In Revelation 17 we have another notable account of the Roman Antichrist. “I saw”, says the Apostle, “a woman sit upon a scarlet coloured beast . . . And the woman was arrayed in purple and scarlet colour, and decked with gold and precious stones and pearls . . . and upon her forehead was a name written, Mystery, Babylon the Great, the Mother of Harlots and Abominations of the Earth. And I saw the woman drunken with the blood of the saints, and with the blood of the martyrs of Jesus; and when I saw her, I wondered with great admiration” (vv 3-6). This is an awful picture of human depravity; yet do not the annals of the Church attest its truthfulness? The woman, who is elsewhere called a harlot, evidently represents a corrupt Church; and the scarlet-coloured beast which carries her is the Roman Empire, the last of the four beasts of which we read in the vision of Daniel. For ages the Papacy was sustained by imperial power, and thus enabled to ride roughshod over the nations. Clothed in purple and scarlet colour she multiplied her decorations, adding “gold and precious stones and pearls”.
Her clergy, by means of the secrets committed to them in the confessional, can exercise a tremendous influence. And as Babylon of old swayed the earth, this modern Babylon has long ruled over much of its population. She is the source of most of the corruptions by which the Church has been defiled. One of her bishops promulgated the doctrine of purgatory; another contrived to secure his position as a temporal sovereign by contending for the worship of images; and another presided at the council in which the dogma of transubstantiation was first imposed on his adherents as an essential article of the faith.
Well may the Roman Church be described as “the mother of harlots and abominations of the earth”, for she is the fountain head of most of its ecclesiastical defilements. And we are told that the woman, in the Apostle’s time, was “the great city” which then reigned “over the kings of the earth” (Rev 17:18). Rome is here expressly specified. And it is reported of her that she is “drunken with the blood of the saints, and with the blood of the martyrs of Jesus” (Rev 17:6). The witnesses for the truth in the dark ages, with the most distinguished of the Reformers, including Wycliffe, Luther, Zwingli, Calvin and Knox, all believed that these statements pointed to the Roman Antichrist. And the torrents of blood which this Church has shed impart a melancholy emphasis to this interpretation. If the Church of Rome is not the subject of these varied announcements, it is impossible to name any other power in the past history of the world to which they can apply with any plausibility.
Since the Reformation, the condition of Roman Catholicism has somewhat changed. Protestantism has contributed to its improvement. It can no longer send forth armies to intimidate its enemies and to extend its power. Nor dare the Popes now venture to shock society by the sensuality, the drunkenness and the open wickedness which many of them once exhibited. They are now obliged to maintain an outward decency. Thus many do not see their way to recognise these Pontiffs as representatives of the Man of Sin and Son of Perdition. But all the while their spirit has remained unchanged. They are still as proud and pretentious as they ever were. Since the Reformation, they have sanctioned some of the most horrid massacres recorded in history. The Scribes and Pharisees of old had a reputation for sanctity, and yet our Lord describes them as a “generation of vipers”. The Popes still refuse to give up their claim to any prerogative which they ever exercised. The head of the Romish Church still retains all his unwarrantable titles. His present moderation is forced upon him by the necessity of circumstances. But, if he had the power, he would act as despotically as in the days of his unhallowed domination.
As time advances, the Pope reveals increasing evidences that he is no other than the chief priest of Antichrist. He still receives the homage of a large section of nominal Christendom; his rule extends over its darkest and most degraded regions; he claims a right to dictate to all the rulers of the earth; and his spacious palace of the Vatican is garnished with incentives to idolatry and superstition. Not long since he convened a Council,[^7] which obsequiously recognised his claim to infallibility, and he has denounced all who refuse to accept the dangerous and delusive dogma. He has cursed our Bible Societies and consigned to perdition those who are labouring to promote the universal circulation of the Word of God. The Jesuits, so long noted for hypocrisy and double dealing, are the prompters to whose advice he most defers. Since his Italian subjects have repudiated his domination, he has not improved in spirit and character. Truly this dictator of what is called the Catholic Church is a strange vicar of Christ – a strange specimen of an unerring guide, a strange representative of Him who said, “Take My yoke upon you and learn of Me, for I am meek and lowly in heart” (Mt 11:29).
