A Sermon for Bloomsbury Central Baptist Church
1 December 2024
Advent 1
Daniel 6.6-27
Revelation 13.1-10
Introduction: A World Demanding Our Allegiance
As we gather at the beginning of this Advent season,
we do so at
a time when the world feels more polarized than ever.
Across nations, we are witnessing the rise of leaders and
ideologies
that thrive
on division, fear, and the consolidation of power.
From Trump’s re-election in the United States
to the
growth of far-right movements in Europe and beyond,
a dangerous narrative is emerging:
one that
demands unquestioning loyalty, silences dissent,
and
marginalizes those who do not fit the mould
of what is
deemed acceptable or worthy.
These forces often cloak themselves in promises of security,
prosperity,
or national greatness,
but their underlying goal is to claim for themselves
allegiance that
rightly belongs to God alone.
They seek to define our values, control our priorities,
and shape
our sense of identity and community.
Like King Darius in the story of Daniel,
or the
beast described in Revelation 13,
these powers demand worship
—whether
that worship takes the form of blind nationalism,
unregulated consumerism,
or the
idolisation of strength and dominance.
This is not a new story.
Throughout history, empires and leaders have sought to
dominate
through
fear and coercion,
from the time of the Babylonian exile,
to the
Roman Empire of the first century,
to modern
authoritarian regimes.
Such empires have always tried to persuade people
to trade
their faith and integrity
for
promises of comfort or survival.
And yet, in every age, faithful people have stood up to say,
“No.”
Daniel, thrown into the lion’s den
for
refusing to bow to earthly power,
is one such
example.
The faithful described in Revelation 13,
who refused
to worship the beast
despite the
risk of persecution, are another.
These stories remind us that the call to resist oppressive
forces
is not only
ancient—but it is also deeply relevant today.
As Christians in the 21st century, we face this
same challenge.
The pressures we encounter to conform
may not
always look like a decree from a king, or the mark of a beast,
but they
are no less real.
We are constantly confronted by ideologies that tempt us to
compromise:
the
relentless push for economic gain at the expense of others,
the demonisation
of the vulnerable,
the
glorification of violence and dominance.
In this context, the season of Advent calls us
to examine
where our true allegiance lies.
It reminds us that we belong to a kingdom
that stands
apart from the powers of this world
—a kingdom
of peace, justice, and love.
So the question before us today is this:
will we
remain faithful to that kingdom,
resisting
the forces that seek to draw us away?
Or will we give in to the temptation to conform,
to follow
the crowd, to prioritize comfort over conviction?
This is not an easy question, because resistance is costly.
It requires
courage, sacrifice, and a willingness to stand firm
even when
the world seems to be moving in the opposite direction.
But as we see in both Daniel’s story and the vision of
Revelation,
resistance
is also a profound act of hope.
It proclaims that no matter how powerful earthly empires may
seem,
their rule
is temporary.
Whereas God’s kingdom is eternal.
So this Advent, as we prepare to celebrate the coming of
Christ,
we are
reminded that his birth was itself an act of resistance
—a
challenge to the powers and principalities of the world.
And Christ’s coming invites us to participate in that
resistance,
living as
people of hope and faith
in a world
demanding our allegiance to anything but God.
The Beast and the Lion’s Den: Parallels of Oppression
So let’s turn now to our texts for this morning,
where first
we meet this powerful image
of a beast
rising from the sea in Revelation 13:1–10
It is as terrifying as it is symbolic.
This beast, with its ten horns and seven heads,
represents
the overwhelming power of empire,
wielding
authority over the nations and demanding worship.
Its might is such that the people cry out,
“Who is
like the beast, and who can fight against it?”
This question reflects the deeply ingrained fear
that haunts
all those who might consider taking a stand of resistance
against
powerful forces or ideologies:
the fear that resistance is futile,
that no
power can stand against such overwhelming force.
In Daniel’s story, we encounter a different but related kind
of empire.
