The Temple Within and the Fight Without

“Then I looked, and there was the Lamb, standing on Mount Zion!”
—Revelation 14:1

This verse stands out to me as an invitation to inner and outer work as I slow-write, verse and passage, through the book of Revelation. What is Mount Zion, and what does it mean that John sees the Lamb standing there? Mount Zion is a rich metaphor drawn from a particular place that echoes throughout the Bible. It references King David and the place of Jerusalem where kings held authority (2 Samuel 5:7). Zion-Jerusalem is also where the people built the Temple, so Psalmists sing in worship about praising God in Zion (9:11). In the prophets, Zion becomes a hopeful metaphor for God’s divine protection and care (Isaiah 4:5–6).

There’s also a universal and mythical dimension to Zion. It’s a “cosmic mountain” or axis mundi, mirrored in various other traditions, around which the world turns and where heaven and earth intersect. Check this quote out from Hebrew Bible scholar Jon Levenson:

The cosmic mountain is a kind of fulcrum for the universe; it is on the line to which all the regions of the universe are referred, and it is somehow available to each of them. The base of the mountain lies in the chaotic underworld, and its head reaches into the heavens. It is the prime place of communication between transcendent and mundane reality. Sinai and Zion

Thinking about Zion as a cosmic mountain where heaven and earth meet moves the metaphor away from particular land and its associated nationalist abuses in Zionism. It nudges me to ask, “Where is my Zion?” My Zion is the meadowed hill near my house where I take my dog to run and leap. In the winter, it’s my favorite place because it’s too cold for ticks, and the view of the Berkshire hills never ceases to be breathtaking. Or, my Zion is my meditation chair, where I cover myself with a special knit blanket, share my worries, fears, and joys with God, and sit in silence. It’s the place I go to disarm my heart. What are your “Zion” equivalents?

Image: My happy place near my house.

That’s why the Lamb standing on Mount Zion is important. The Lamb in Revelation is nonviolent, the animal symbol of Jesus who does not take up weapons and is murdered by political-religious powers. There is a violence inherent in Mount Zion, which makes the Lamb’s presence there all the more powerful. In the Old Testament, the “Lord of hosts” battles forth from Zion, waging war with a heavenly army (Lord of hosts just means Lord of armies, see Isaiah 31:4). This complex metaphor, when met with military might and colonial or nation-state power, becomes terrorizing instead of liberating.

There is the violence of Zionist settlers bulldozing and taking Palestinian land. Over a year into Israel’s genocide in Gaza, Israel is only multiplying its settlement expansion efforts in the occupied territories. But the Zion myth inspired English colonists to take land, too. They viewed America as a “new Zion” / promised land with Native Americans mirroring Canaanites to be expelled. The violence of Christian nationalism seeks to make the United States a “Christian” nation, which is related by degree to Christian Zionism and its unswerving support of the Jewish state. But this is not the way of the Christ Lamb. Instead, the Christ lamb fights through love.

I’ve recently been moved by Sikh activist and author Valarie Kaur’s remarkable book Sage Warrior. In it, she tells sacred stories of her Sikh ancestors and marries mystical wisdom while reinterpreting the warrior tradition of her Sikh faith. “Warrior” language has been so misused in Christianity, but that doesn’t mean abdicating the nonviolently fight for what’s right. Fighting for love and justice is what’s needed in our time of rising authoritarianism and ethnic nationalism. She writes:

The warrior is someone who fights for humanity, including your own. You access your agency and activate power. In the face of injustice, you harness rage and refuse to surrender your humanity. You join others to grieve together and alchemize pain into energy and action. You choose courage in the face of crisis. In doing so, you become victory. You embrace rebirth. The warrior fights; the sage loves. Sage Warrior

Mysticism and passion for life combine the inner temple of “Zion” with the Lamb’s nonviolent resistance to injustice.