“And the Sea was No More”

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. (Rev. 21:1)

I’m a coastal person by nature. While I’m not a sailor, and I get rather seasick under any but the calmest conditions, I’ve never lived more than ten miles from the shore. Salt water and decaying seaweed smell like home to me. There is no more comforting sound than a seagull’s cry over the pounding of the waves. And, yes, I’ve been known to swim in the icy Atlantic off the coast of Maine on more than a few Memorial Day weekends. (Although “swimming” is perhaps a generous term.)

So I’m always somewhat dismayed when I read, in the chapter of the Revelation to John that we’ll be reading this Sunday, that John “saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away,” but “the sea was no more.” (Rev. 21:1)

It’s the kind of baffling throw-away phrase on which scholarly careers in Biblical studies are made, and I’m happy to say I once wrote a twenty-page term paper on exactly that question.  So if you’re a sea creature like me, perhaps you’ll enjoy a few short reflections on what John means when he says that in the new creation, “the sea was no more.”

Like most things in Revelation, it’s operating on four or five different levels all at once:

  1. On the ordinary level, the sea is a place of danger. While small-scale fishing voyages, coastal travel, and island-hopping were possible and relatively safe, the open Mediterranean was a stormy and dangerous place, and shipwrecks and mishaps were common and deadly, especially given most sailors’ inability to swim. This danger led directly to the…
  2. The mythological level: the sea symbolizes the chaotic, destructive powers of the cosmos. Many ancient Near Eastern creation myths include a battle between a god or God and the sea, or often a sea monster, in which the god must subdue the chaotic powers of destruction to make a safe and stable creation possible. And in fact, there are traces of such an idea throughout the Bible, with references to God struggling with sea monsters or holding back the waters of the deep to prevent them from overcoming life. In the “new creation” of Revelation, God has finally won an ultimate triumph over the powers of chaos, and this victory is symbolized by the absence of the sea.
  3. On the historical/political level, the sea is a highway for the spread of Roman authority. The author and audience of Revelation are not Roman citizens, but subjects whose homelands have been conquered by Roman armies sailing over the sea. John the Divine himself receives the vision while in exile on the island of Patmos: he has literally been separated from his own community by the combination of Roman power and the sea surrounding the island. So the abolition of the sea symbolizes not only the end of chaos on a mythological level, but the overthrow of the Roman imperial power of Caesar in favor of the peaceful and loving kingdom of God.
  4. This overturning of exploitation extends to the economic level, as well. Elsewhere the Book of Revelation envisions the destruction of the city of “Babylon” (a coded stand-in for Rome), and the grief of “all shipmasters and seafarers, sailors and all whose trade is on the sea” as they watch it burn. (Rev. 18:17) And they “weep and mourn for her, since no one buys their cargo anymore, cargo of gold, silver, jewels and pearls, [… the list goes on …] horses and chariots, slaves—and human lives.” (18:11-13) This is not a generic anti-business screed. The sea is a highway for human trafficking: soldiers go east to conquer, merchants return west with cargoes of enslaved prisoners and plundered wealth. John envisions these enslavers and looters weeping at the loss of the sea that has enabled their exploitative practices to thrive.
  5. On the ritual level, the sea is a symbol of purification. Water, salt, and fire are often associated with rites of cleansing and renewal, and indeed the container used for priestly ablutions in the Temple in Jerusalem was a giant bronze vessel known as the “Molten Sea,” (1 Kings 7:23) combining salt water and fire in one vessel! In earlier visions in Revelation, the human seer is separated from God by “something like a sea of glass mixed with fire,” (Rev. 15:2; cf. Rev. 4:6) That “the sea is no more” suggests that there is no longer a need for purification, no longer something to be washed away that separates the human being from God.
  6. Finally, on the community level: for all its chaos, danger, and opportunities for exploitation, the sea brings people together. John writes from the island of Patmos to churches in seven cities in Asia Minor, the western coastal region of what’s now Turkey. In a region defined by mountains and archipelagos, travel by sea is often much easier than travel by land, and the sea connects John to these small communities scattered in different cities around the area. In the new creation, though, God brings a new and holy city out of heaven, in which they all will dwell. The Church that has been scattered throughout the world is reunited in one place. The Church that has communicated through letters sent across the sea can now live together, face to face.

To be reunited in that heavenly city, living in a community of love with one another and with God, with chaos and empire conquered, with ritual impurity gone forever, is the greatest joy the angels can show to John.

Although, for my part, I think I’d still probably miss the seagulls.