King Darius, though portrayed as a somewhat sympathetic
ruler,
becomes
complicit in an oppressive system
when he allows his advisors to manipulate him
into
passing a decree that turns him into a god-like figure.
This decree—demanding exclusive worship of the king under
threat of death—
reveals the
essence of empire, in every age including our own:
the desire to control not just people’s actions,
but their
very allegiance and faith.
At first glance, these two narratives may seem far removed
from our own time.
After all,
no one today is demanding we worship a literal king or beast.
And yet, as we dig deeper, we see all too easily
that the
dynamics of oppression, coercion, and domination
are alive
and well in our world.
Consider the powers and systems that demand our allegiance
today.
They may not always carry the outward symbols of empire,
but their
mechanisms are just as insidious.
Nationalistic leaders demand loyalty to their vision of
“greatness,”
often at
the expense of truth, justice, and compassion.
Consumerist ideologies insist that our worth is tied to what
we buy or achieve,
rather than
who we are as beloved children of God.
Militaristic narratives glorify strength and violence as the
path to security,
overshadowing
the Gospel’s call to peace.
The parallels to Daniel and Revelation are striking.
Last week Liz and I went to Lord Mayor’s show,
something I
always enjoy, but always with a sense of unease.
The parade showcases the latest in military hardware
with soldiers
in uniform high-fiving children,
along with the great wealth of London’s ancient livery companies,
all shot
through with stirring nationalistic marching music
and more
union jacks than you can shake a flag at!
And like Darius’s decree, today’s ideologies often seek to
suppress dissent,
whether
through legal systems, economic pressures, or cultural norms.
They punish those who refuse to conform,
whether
that punishment comes as public ridicule, exclusion,
or more
severe consequences.
Similarly, the beast of Revelation
—with its
blasphemous claims and demand for worship—
reflects the way modern systems of power
elevate
themselves to god-like status.
Governments, corporations, and cultural narratives
often
position themselves as ultimate authorities,
promising salvation through their policies, products, or
philosophies.
They ask us to place our trust in them,
to bow
before their vision of the world,
even when
that vision contradicts the values of God’s kingdom.
Yet in both Daniel and Revelation,
we find a
powerful message of hope and resistance.
When Daniel is faced with the choice of obeying Darius’s
decree
or
remaining faithful to God, he chooses faithfulness,
even though
it means facing the lion’s den.
His quiet act of defiance—continuing to pray as he always
had—
becomes a
profound statement of resistance
against a
system that sought to control his allegiance.
In Revelation, the faithful are described as those who
refuse to worship the beast,
even though
this choice leads to suffering.
They endure, not because they are unaware of the cost,
but because
they know that ultimate power belongs to God.
The beast’s authority, while immense, is temporary,
and its
defeat is certain.
These stories remind us that the powers of oppression,
though
overwhelming at times, are not invincible.
They may roar like lions or trample like beasts,
but their
reign is limited.
God’s kingdom, by contrast, is eternal and unshakeable.
For us today, the question is clear:
where will
we place our allegiance?
Will we bow to the pressures of the world,
allowing
fear, greed, or apathy to dictate our actions?
Or will we stand firm, like Daniel and the faithful in
Revelation,
proclaiming
through our lives that we belong to a different kingdom
—a kingdom
of justice, mercy, and peace?
This is no easy task.
The beast of Revelation and the empire of Darius
are not
defeated by sheer human effort.
Their defeat comes through the enduring faithfulness
of those
who trust in God.
And so our resistance must be rooted in faith
—a faith
that trusts in God’s power to overcome,
even when
the odds seem insurmountable.
As we reflect on the parallels between the beast and the
lion’s den,
and how
they speak to our experience of power in our world,
let us remember that resistance is not primarily about grand
gestures
or dramatic
confrontations.
Sometimes, it is as simple as continuing to pray, to speak
truth, to act justly,
when the
world demands otherwise of us.
