Source: Richard Bauckham, The Climax of Prophecy: Studies on the Book of Revelation (London; New York: T&T Clark: A Continuum Imprint, 1993), 338–383.
10. Revelation's Attack on Rome.mp4
he Economic Critique of Rome in Revelation 18.wav
This podcast delves into the economic critique of Rome found within the Book of Revelation, particularly highlighting chapter 18. It argues that, unlike other ancient critiques, Revelation offers a unique condemnation of Rome's economic exploitation of its empire. The podcast analyzes the structure of Revelation's portrayal of "Babylon" (Rome), focusing on the list of imported luxury goods as a central piece of evidence for Rome's wealth being derived from and enjoyed at the expense of its subjects. The source also examines the figures who mourn Babylon's fall – the kings, merchants, and mariners – identifying them as those who profited from Rome's economic system, a perspective contrasted with the heavenly rejoicing over God's justice.
When most people think of the Book of Revelation, they picture prophecies of the end times, terrifying beasts, and cosmic battles. But beneath the visionary symbolism lies a powerful and surprisingly concrete work of political resistance. According to historical analysis, Revelation is one of the "fiercest attacks on Rome and one of the most effective pieces of political resistance literature from the period." A core element of this attack, often overlooked, is its sophisticated and scathing economic critique.
This article moves beyond the common understanding of Revelation to explore the most impactful and counter-intuitive economic arguments hidden within the text, revealing a takedown of imperial power that is grounded not just in theology, but in the brutal realities of commerce, luxury, and exploitation in the Roman Empire.
One of Revelation's primary images for the Roman Empire is not a conquering emperor or a fearsome beast, but a "great harlot" named Babylon. For the book’s original audience, this would have been a shocking subversion of Rome’s own state religion, which personified the city as the revered goddess Roma. Revelation rips off this divine mask, revealing the empire in its true character: a prostitute.
This metaphor is fundamentally an economic one. The text portrays Rome as a fabulously wealthy courtesan whose luxurious lifestyle is funded by her "lovers"—the client kings and collaborating nations of the empire. What does she sell? The supposed benefits of the Pax Romana: the peace, stability, and prosperity that Roman propaganda celebrated. But the author of Revelation, John, sees this for what it is. To delude the masses, the harlot employs seduction and deception, using "sorceries" and making the peoples of the empire drunk on the "wine of her fornication." These are not gifts, but transactions that benefit Rome above all.
In other words, Rome is a harlot because her associations with the peoples of her empire are for her own economic benefit. To those who associate with her she offers the supposed benefits of the Pax Romana, much lauded in the Roman propaganda of this period. ... But in John’s view these benefits are not what they seem: they are the favours of a prostitute, purchased at a high price. The Pax Romana is really a system of economic exploitation of the empire.
To make his critique of Roman economic excess tangible, John includes a detailed list of 28 cargoes imported into the city (Revelation 18:12-13). This is no mere flourish of literary detail. Scholars note that it is "much the longest extant list of Roman imports to be found in the literature of the early empire," a meticulously curated indictment of imperial greed.
The items listed are a catalogue of obscene extravagance. The critique isn’t just about luxury in general; it’s about a level of consumption that even Roman moralists of the day condemned. The list includes impossibly expensive tables made from citrus wood; a single one could cost more than a large estate, and the philosopher Seneca, despite his Stoic principles, was said to own five hundred of them. It includes pearls, which the Emperor Nero would reportedly dissolve in vinegar at banquets for the thrill of consuming their immense value in a single gulp.