Resistance is never futile

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 21^st 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.