It is in these acts of quiet faithfulness that we proclaim
the ultimate victory
of God’s
kingdom over every oppressive power.
Faithful Resistance: A Call to Trust in God
So what might it mean for us to resist faithfully?
Daniel’s story and the vision of Revelation 13
paint a
vivid picture of what it looks like to stand firm in allegiance to God
when faced
with immense pressure to conform.
But faithful resistance is not about stubborn defiance for
its own sake.
Rather, it
is a deep commitment to God’s vision for the world
—a vision of justice, compassion,
and peace—
a
commitment that refuses to bow to the demands of oppressive powers.
In Revelation 13, we encounter a stark image of
empire at its most brutal.
The beast
wields authority over nations and peoples,
and
its power seems overwhelming.
It
blasphemes, it intimidates, and it demands worship.
It is, of course, an image for the emperor of Rome,
but it’s
also an image that can be applied
to other
‘emperors’ down the centuries.
I wonder how this Beast might fare in a presidential
election?
What do you
think?
The text acknowledges the reality of suffering for those who
resist:
“If
anyone is to be taken captive, to captivity they go;
if
anyone is to be killed with the sword, with the sword they will be killed”
(Revelation
13:10).
This is no naïve call to resistance. The stakes are high,
and the cost is real.
As Martin
Luther King knew when he called people to nonviolent resistance
in
the American Civil Rights struggle,
people were
going to die.
Yet the passage nonetheless calls for “the endurance and
faith of the saints”.
And the endurance
envisaged here is not passive.
It is an active, courageous decision, to trust in God’s
ultimate sovereignty,
even when
the odds seem insurmountable.
And this is the kind of trust we see in Daniel,
who
continues to pray to God despite knowing the consequences.
His resistance is quiet but unwavering.
He does not
try to fight or flee; he simply remains faithful.
This type of nonviolent faithful resistance challenges the
logic of the world,
which so often
equates power with domination, and survival with submission.
Instead, it embraces the paradox of the Gospel:
that true
strength is found in vulnerability,
and true
victory in surrendering to God’s purposes.
Faithful resistance also requires discernment.
Daniel’s decision to continue praying,
even when
it meant defying the king’s decree,
was not a
reckless act of rebellion.
It was a deliberate choice rooted in his relationship with
God.
Similarly, the saints in Revelation 13
do not
resist the beast out of pride or personal gain,
but out of a profound conviction
that their
ultimate allegiance belongs to the Lamb who was slain.
For us today, this kind of resistance invites us to examine
our own lives
and ask:
where is our allegiance?
Are we placing our trust in the powers of this world
—be it
political and military systems, economic stability, or cultural acceptance?
Or are we grounding our trust in God,
who calls
us to live as citizens
of a
kingdom that transcends all earthly powers?
Faithful resistance also means recognizing
the subtle
ways in which oppressive systems infiltrate our lives.
It’s not always as obvious as a decree demanding worship of
a king or a beast.
It can be
the small compromises we make to fit in,
the ways we
stay silent in the face of injustice,
or the
times we choose comfort over conviction.
Resistance begins when we notice these patterns and choose a
different path.
This resistance is not without cost.
Like
Daniel, we may face ridicule, exclusion, disadvantage or even danger
for
standing firm in our faith.
But the promise of both Daniel and Revelation
is that God
is with us in the struggle.
Daniel was not alone in the lion’s den;
God sent an
angel to shut the lions’ mouths.
The saints in Revelation endure not because of their own
strength,
but because
they know their names are written in the book of life.
Faithful resistance, you see, is also an act of hope.
It
proclaims that the powers of this world, no matter how mighty they seem,
are
ultimately subject to God’s authority.
And when we resist, we declare that God’s kingdom
—a kingdom
of justice, peace, and love—
is more real and more lasting than any empire or ideology.
In practical terms,
faithful
resistance might look like standing up for those
who are
marginalized or oppressed.
It might mean challenging systems
that
exploit the vulnerable or perpetuate inequality.
