Apocalyptic Concepts in the Middle Ages

Alpha and Omega

When was the Revelation of John written?

The text of the Apocalypse definitely existed already at the beginning of the 2nd century, it was known to Papias of Hierapolis and the martyr Justin the Martyr . The earliest direct evidence for the text is found in Irenaeus of Lyons, who believed that the revelation was received by John at the end of the reign of Emperor Domitian (81–96 ) . 13Theophylact of Bulgaria, however, wrote that John was exiled thirty-two years after the ascension of Christ, that is, during the reign of Nero ( 54–68 ). Traditionally, scholars associate the time of the text's creation with the latter's reign. The image of the "beast" (17: 7–11 ), on which the "great harlot" sits, is associated in Revelation with the notorious persecutor of Christians—the power-hungry, voluptuous Emperor Nero. The heads of the "beast" are identified with seven kings, of whom " five are fallen, one is, and the other is not yet come, and when he comes, he will not continue for long ." In the 3rd century AD . In his commentary on Revelation, Victorinus of Petavia, drawing on the legend of Nero's resurrection, combined the images of the emperor and the Antichrist. According to a popular theological theory that became established in the 19th century, the diabolical number 666, when written in the Hebrew alphabet, in which letters have their numerical equivalents, spells out the phrase "Nero Caesar."

As with everything related to deciphering the symbols of Revelation , this is just one version, which, upon closer examination, crumbles like the shaky houses of the two pig brothers in a popular fairy tale. Traditionally, the number of the beast in all translations is the famous number of the devil — 666 (χξϛ). However, in the oldest known manuscript of Revelation , Papyrus 115 (housed in the Ashmolean Museum at Oxford University), as well as in other ancient sources ( the Codex Ephraemi, the testimonies of Tichonius, Irenaeus, and others ), the number of the beast is given as 616 (χις). In current modern commentaries on the New Testament, the number 616 already appears as one of the options, and in the second century CE, Irenaeus of Lyons also knew of this number but considered it a copying error. In ancient times, numbers were written with letters: through a simple operation, any number could be converted into a set of letters, and vice versa, a word or phrase could easily be translated into a number. Such operations were called isopsephy (in Kabbalah, gematria) and were extremely popular in antiquity. Therefore, the question of Ephraim the Syrian (c. 306 – 373) seems quite logical: “ Did he who uttered the number of the name not know the name of the beast? First, he knew the syllables, and then he decomposed the name into letters; first he uttered the name to himself, and then, having put the letters together, he uttered the number, that is, that the letters make up six hundred sixty-six ? 14”

More than one theological spear has been broken over the interpretation of the number 666. The first theological discussions on the numerical decipherment of the beast's name date back to the second century CE. In his work "Against Heresies," Irenaeus of Lyons proposed several names (numbers) that added up to 666: Euthanas, Latinus, and Titan. The most convincing version was the name of a powerful and vengeful Titan, who, in Irenaeus's view, was similar to the sun and revered by many peoples and authorities. Jerome's interpretation (inherited from Irenaeus through Victorinus) repeats the Greek name " Teitan ," numerologically translating it into Latin as " Diclux " —a false sun—the Antichrist (this definition will frequently appear in Latin commentaries on Revelation). Ecumenius (6th century) proposed new readings in his commentaries on Revelation (Lampetius, Benedict) . However, he went further, reading into the cherished numerals not just proper names but also common nouns: "violent," "evil leader," "true destroyer," "vicious lamb." Primasius (6th century) deduced Anthemos—"enemy of honor," and Arume—"I deny," while Andrew of Caesarea (6th - 7th centuries) suggested that the absence of the pernicious name in the book was God's design.

In the 19th century, theologians hypothesized that the number 666 is a coded Hebrew spelling of the name "Nero Caesar." During Nero's reign in the eastern part of the Roman Empire Coins were minted with the Hebrew inscription " נרון קסר ", meaning "Emperor Nero" (Latin: Neron Caesar ). If we consider not the letters themselves, but their numerical values (according to the rules of Hebrew gematria), their sum will be equal to 666. Strange, but true - this theory is supported by a fragment of a verse found during excavations in Oxyrhynchus , stating that the number of the devil is 616. If we take as a basis the correct Latin spelling " Nero Caesar " (the nasal sound "n" is not transmitted in it, unlike the Greek), then the sum of the numerical values will decrease by 50 and will be equal to 616, therefore, in either case ( Nron Qsr - 666 or Nrn Qsr - 616), Emperor Nero is calculated .