I have carefully read the Apologia of Cardinal Newman[^8] with a view to discover what could have induced him to join the Church of Rome. The reason apparently was that he had never properly recognised the supreme authority of the Word of God. He did not believe that the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments are the only rule given us for our spiritual guidance. He seems to have regarded the spurious Epistles of Ignatius as equal in authority to the Epistles of Paul. Thus he says, “As to the Episcopal system, I founded it upon the Epistles of St Ignatius, which inculcated it in various ways” (p 50). And how foolishly does Newman speak of his bishop: “I loved to act as feeling myself in my bishop’s sight, as if it were the sight of God. It was one of my spiritual supports and safeguards against myself. I could not go very wrong while I had reason to believe that I was in no respect displeasing him.” This is the very doctrine of the pseudo-Ignatius.
How different is such servile submission to human dictation from the sturdy instruction of the Bible: “I speak as to wise men,” says Paul; “judge ye what I say” (1 Cor 10:15). “If any man preach any other gospel unto you than that ye have received, let him be accursed” (Gal 1:9). The faith of Newman rested, not on the Word of God, but on the word of the Ignatian impostor; and, at length, he became so bewildered that he gulped down Popery and all its incongruities. His Apoloquia is a very silly and illogical performance, utterly unworthy of an able theologian.
Prophecy has been given to us in Scripture, not to satisfy an idle curiosity, but to teach us that Jehovah is omniscient, to encourage us to trust in Him, to warn us against danger, and to possess our souls in patience under all the changes of our earthly condition. It shows us that the Lord reigns, that He sees the end from the beginning, and that He never forgets His people. The study of the prophecies relative to Antichrist should purify and elevate the mind. Wycliffe and Luther and Knox did not understand all the “dark sayings” of the Bible on this mysterious subject; they might not know what was meant by “the time, and times, and the dividing of time,” but they were assured that Antichrist would perish and that his days were numbered. They felt that, when wrestling with this powerful adversary, they were engaged in no useless warfare; and that, though they themselves might fall in the struggle, the truth for which they contended would be eventually triumphant. Do we not read, “The vision is yet for an appointed time, but at the end it shall speak, and not lie; though it tarry, wait for it; because it will surely come, and will not tarry” (Hab 2:3)?
Whilst the Oxford Movement[^9] has revived the hopes of the friends of the papacy, it has clearly revealed the dangers which threaten the best interests of British Protestantism. It is to be hoped that the people of England will never again submit to the dark despotism of an Italian dictator. The Church of England has indeed never been thoroughly reformed. In times past, its most enlightened friends have been prevented by secular authority from carrying out their desires for its improvement, and its recent aberrations are the results of false principles which it has never fully repudiated. But England, with the Bible in circulation throughout all its parishes, cannot surely be tempted to return to Rome. The spread of evangelical religion among the multitudes would counteract the influence of a besotted superstition. Rectors and curates may try to occupy the minds of the people with the frivolities of ritualism, and even bishops may hope to prop up their pretensions by telling of the virtues of apostolical succession; but these things will make small impression on an instructed community. Popery is doomed to fall.
The prophecies relating to Antichrist are often clothed in highly figurative language, and we may not find it easy to ascertain their meaning; yet the writers of Scripture instruct us to take heed to what they say. It is written, “Blessed is he that readeth, and they that hear the words of this prophecy, and keep those things which are written therein” (Rev 1:3). A prophecy fulfilled is an evidence of the inspiration of the writer; and a prophecy in the way of its accomplishment is worthy of special notice. There are various marks by which false prophets may be detected. The Lord Jesus has said, “Ye shall know them by their fruits”. When we find anyone condemned for speaking lies in hypocrisy, or “forbidding to marry, and commanding to abstain from meats” (1 Tim 4:2,3), we may be quite sure that we should give him no encouragement. When we learn further that the same teacher has an evil reputation, that he is intolerant and a persecutor of the saints, we may be convinced that we should renounce his fellowship. And when we see the same culprit sitting in the temple of God proclaiming that he is infallible and the vicar of Christ, we may be convinced that we have found the Antichrist.