It might involve acts of solidarity, advocacy,
or even
simple kindness that defy the logic of self-interest.
But faithful resistance is not just about what we do;
it is also
about who we are.
It calls us to be people of integrity,
whose lives
bear witness to the values of God’s kingdom.
It is about aligning our actions, words, and decisions
with the
justice and mercy of God,
even when
it is costly or countercultural.
Ultimately, faithful resistance is a call to trust in God.
It is a call to believe that God’s kingdom is breaking into
the world,
even when
the evidence seems to suggest otherwise.
It is a call to live in the hope that no beast, no empire,
no power of
this world can separate us from the love of God.
As we see in both Daniel’s story and the vision of
Revelation,
faithful
resistance is never futile.
It is a proclamation of hope, a testimony to the enduring
power of God,
and a hopeful
participation in the coming of God’s kingdom.
The Hope of Advent: A Kingdom That Will Never End
And so we find ourselves here in Advent, the season of hope
—a time
when we look beyond the brokenness of our world
and lift
our eyes to the promises of God.
It is a season that calls us to remember that,
though the
powers of this world may seem strong,
their reign
is temporary.
Daniel’s story and the vision in Revelation 13 remind
us that oppressive powers
—whether
symbolized by a lion’s den or a monstrous beast—
do not have
the final word.
The hope of Advent is that God’s kingdom,
unlike the
empires of this world, will never end.
The Advent season is rooted in waiting,
but it is
not a passive or resigned waiting.
It is an active anticipation of what is to come.
As followers of Christ who comes as light to a dark world,
we do not
wait as those who despair
but as
those who live in hope,
knowing that the coming of Christ signals the breaking in of
God’s kingdom
where
justice, peace, and love reign forever.
Signs of Hope in a Broken World
The hope of Advent is not naïve
or detached
from the pain of the world.
It is a hope that comes
precisely
because we know how broken things are.
Daniel’s hope in the lion’s den was not a denial of his
predicament;
it was a
trust in God’s power to deliver him, even in the face of death.
The saints in Revelation endure not because they are blind
to the beast’s power,
but because
they trust in the Lamb’s ultimate victory.
Today, we are called to look for signs of hope,
even amidst
the darkness.
And we find that hope in the courage of those who stand up
for what is right,
in the acts
of compassion that restore dignity,
and in the resilience of communities
that refuse
to be defined by their suffering.
Every time we see love triumph over hate,
justice
over oppression, and truth over lies,
we catch a glimpse of God’s kingdom breaking into our world.
Proclaiming the Kingdom Through Our Lives
Advent invites us not just to hope for the kingdom
but to
participate in it.
As followers of Christ,
we are
called to be witnesses to God’s coming reign.
This means living in ways that reflect the values of the
kingdom
—loving our
neighbours, standing up for the vulnerable,
and working
for peace and justice.
When we resist the forces of oppression and dehumanization,
when we
choose to forgive rather than retaliate,
when we
extend hospitality to the stranger,
we are proclaiming that God’s kingdom is real and present.
We become signs of hope for others,
demonstrating
that another way is possible.
The Promise of God’s Eternal Kingdom
And so Advent is ultimately a season of promise.
It is a
reminder that the story of the world is not one
of
endless cycles of power and decay
but of
redemption and renewal.
The birth of Jesus signals that God has not abandoned
creation
but is
actively working to restore it.
This is the hope of Advent: that God’s kingdom will never
end,
and all
things will be made new.
So, as we wait and watch a dark world this Advent,
let us do
so with hope.
Let us resist the powers
that seek
to draw us away from God’s purposes,
and let us live as citizens of a kingdom that is eternal.
For the hope of Advent is not just that Christ has come,
but that
Christ comes again, to each of us,
being born anew in our lives
as we open
ourselves to the hope and mystery of God.
May this hope sustain us, guide us, and inspire us
to live as
people of hope and resistance,
proclaiming the good news of a kingdom that will never end.