The Number of the Beast is a kind of Christian MacGuffin: it's impossible to know the meaning behind the numerical sequence. For example, in the 20th century , the German theologian Ethelbert Stauffer deciphered the "Number of the Beast" as the name of Emperor Domitian , Nero's main rival for the title of Antichrist. Thus, depending on the calculation and the cultural and historical context, the symbolism of the number in different eras could point to Napoleon, Hitler, Stalin, and others.

the beast's name signifies Emperor Nero, Domitian, the Pope, Martin Luther, or another powerful ruler, dictator, despot, usurper, or revolutionary remains unclear. Yet, precisely this ignorance underlies the enduring relevance of Revelation, allowing the symbolism of the Antichrist to be linked not to any specific figure, but to imbued with new, topical interpretations. In any case, the underlying thrust of marking nations is linked to the idea of worshiping the beast-Caesar as an absolute ruler, or even an allegory for the earthly empire as a whole, while swearing allegiance to it denied man's connection to the true judge and ruler — God.

The historical context of the creation of the text of Revelation refers to the opposition of Christians in the first centuries of the Roman Empire, while the opposition of the faithful and the unfaithful, the right and the wrong, remains a part of human culture.

Thus, the emergence of Revelation at the end of the first century is largely determined by historical realities, as this text encodes an image of Rome at the time as a decadent, decaying kingdom mired in sin. The image of Rome in this case is likened to that of Babylon and alludes to the events of the sixth century BCE — the Babylonian capture of Jerusalem, which rhymes with the Roman capture of Jerusalem in 70 CE, followed by the momentous "destruction of the Temple."

Other, less popular hypotheses regarding the time of the composition of the text of Revelation have been put forward: under Titus, Trajan, Hadrian—but the dating problem comes down to a choice between the early (late 60s, in any case, before the destruction of Jerusalem in 70) and late (mid-90s – late 1st century) dates 15. Moreover, the early polemics of the patrists regarding the authorship of Revelation further complicate the picture: sometimes identifying the author with the Evangelist John 16, sometimes refuting this point of view, even attributing the text of Revelation to the heretic Cerinthus, while Dionysius the Great proposed seeing the author as the Apostle's namesake 17. The question of the authorship of the Apocalypse remains not only open but also provides extensive field for comparative studies of the texts of the New Testament corpus, phraseology, Christology, and speculative theories.

Finding parallels with real events, on the one hand, provides dating markers, but on the other, it risks reducing the interpretation of a complex, symbolic work to a set of historical facts.

The Revelation of John the Theologian became the last book New Testament , summarizing a series Judeo-Christian texts eschatological And providentialist character . The uniqueness of the Apocalypse lies not only in its symbolic summation of eschatological prophecies, but also in the fact that the Revelation of John seems to bring the biblical story of creation, the universe, history, and humanity full circle and thus concludes it. Reflecting the beginning and summing up the conclusion, the Apocalypse became the alpha and omega of tradition and covenant. If the Book of Genesis (the first book and a kind of prologue to all Scripture) presents the process of God's creation of the world, which took seven days, then the Apocalypse (a kind of epilogue) concludes the Bible—closing the book of human existence. Revelation seems to become a mirror image of the Book of Genesis, only it tells not of the creation of the world, but of its gradual collapse in the process of apocalyptic chaos and the Last Judgment. The creation of the world is akin to an engineering feat, a structure composed of earth, sea, sky, man , order, and so on. The Apocalypse, however, deconstructs this system, dissecting and dismantling the world brick by brick, revealing the blessed infinity of the New Jerusalem to the righteous and condemning sinners to eternal hellish torment. The paradisiacal existence of the New Jerusalem is practically hidden from John, the seer of the mysteries, remaining unimaginable to the mind and inaccessible to the eye—a space of the fusion of God and man. Since human empiricism has not yet experienced such a state, its unambiguous description is impossible. The experience of the New Jerusalem is transcendental, inhuman, immaterial; its definition can only be realized through apophatic definitions: through the denial of createdness, matter, and the world as such. The presentation of the process of dismantling the world to nothing is achieved in the Apocalypse not only thanks to the shocking images of the Last Judgment and the Wrath of God, but also through the strict and harmonious structure of the text, held together by numerical and symbolic (animals, angels, luminaries, etc.) symbols, which become more complex as the narrative develops.

