Culture Wars

Kirsch notes that throughout the history of apocalyptic belief, the Book of Revelation has often been at the forefront of what he calls ‘culture wars.’ John, when he wrote the Book of Revelation, was himself embroiled in a cultural war against the Roman Empire as well as other Christians, who he believed were not properly devout. Later, the Book of Revelation was used by both reformers within the church to criticize the church bureaucracy and by the papacy to denounce and persecute its critics. Revelation was also used to justify actual wars, ranging from the Crusades to the Civil War to World War I and II. The culture war that energizes current apocalyptic belief is fought ‘between fundamentalism and the modern world’ (219), where Christian fundamentalists imagine themselves to be at odds with an increasingly godless world. For true believers today, everything from feminism to the Masons to the United Nations is seen as a tool of the Antichrist and a portent of the end of the world (220).

I believe that the Book of Revelation, and apocalyptic belief as a whole, is particularly appealing to those that believe that they are involved in a cultural war. For the talk show evangelists that rail against everything from gay marriage and abortion to Barack Obama and big government, the black and white morality of Revelation is a convenient way to demonize their enemies. For conservative Americans who believe that their way of life is increasingly threatened, the language of persecution that John employs makes the Book of Revelation an effective propaganda tool. And for all those that perceive themselves as the victims of a changing political and social order, the lurid revenge fantasies of Revelation assure them that they won’t have to suffer the affronts of the modern world for long.

The fear and anxiety about the changing world is not limited to religious zealots. Kirsch describes the proliferation of ‘godless apocalypses’ in recent years, where the end of the world is a product of human folly; those that believe in these apocalyptic scenarios must also seem themselves fighting a culture war against forces such as globalization and the spread of new technologies. While technology is regarded with great suspicion by the religiously devout (in one reinterpretation of the Book of Revelation, barcodes are depicted as the ‘mark of the beast’), it is also often depicted as the enemy in ‘godless apocalypses.’ In these scenarios, human beings struggle against the threat of nuclear weapons, artificial intelligence, robots, and supercomputers. One of the key aspects of globalization is the transnational movement of information, goods, and people, but this same movement can also lead to a global pandemic, another deep-rooted fear in current apocalypse scenarios. Finally, a recent article in the New York Times Book Review entitled ‘The State of Zombie Literature – An Autopsy‘ explored the recent popularity of zombie fiction, proposing that is driven by a ‘general anxiety, particularly in the West, about the planet’s dwindling resources,’ leading to the disturbing conclusion that “these nonhuman creatures…might be serving as metaphors for actual people – undocumented immigrants…or the entire populations of developing nations.”

One of the questions that Kirsch raises in his book is why, after 2000 years of the world resolutely not ending, that apocalyptic belief continues to be so popular. I think it taps into fears that afflict both the religious and the general populace, and the imagery contained within the Book of Revelation, of war and chaos and a final battle followed by triumphant peace, has gained broad cultural approval.

Apocalyptic Reign in a Cultural Era

In the second portion of Jonathan Kirsch’s A History of the End of the World, we learn a great deal about the cultural uproar of the Book of Revelation and all the events that have ultimately contributed to our understanding of apocalyptic phenomena. It is clear that many more prophets, besides John himself, have taken the Revelation into their own hands and retold the end of the world as they envisioned it. It is precisely the people and circumstances under which the Book of Revelation was read and interpreted that have so greatly shaped the timeline of our world as we know it today.

The change in Christian apocalyptic perception over time is pertinent to our understanding of the ideology that surrounds John’s text. Originally, the world was heavily centered around the Christian fundamentalists who believed that only the saints and martyrs would prevail through the Rapture and make it to the New Heaven and Earth. At this time, there was a divisive line between what qualified one’s lifestyle to be worthy of salvation and the habits that did not. Its interesting to note how clearly defined the extremities of good and evil, godly and satanic, and right and wrong were upon the early stages of this end of world speculation. Naturally, however, these realms lost sight their strict margins, as did the belief in the Book of Revelation. Some interpretations and understandings certainly spilled over and blended with each other over the course of apocalyptic history. This corresponds with the growing tendency and encouragement to read the Revelation symbolically rather than carnally.

