Revelation: Jezebel, Satan, and the Subversive Way of Peace

Naming Names, But Not What You Think

"I will cast her on a bed of suffering. I will strike her children dead. I will repay you according to your deeds." It sounds harsh. Unrelenting. Even violent. But what do we do with these kinds of texts in Revelation?

Today we meet Jezebel, a name tied to two practices in the early Christian community: sexual immorality and the eating of food sacrificed to idols. But those practices aren’t unique to her. They show up with the Nicolaitans in Ephesus and those who follow Balaam in Pergamum. This wasn't just a fringe issue—it was everywhere.

And here's where it gets interesting. These names—Balaam, Nicholas, Jezebel—aren't just historical figures. They're stylized symbols. Jezebel, for instance, is drawn from a dramatic story in the Hebrew Bible. She's the queen who worships Baal, uses seduction as power, and ends up devoured by dogs. Gross? Yes. But when you put all this together, you start to see what John is really doing.

He's not calling out individuals. He’s naming ideas. He’s exposing the powers that pull us away from the God revealed in Jesus.

When Names Become Slurs

But there's a danger in this kind of symbolic language. The name Jezebel, over time, has become weaponized—a slur for assertive, sexualized women, particularly Black women. As womanist theologian Wil Gafney notes, Jezebel has come to symbolize all kinds of prejudice.

Now, John's using Jezebel as a villain. That much is true. But today, we're invited to be deeply aware of how these images have been used to wound. We need to read Revelation through a trauma-informed lens that holds space for how this language might land.

As scholar Tina Pippin observes, Revelation often eliminates power while sometimes reaffirming problematic gender ideologies. So we can—we must—notice that. And then get on with the work of dismantling the systems that keep us from equity and grace.

What About the Synagogue of Satan?

Then there’s this term: the synagogue of Satan. It appears here again, linked to the so-called "deep secrets of Satan." And no, this wasn't something early Christians were casually claiming for themselves. This is likely John's sarcasm at play—a rebuke to those claiming secret, elite knowledge that justified harmful behaviors.

Historically, this language is complex. Similar phrases show up in other Jewish texts from the same period, like the Qumran documents. Initially, this was probably part of an internal Jewish debate. But as Christianity became increasingly Gentile, the phrase took on more sinister tones—feeding into centuries of antisemitism.

That history matters. If we're going to engage these texts today, we need to acknowledge how language once rooted in metaphor has become dangerously literal in harmful ways.

A Nonviolent Apocalypse

So how do we read all this? With the help of scholar Adela Yarbro Collins, we can understand Revelation not as a violent book, but as a cathartic one. She argues that Revelation helps us release our frustration with a broken world so we can keep choosing peace.

Imagine the pacifist who, after a tough day, plays a violent video game just to decompress. Has she compromised her values? Not at all. It's the outcome that matters. If the story brings us back to grace, to justice, to the way of Jesus, then it's done its work.

In Revelation, enemies are depersonalized. Balaam, Nicholas, Jezebel—they aren't people, they’re patterns. Dehumanizing ideologies. And when we name them that way, we can engage the real humans in our lives with more compassion.

A Door That No One Can Shut

And maybe there's even more hope tucked in here. In chapter 3, speaking to the church in Philadelphia, John writes: "I have placed before you an open door that no one can shut." Even those caught up in toxic systems—even those once called enemies—will one day fall down and see what God has loved.

That phrase—"I will make them come"—uses a Greek word that can mean to give as a gift. Could it be that this reconciliation, this recognition of love, is not humiliation but grace? Maybe the door is open to everyone.

The Lies That Must Die

And finally, back to Jezebel. In the text, her punishment seems less than that of her children. Why? If these characters are metaphors, maybe it's because what really needs to die are the lies birthed from toxic ideologies.

Jezebel deceives. Those who follow her suffer. But the offspring—the lies we tell ourselves, the narratives that divide and dehumanize—those will be ended. Not people, but falsehoods. Because as George Caird wrote, the Lake of Fire is not for humans, but for the demonic enemies of God.

And the only weapon Jesus ever uses in Revelation? The sword from his mouth. That's truth. That's the Word that cuts through the lies and frees us to love again.

Revelation as an Invitation

So yes, the language is intense. But it’s not meant to endorse violence. It’s meant to uncover the truth. To wake us up. To confront us with the ways we participate in harm. And then, to guide us back to Jesus.

Because Jezebel, Nicholas, Balaam—even the synagogue of Satan—these are not others to be judged. They're distortions in us, ideologies around us, temptations we all wrestle with.

And the call of Revelation? It's to see those things clearly, and then choose again the way of peace.