The uniqueness and originality of Revelation, which contains various elements of the poetics of prophecy, speech addresses, features of the epistolary genre and even tragedy, are more than obvious upon careful reading.

Metamorphoses of Perception

How did contemporaries and early church fathers perceive such a vivid and convincing work about the coming End of the World?

For two thousand years, the text of Revelation has been one of the most commented upon in the New Testament corpus. It consistently engages readers, stimulating thought and provoking diverse interpretations. Scholars and theologians continually and tirelessly ponder it, making it impossible to consider and accommodate all opinions, perspectives, and views on Revelation . However, the vast diversity of interpretations can be distilled down to just a few exegetical algorithms.

The primary question troubling everyone was when and where the Kingdom of Heaven—the New Jerusalem—would arrive. During the second century, Revelation gained widespread dissemination and acceptance. Patristians, like the apostles, were convinced that the Last Judgment and the Second Coming would not simply occur in the near future, but were already occurring "here and now." The sense of the imminent or already present End of the World has always distinguished the Christian Church from other faiths and mythologies. The most notable and important development of the Middle Ages was the development of a universal interpretation of the Apocalypse, uniting the views of many different authors (Hippolytus of Rome, Commodian, Victorinus of Petau, Methodius of Olympus, Lactantius). This view of the Apocalypse is linked to the concept of a cosmic week, after which Armageddon will occur, but it will be preceded by a thousand years of abundance and grace — the seventh day. This formula reflects the events of the Book of Genesis: just as the world was created by God in six days, followed by a Sabbath of rest and blessing, so the world must last for six thousand years, and with their end the millennial kingdom of the saints will begin. Irenaeus Lyon , Justin Martyr and Tertullian considered , What Kingdom of Christ will triumph on earth and Christ with the righteous in the flesh will rule the world for a thousand years, after which the final battle between Good and Evil and the Last Judgment will take place.

In connection with the six-day creation of the world, the cursed six in the number of the beast also acquired new meaning. Irenaeus believed that the world, created in six days, would last for 6,000 years. Accordingly, the number of the beast, consisting of " six hundred, six ten, and six units ," symbolizes the complete restoration by the Antichrist of all the apostasy that occurred during the 6,000 years of the world's existence: "And therefore in the coming beast there will be a restoration of all wickedness and all deceit, so that all the power of the apostasy, having gathered and confined itself in him, will be cast into the furnace of fire. And incidentally, his name will have the number 666, because he restores in himself all the mixture of evil that existed before the flood and that arose from the angelic apostasy 18. " In the interpretation of many medieval theologians, the number 666 symbolizes the threefold proclamation of creation without the Sabbath and the world without the Creator, which signifies the threefold and final renunciation of God.

Victory over the forces of demons and dreams of a thousand-year reign of the righteous were extremely popular and were based on a literal reading of Revelation: " They came to life and reigned with Christ a thousand years " (Rev. 20:4). The idea of this millennium is repeated six times in chapter 20. However, the Church Fathers differed in their interpretations of the details: whether the age of grace would come before or after the Resurrection, before or after the Judgment, and so on.

For the first time, the Alexandrian school of theology no longer perceived Revelation as a prophecy of a millennial reign on earth. Origen and Clement proposed an allegorical interpretation of the work, shifting the emphasis to the Christian's spiritual life not in the future, but in the present age. The theologian Tichonius, in his fragmentary extant commentaries, rejected the understanding of the millennial reign as a period following the Second Coming of Christ. It was Tichonius, who influenced Augustine's teaching, who interpreted the millennium as the period of the Church's existence on earth, the beginning of which had already been marked by the saving events of Christ's crucifixion and resurrection. Following this thought, Blessed Augustine believed in Chapter 20 of The City of God that the thousand-year kingdom of the righteous is the already existing Church, thus, the Last Judgment is the torment of the cross and the death of Christ, after which, for those who believed in him, and, consequently, the saved, the era of the Kingdom of Christ begins in this world, in the time and history that man lives through.

