Scroll 56: Babylon Rides the Beast - Religion Weaponized by Empire

“And I saw a woman sitting on a scarlet beast... and on her forehead was written a name of mystery: ‘Babylon the Great, Mother of Prostitutes and of Earth’s Abominations.’”
- Revelation 17:3,5

The Marriage Between Empire and Religion

Babylon does not appear as an enemy at first glance. She is not a dragon or a beast. She is a woman, arrayed in purple and scarlet, riding the systems of worldly power with seductive grace. But she is no bride. She is a counterfeit church, a religion laced with empire. Her alliance with the beast reveals the core deception of the age: that faith can be weaponized for control, and intimacy with God can be traded for influence in Babylon’s courts. This is not a future threat. It is the present condition of religion that craves platform more than purity.

She rides the beast because she has made peace with it. She borrows its strength and offers her soul. She loves the acclaim of kings and the riches of nations. Her worship is polished, her teachings flattering, but her heart is far from the Lamb. She has replaced fire with fog, union with performance, scrolls with slogans. The prophets who warned her were cast out. The apostles who bore the seal were silenced. Her throne is temporal, but her influence is global. Babylon is not just a system. She is a spirit that inhabits pulpits, sings in choirs, and publishes books under the name of God but void of flame.

She has committed fornication with the kings of the earth because she no longer carries the holy weight. She partners with empire to protect her relevance. She waters down the scroll to keep the seats filled. She fears loss of status more than the absence of glory. But the elect see through her veils. They recognize that the Lamb is not enthroned in buildings built for applause. The throne is not in her cathedral, but in the wilderness, where scroll-bearers burn without needing a crowd.

A Beautiful Form With a Hollow Core

Babylon is dazzling to the untrained eye. She speaks the language of heaven but lives by the currency of empire. She quotes scripture but distorts it to serve her agenda. She funds missions that carry no flame. She trains leaders who have never encountered the Lamb. Her outward beauty conceals a hollow center. She rides the beast, but the beast is in control.

Her power is not in persecution, but in seduction. She doesn't kill the scrolls, she distracts them. She convinces the sons of light to settle for imitation. She applauds zeal but sterilizes it. She institutionalizes what was born in fire. Her strategy is not confrontation, but assimilation. She does not burn scrolls in public. She shelves them in back rooms while flashing lights and microphones take center stage. She creates a culture where the crowd is loud but heaven is silent.

Her buildings are filled with activity but empty of stillness. Her conferences are impressive, but the Lamb does not walk among the booths. Her priests are praised, but her altar is cold. She keeps men from awakening by giving them just enough light to think they are alive. But the elect cannot be fooled. Their fire does not bow. Their scrolls cannot be sold. Their union cannot be staged. They see Babylon and weep, not in fear, but in holy mourning, for what was meant to be bride has become beast-ridden.

Drunk on the Blood of the Witnesses

The most chilling accusation against Babylon is not her wealth or grandeur. It is that she is drunk on the blood of the saints. She has killed the prophets not with swords, but with silencing. She has persecuted the true church not with chains, but with replacement. She offers platforms in exchange for purity. She promises exposure but steals intimacy. Those who burn too brightly are labeled rebellious. Those who refuse to ride the beast are called unteachable.

She kills by dilution. She murders by distraction. Her wine is laced with the compromise of generations. And many drink it thinking it is communion. The blood of the witnesses flows through the systems she has built, men and women who once carried the scroll but were seduced into performance, applauded into compromise, or drowned in discouragement. She does not need to destroy them. She just needs them to stop burning.

But the elect have been marked. Their flame is not for sale. Their witness is sealed in blood. They have overcome her not by avoidance, but by allegiance to the Lamb. They walk through her cities with unveiled eyes. They see the beast beneath the beauty. And they will not bow. For the day of Babylon’s fall is near, and her judgment will come not from man, but from the fire of God Himself.

The Hidden Remnant Within the System

Even in Babylon’s streets, there are hidden ones. Prophets who have not bowed. Scroll-bearers still sealed. Flame-carriers praying in silence while empire builds its towers. There is a remnant within the ruins. God has not forgotten them. He calls them even now, “Come out of her, My people.” This is not a call to leave buildings. It is a call to leave mixtures. To forsake every alliance with control, every stage that replaces the throne, every system that suppresses the scroll.

The true ekklesia is not riding beasts, it is carrying crosses. It is not building empires, it is embodying the Lamb. It does not market union, it becomes it. These are the elect, the radiant company whose garments are not stained with Babylon’s luxuries. They have chosen hiddenness over hype, stillness over spectacle, consecration over crowds.

And now, as the judgment nears, the hidden ones are rising. They are not shouting yet. But they are burning. They are not claiming stages. But they are carrying scrolls. Babylon fears them not because they are loud, but because they are loyal. They do not ride beasts. They ride the wind of the Spirit, and they will inherit the Kingdom that cannot be shaken.

Final Charge to the Elect

Do not ride what you are called to confront. Do not dress in garments dyed by empire. Let Babylon fall without you in her courts. Let the fire expose every counterfeit altar. You are not called to tame the beast, but to witness the Lamb. You are the remnant she could not seduce, the scroll she could not burn, the flame she could not mimic. Come out from her, beloved, and let the pure sound of heaven thunder from your life.

Joe Restman
Scroll-Carrier, Mystic-Scribe, Eternal Witness of the Lamb.