We see early on how interpretations of the text were contorted according to societal circumstances. For example, the mosaic in the western European church initially consisted of Jesus and his twelve disciples. Once Rome imperialized under Constantine, the mosaic was re-adorned to include a throne and golden halo, as well as the city of Jerusalem, all which resonate with images depicted in the Book of Revelation. This coincides with the “apocalyptic invasion” as coined by Kirsch. And as Kirsch continues to emphasize, the popularity of the Book of Revelation and manifestations of its iconography all came about at the same time as Christianity became a formal state religion of the Roman Empire. Once again, we must not forget to question the authenticity of a text that thrives in an environment of pervasive religious and social changes.

Kirsch also comments on the cultural war that has spawned from the Book of Revelation. While the religious disparities among apocalyptic believers have greatly lessened, the social debate over this issue is still in full effect. In the beginning, the end of world discourse mainly differed among premellenialist and postmellenialist, who were both essentially Christian fundamentalists whose opinions diverged at the “when” factor of the apocalypse. The contemporary debate is far more extensive, consisting of many branches of skepticism of how the world will end or if in fact, there will be an ending at all. It is understandable that so much more disbelief is present in our society today, considering all the history of disappointments and false predictions of doomsday. After all, with all our wars and struggles, the world has indeed proven to withstand more destruction than the human mind would have thought possible. Moreover, there is far more complexity and technology present in our current world, which has triggered further doubt. Can God really be responsible for the end of a world that can revitalize life and land after the atomic bomb hits it? Though all science may point against it, the strong faith in God has been enough to sway people to believe so.

I agree that the Book of Revelation has become heavily utilized as “language arsenal” for opposing sides of the apocalyptic spectrum. Some may see this as God’s way of preserving the text in our society. On the other hand, the text may have been so ingrained into our cultural backbone, that we cannot simply filter its past admonitions out of our future plans. But if we are subconsciously holding on to these theories to sustain the Book of Revelation, then we are also summoning doomsday to us. Why else would we fight so hard to keep alive a tradition that may be the end-all of all other traditions and spur the death of life itself? Perhaps we are exactly the structural race that Kirsch depicts in the finality of his text, “the men and women who continue to wait, and have always waited, for the world to end on time”. (256)

A Lasting Market for Apocalyptic Anxiety

While reading Kirsch I often noted how cultural anxiety plays a key role in apocalyptic thinking. Apocalyptic anxiety has opened up a huge market in pop-culture. It’s important to note that this market didn’t just succeed without the presence of some need; people buy into it. I would argue that apocalyptic consumers aren’t just successfully targeted bystanders, but rather they have an anxiety-driven fascination with the legacy that originated with The Book of Revelation. Kermode addresses further how this market of anxiety succeeds because of the very human need for a comprehensible end to the human “story.” Continue reading

Collective Response from Lee

Hi everyone,

We’re off to a great start with these first posts. This time I am going to write a collective response rather than commenting on individual ones, and I hope each of you will continue to read each others’ posts and respond to them here and of course in class. So far, Kaitlyn has led the way in comments. She wrote her post first, actually, and sent me a copy of it because the server was down and she couldn’t post it until later.

Although there are many intriguing strands of thought that we will pursue further in discussion, for now, three main inter-related themes emerge as key to this set of posts: the question of authenticity of the Book of Revelation, Revelation as a fear-mongering text, and representation of the body within apocalyptic belief. Whitney has posed the first astutely thus: “how is the value and credibility of a religious text maintained?” As we will see with the remaining chapters from Kirsch, this entails numerous clashes of power, including bloodbaths that seem to emulate Revelation’s descriptions. It also, however, entails less visible forms of power relations that entice followers—at times, Revelation’s revenge fantasy has functioned as a supreme inducement to join a specific group of true believers, both establishment and anti-establishment. Aparna takes this question up and provides a useful way to divide the question into three levels of inquiry: 1. how an author establishes him or herself as a true visionary/prophet; 2. how institutions establish authenticity; and 3. how multiple uses and effects of 1 and 2 have occurred historically.