As persecution of Christians waned, and the Church became firmly established and fully recognized, interest in the Apocalypse also waned. By the fifth century, the Eastern Church Fathers began to doubt the very canonicity of the text, which became less popular in Orthodoxy than in the West, where the patristics rejected millenarianism and the idea of the End of the World as a predictable, imminent future.

Although John the Evangelist's text by no means lost its appeal in the eyes of Western theologians, it was read symbolically or as an allegory of spiritual life and the development of a Christian. Conceptually, the Apocalypse was connected to the problems of the individual soul and the paths to personal salvation in the writings of Bede the Venerable, Beatus of Liébana, Ambrose of Outpert, and Gaimon of Auxerre. Medieval intellectuals continually turned to the Apocalypse for inspiration, and new interpretations continually emerged. Some considered Revelation the only text written by Christ himself, while others considered it the most important book of all Christian doctrine 19, the "flower of theology 20. "

At the end of the 12th century, Joachim of Fiore (d. 1202) perceived Revelation as a prophecy about the course of human history, to which various sections of the book correspond. Believing that he lived during the opening of the sixth seal, Joachim boldly correlated individual images with contemporary realities: in the sixth king, corresponding to the sixth head of the beast, he saw Saladin, who recaptured Jerusalem from the Crusaders. In each of the seven heads of the dragon, he saw a sign of the devil, realized in history: seven kings, of whom " five have fallen, one is, and the other has not yet come " (Rev. 17:10), the five "fallen" kings-antichrists — Herod, Nero, Constantius, Muhammad, Melsemut, and the Antichrist, Joachim's contemporary — Saladin. The final Antichrist is identified with the "beast from the sea" who will come in the near future. In some cases, Joachim interprets the same series of visions in relation to events from different eras. According to Joachim of Fiore, Revelation maps the course of all human history and provides the key to understanding all of Scripture. Several decades after Joachim of Fiore's death, interpretations appeared by the Franciscan Alexander Minorite and then by Nicholas de Lyra: Revelation was no longer viewed as a multifaceted symbolic-historical text, but as a reflection of specific historical events in their strict chronological sequence. Only with the onset of the Reformation did a comprehensive textual analysis of the Revelation of John the Evangelist become relevant.

The milestones in the development of theological polemics about the coming Last Judgment and the attainment of the Kingdom of Heaven were reflected in changes in Christian iconography 21.

Apocalypse in pictures: visualization

Depictions of the apocalypse are rare until the end of Constantine's reign. By the end of the fourth century, Christianity was established as the official religion of the Roman Empire under Theodosius (391): early Christian art flourished, doomed to adhere to Rome's good old imperial ambitions. The iconography familiar to Romans acquired new meanings, dissolving into Christian ritual 22. The one Christian God increasingly manifested himself in recognizable, solemn images of emperors and pagan gods. Fresco and mosaic were Christianized, and the Fayum portrait mimicked the icon. Just as the new invisible God became visible, so the coming apocalypse acquired its visible equivalent.

However, the catacomb frescoes and sarcophagi created before Constantine contain the origins of Christian iconography and elements that would later become integral to the visual program of the Apocalypse. Individual symbols—the Alpha and Omega 23, the lamb, the palm branch, the separation of the wise and foolish virgins, the good sheep and the wicked goats (Matthew 25:1–33 ) —would be compositionally combined on the walls of churches in the 5th and 6th centuries in Rome and beyond. And to them will be added new images that will enter the arsenal of the artistic language of Christian culture: a lamb standing on a throne, the preparation of the throne for Christ as a sign of the Second Coming ( Hetoimasia - the prepared throne), a scroll with seven seals, seven candlesticks, angels, the worship of Christ by 24 elders in the form of homage to the emperor, rooted in the court ceremonial of antiquity ( A urum coronarium ).

The mosaic of the Roman basilica of Santa Pudenziana from the late 4th - early 5th centuries, meticulously restored in the 16th century, nevertheless preserved the idea of representing the Last Judgment: Christ sits among the apostles, above him is depicted a vision of Jerusalem merging with Golgotha, on which stands a monumental cross - a symbol of death and resurrection, beginning and end, surrounded by the Four Living Creatures in the rays of the setting sun.

