When studying Revelation 16-17 a few weeks ago with my women’s Bible study, I noticed a typo on my study guide. I was dismayed to see that I had asked twice for my study members to analyze the differences between Babylon the prostitute (symbolic of worldliness) and the New Jerusalem and Bride of Christ. Fortunately, this is a good question and answering it twice yielded double the insight.
Right away, we noticed that Babylon sits upon many waters whereas the New Jerusalem comes from the mountains; Babylon is tossed about by the chaotic waves from whence she came while Jerusalem descends from a place of safety and sacredness.
Then we noticed that Babylon is decked out in gaudy reds and purples—the colors of earthly ostentation—while the New Jerusalem is simply and tastefully adorned with clear jewels and the white robes of Christ’s righteousness.
Also, Babylon lifts a golden cup full of abominations and sexual impurities in a hideous drunken toast. This perverted communion is the total antithesis to the merry and wholesome wine that flows at the wedding supper of the Lamb.
These observations led to a fruitful conversation about how the world looks appealing, prosperous, regal, jubilant, and any number of desirable descriptors. We talked about the pressures the world puts on women in particular to be like Babylon—hyper-sexualized, loud, showy, extravagant, bold, powerful, and cartoonishly feminine in appearance but stereotypically masculine in demeanor.
We talked, too, about how the world tempts even the most discerning women. We can be thoroughly repulsed by Babylon, but still, something not-quite-dead in us still wants to be like her. We still want her hoards of admirers and the power she holds over those admirers…
But Babylon is a prostitute. She misuses good gifts such as beauty for destructive purposes. This led to a fruitful conversation about how we may be misusing gifts from God by failing to steward our time, money, health, relationships, intelligence, or beauty with wisdom and humility. But then one of my friends pointed out something even more profound, something I had never thought of before in such stark terms:
Babylon is not only guilty of misusing what is given to her; she herself is being used.
Babylon rides onto the scene on “a scarlet beast,” an antichrist figure. Perhaps the antichrist. At first it seems that Babylon is in control since she is the one riding the beast and manipulating the rulers of the earth. But by the end of Revelation 17, the beast hates the prostitute. He turns her lovers against her and, together, they leave her naked and desolate. They devour her and burn her.
All along, Babylon is being used and abused. She is dressed up and flattered and paraded around until, suddenly, she was no longer useful to her supporters and they pulled the rug completely out from beneath her—and the robes completely off of her.
We often consider how we are misusing what God has given us, but how often to we think of sin as using us?
Because that’s what sin is. It’s an abuser.
Sin is misusing what God has entrusted to us—be it our money, time, talents, words, appearance, thoughts, or sexuality. And at the same time, as we misuse what God has given us, sin uses us. It dries us up. It devours us from the inside out. It diminishes the gifts we have been given. It makes us less than we ought to be. It degrades us.
Sin can pretend to give but, in the end, it only takes. It is only a matter of time before it will be exposed—and so will we unless we recognize that we are naked. Unless we recognize our need for a sacrificial husband rather than an abusive lover. Then, we are covered in white robes. We are adorned with pure jewels. We are beloved and secure; our Bridegroom will not allow sin to keep abusing his Bride. He will sanctify us, bleaching the remaining stains of Babylon’s spilled wine with his own blood.
Ryanne Molinari 