Concern about these three lines of thought is paramount to the posts by Colby, Emily, Ariela, and Ilirjan, although from differing angles of vision. At times, these may blur together more than they should. Here I would like everyone to think about differences and similarities between propaganda and proselytizing. Also, is it necessary, as I think Ilirjan argues, to assume a conspiracy at work in a text like Revelation? (And don’t forget, no “s” on the end—it’s a single revelation.) Colby’s point about a diminished sense of personal agency and a counter to social change is both cause and effect.

In regard to issues surrounding bodily representation, Joe’s discussion of the purified body as the one best suited for heavenly reward continues to be a key issue within apocalyptic thought to this day. How one defines purity has altered over time, which allows us to grasp some of the changes of culture historically as well. In John’s day, there was certainly a gender dualism at work, with male bodies seen as superior to female bodies. The issue of sexuality for the sake of reproduction was a vital element. Reproduction isn’t necessary if the endtime is truly “coming soon” as Jesus reveals to John. On the other hand, if one believes that it may be delayed for a while and that the earth should be populated by more godly people, then it makes more sense to reproduce a lot, which we see as a principle in many denominations. A chaste version of heteronormative sexuality is one of the main themes in much contemporary religious discourse. Again, the apocalyptic version is always the most visible, but other forms also incorporate such views. Kaitlyn’s focus on zombie bodies is also a contemporary variation on the apocalyptic body—but it is more of an inverse apocalypse, since the undead are like the chosen elect, only decayed and impure rather than transcendent and pure. A final note—Springsteen uses lots of images and phrases from the Book of Revelation, so Stephen King’s borrowing from the Boss is also from the Big Boss.

Here to Stay for the Apocalypse

Revelation, as an apocalypse, seems to be inherently invested in the future, and of course a certain rendering of the future founded not in the historical present of its writing, but a future that will be radically disconnected from the present day, and in effect, will be totally disruptive and transformative.  As Kirsch writes, salvation in Revelation must await the reordering that the apocalypse will bring, which stands in contrast to the view of salvation in the gospels, as something actively achievable in the world in which we live today (58).  Revelation finds little hope for ourselves on this earth; salvation, and the apocalyptic moment, seems in want of a site, a place, if this earth is insufficient for such purposes. Continue reading

Fire and Brimstone with a Side of Salvation

“For the great day of his wrath is come and who shall be able to stand?”

I think of all the quotable material from the Book of Revelation, this line struck me the most. At first, it was because it reminded me of one of my favorite post-apocalyptic books, The Stand by Stephen King. (I did check to see if this quotation had inspired the title. However, King’s epigrams suggest that honor goes to a Bruce Springsteen song and not the Book of Revelation – though it is certainly relevant.) On further examination however, what struck me about this line from Revelation is that “his” does not refer to Satan, but to God. Continue reading

The Question of Legitimacy

Kirsch credits the Book of Revelation as one of the primary texts that began the apocalyptic tradition in Western society. Even today, Christian fundamentalists maintain that Revelation is a truthful account of the events that will come to pass at the end of the world. For a text that has such a far-reaching effect on Western culture, I found it interesting that there is a surprising amount of doubt surrounding its legitimacy. As Kirsch mentions, when Revelation was first transcribed, it was “regarded with alarm and suspicion by some of the more cautious church authorities,” who did not want to acknowledge the work of an ordinary man that claimed to hear the voice of God. Furthermore, while it is traditionally maintained that John the Apostle wrote the Book of Revelation, some scholars point to evidence within the text and in historical records that proves the author was an entirely different John. I think the difference lies in the meaning of the word “legitimate” for a fundamentalist as opposed to someone like Kirsch.