The appearance of the Four Living Creatures, quite common in Christian art, is unusual. It derives from the description of a single creature, the tetramorph, from the prophecy of Ezekiel (ancient Greek: τετρά-μορφος— "four-shaped, four-formed"), combining four faces: a man, a lion, a bull, and an eagle. In chapter 4 of Revelation, John the Theologian continued this tradition, but describing each of the four creatures separately—the guardians of the four corners of the Lord's Throne and the four boundaries of Paradise. These animals were later interpreted as symbols of the four evangelists.

The triumphal arch above the apse of the 5th- century Basilica of San Paolo fuori le Mura in Rome features the adoration of the Lamb by the 24 Elders at its center—just like the old façade of St. Peter's . And the mosaic of 24the 6th- century Church of St. Cosmas and Damiano abounds with signs of the Second Coming in numerous visual references to the text of the Apocalypse: a lamb on a throne, a scroll with seven seals, seven candlesticks, and the four living creatures.

sixth- century monuments continue the eschatological baton: in the dome of the Basilica di San Vitale, a lamb in a medallion, carried by four angels, recalls the Last Judgment. On the north wall, angels hold an apocalyptic cross. In Theodoric's Basilica of Sant'Apollinare Nuovo, the Passion of Christ, the Resurrection, and the parable of the separation of the good sheep from the wicked goats capture the Gospel eschatology: to the right of Christ is a red angel, guarding the sheep (the righteous), and to the left, next to the goats (the sinners), is a blue one (Matthew 25: 31–33 , see Fig. 42) . The Basilica of St. Michael in Africisco (Chiesa San Michele in Africisco) depicts Christ seated on a throne, surrounded by seven angels with trumpets, complementing the apocalyptic narrative. On the façade of the basilica in Poreč, Croatia, from the sixth century, apocalyptic images of seven candlesticks testify to the anticipation of the Last Judgment.

A collective eschatological statement that had developed by the 9th century. The scene in the conch of the apse depicts the coming Second Coming of Christ. The Lamb standing on a mountain, the tree of life, and the rivers of paradise express the idea of the heavenly Jerusalem. In the center is depicted the Savior walking on red, blue, and green clouds. In his left hand, Christ the Lawgiver holds a scroll ( traditio) . legis ) with the Greek letters Α and Ω. This image illustrates the beginning of the Apocalypse: " Behold, He comes with clouds, and every eye will see Him, including those who pierced Him... I am Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End " (Rev. 1:7-8 ) . Christ's right hand is raised, bearing the marks of the nails—stigmata—a symbol of torment, death, and resurrection. The scroll with seven seals and the lamb surrounded by the Four Living Creatures, the empty throne awaiting Christ, symbolizing his reign and the Second Coming, Christ himself standing among the apostles—all these are vivid images of the End of the World, visualized in mosaics and on the pages of manuscripts.

The abundance of apocalyptic motifs in early Christian art can be interpreted as a reflection of eschatological reflections on the actual arrival of the last day, expected relatively soon after the already accomplished Resurrection of Christ. The timeless, triumphal character of the images affirmed by the representation of Christ is linked to the interpretation of the "true parousia"—a concept in Christian theology that originally denoted both the invisible presence of the Lord in the world from the moment of His appearance and His coming into the world at the end of time.

On the one hand, the abstraction and dehistoricization of the Apocalypse was the result of the exegesis of Tichonius and Augustine. On the other hand, theology linked the heavenly and earthly worlds—not least through the fusion and identification of the image of the ruler with that of Christ. The concept of the divine origin of kingship acquired strength and significance. This process resulted in changes in iconography: the idea of God—and especially Christ—was personified not in the good shepherd, but in the emperor, the Pantocrator-Almighty 25. Not only iconography changed, but also the very understanding of the world: everything physical acquired its metaphysical dimension. Christian culture was enriched and filled with signs, symbols, and interpretations, the decipherment of which depended on knowledge of Holy Scripture. The world was conceived through text. The word, possessing a sacred nature, became fundamental to understanding all of life and the structure of existence. Therefore, contemplative study, meditative copying and contact with the sacred text were embodied in the cult of the manuscript book, as well as in the beauty of the miniatures that accompanied it.