I'm a woman who thinks about the Roman Empire all the time
Introducing a series on faith and politics and the book of Revelation
A year or so ago, there was an internet trend of women asking the men in their lives how often they think about the Roman Empire—and being shocked by their answers. Apparently, lots and lots of men think about the Roman Empire super often. As in, daily, or at least multiple times a week.
Somehow I only came across this trend fairly recently. When I did, I thought: I think about the Roman Empire all the time. (And, in the famous-if-dubiously-historical words of Sojourner Truth, Ain’t I a woman?)
And then I thought: Why men? Why ask men this question, and not women or nonbinary folks?
Reading this Washington Post article about the trend helped me understand.
Apparently, when random men on the internet say they think about the Roman Empire often, they’re actually thinking about very different things from the things I think about.
They’re thinking about gladiators. They’re thinking about technology. They’re thinking about war. They’re thinking about aqueducts and weapons and expanding empires and systems of control.
In other words, by our own patriarchal US culture’s ideas of masculinity, they’re thinking manly thoughts. They’re thinking generally positive thoughts about Rome, admiring its imperial prowess from a variety of angles.
Me? I’m often thinking about the Roman Empire because it’s the context of the New Testament.
It was the world Jesus lived in. It’s the backdrop of all his stories, the undercurrent behind his teachings.
It’s the concrete incarnation of the powers-that-be, the ones Jesus taught his little ragtag community of disciples to resist. It’s the status quo against which he dreamed different kinds of dreams.
It’s the powerful persecuting force that lurks behind the apostles’ journeys in the book of Acts, and that deeply shaped the content of so many of the New Testament letters with their talk of affliction and perseverance. The Roman Empire was not friendly to people of faith.
It’s also Babylon, the beasts of the book of Revelation. The book of Revelation calls people to live by countercultural, risky faith and love in a world that would eat them up for it.
These are the things I think about, when I think about the Roman Empire.
In the context of a dominating force that wants people to become like itself—violent, aggressive, all-consuming, ruthless—how do we live a different kind of life? How do we become different kinds of communities—communities marked by care, compassion, gentleness, kindness, honesty?
Part of me sees the Bible very differently from the ways I used to in my evangelical days. And part of me is still a Bible nerd at heart.
So I want you to know: I am a woman who thinks about the Roman Empire all the time. I think about its imperial ways and how to resist them. I think about who people of faith are invited to be in our own times, in this empire we live under today.
I think about how all of this plays out as Christians and post-Christians—and all people who have had some sort of formative relationship to Christianity—think about the rapidly approaching US elections.
Around three to four years ago, I wrote a series of blog posts reflecting on things I noticed while translating the first three chapters of the book of Revelation. (I warned you, I’m a nerd. I’ve spent a lot of time translating New Testament Greek…by choice.)
In these chapters, the writer John has a vision of Jesus speaking to several different churches. Jesus has different things to say to each community.
I’m curious how parts of John’s vision might come to life for us in this current election season. I’m also curious how I’ll look at these texts similarly to or differently from the ways I looked at them a few years back.
I know I’ve changed and will continue to change. (And I see this as a good thing.) I know our world has changed and continues to change.
If anything, these last few years have been a time of revelation—of revealing—and I think the coming weeks and months (at least) will continue to be.
So, over the next several weeks, I plan to revisit those Revelation blog posts and revise or rewrite them with our current election season in mind. I think there’s life in Jesus’ words to different kinds of churches back then, and I hope there’s life in pondering what these words might mean for different kinds of people and communities today.
I hope you might consider sharing some of these upcoming posts with a friend as food for discussion, as we all think through questions of faith and politics together.
As we aim to grow into kinship together—into ways of being that resist empires’ ways of aggression and competition and hoarding and scarcity—I think we’ll find life in the empire-resisting words of Revelation. And I suppose as a bonus, regardless of gender, we might find ourselves thinking about Rome surprisingly often along the way.
I LOLed at title. And such an interesting concept of comparing Rome & the early church to America and the modern church! Especially since political party seems to be as important an affiliation for many now as religion once was.
Great title!