Within the Book of Revelation, John takes great care to establish himself unquestionably as the true prophet of God. In Rev. 13, he introduces the character of the beast, a false prophet that is conjured up by Stan in order to deceive mankind. Men, enthralled by the miracles that the beast performs, create and worship an image of the beast, highlighting the power of images to deceive and lead men astray from the word of God. In contrast to the false prophet, there is John, who has heard the true “voice” of God. As much as his vision consists of him seeing the end of the world, much of the narrative also focuses on what he has “heard” from the voice of God. Therefore, throughout the text, he admonishes true believes to listen through the refrain of “he that hath an ear, let him hear” (and if in not those exact words, then with a similar sentiment). In conclusion, this is a rather convoluted way of saying that John establishes the primacy of speech as opposed to images as the medium of heavenly communication. This is particularly interesting when considering that originally Revelation was most probably a sermon and those that believed it were known as “hearers.”

If the sermon (or the text) and its communication are most important, then the identity of the individual author seems unnecessary to its interpretation. If the text is seen as the product of a higher being, where the author is merely the vehicle for divine inspiration, then it doesn’t really matter which John wrote the Book of Revelation, as long as the book was written. The importance of the identity of the author to the interpretation of the text seems to me to be the product of a more modern type of literary criticism. For Kirsch, who to some extent treats the Book of Revelation as a historical and literary text, it is important to evaluate the text in light of the author’s identity, as well as the biographical details that might have influenced its creation as well as its propagation. For a true believe, on the other hand, I think it would be heretical to even assume that the text holds the biases of a human author, as opposed to the prophetic warnings of a heavenly voice. As long as people believe that the author of the text is a true prophet, then there is no need to question its legitimacy.

As a quick aside, I don’t have a background in the Judeo-Christian tradition so I have to wonder what makes the Book of Revelation different from other apocryphal writing with questionable authenticity, which were excluded from the New Testament.

Apocalyptic Propaganda

Although there are many Christian fundamentalists who consider the Book of Revelations to be an essential part of the bible, many scholars have rightfully denounced the last book as a peculiar and contrived tale of propaganda.

The Book of Revelations may have some religious inspiration, however it is mostly an “intelligent” story that is based on themes John’s potential converts may connect with. In the story, John encounters a book with 7 seals, a sea beast with 7 heads, 7 angels with 7 plagues, and so on. Kirsch argues that the number 7 originates from the Book of Genesis among other parts of the bible in which God creates the world in 7 days. John also borrows language from the Hebrew bible in another attempt to have Jewish readers relate to his messages. Moreover, the 7-headed beasts and the story of the pregnant woman clothed in the sun are themes that Pagans are familiar with. Along with his obsession with numerology and symbolism, these all make John’s story seem to be an artificial attempt to create an “intelligent” story that Jews and Pagans of the time could relate to.

The blatant juxtaposition of grotesque apocalyptic images with a heavenly new earth is clearly a contrived effort to scare his Jewish and Pagan readers into converting to Christianity. Most of the Book of Revelation includes chapters about 7-headed creatures, red dragons and other fantastical themes which remind readers of gory science fiction novels. However, there is a stark contrast in the final chapters in which John describes the new heavenly city that will be created: “the city had no need of the sun … for the glory of God did lighten it”, “there shall be no more curse”, etc. After the previous bloody chapters, John finally creates a peaceful atmosphere for his readers. Before he ends on a positive note, though, John reminds the reader that whoremongers, murders and those that do not follow the commandments would not be entering this city – yet another contrived effort to force this idea of being saved onto the non-Christian readers.

The author of the Book of Revelations and many Christians may have genuinely believed in his apocalyptic messages, however it is evident that John had a not-so-hidden agenda of scaring non-Christians into being saved by converting to Christianity.

Apocalyptic Skepticism

In A History of the End of the World, Jonathan Kirsch aptly included a parallel to the Lewis Carroll novel Alice in Wonderland when he wrote, “Once we follow the author of Revelation down the rabbit hole of the apocalyptic tradition, we find ourselves in a place where the sights and sounds are curiouser and curiouser” (40). As I read through the Book of Revelation for the first time, I couldn’t help but think of Alice in Wonderland as well. Alice woke up at the end of that novel only to realize Wonderland was a dream. My first impression of the Book of Revelation was that John, author of the Revelation, was much like Alice, except that when he woke up, he considered his nightmare an apocalyptic prophecy. Continue reading