Born of a woman in heaven: cosmic origin of the Messiah

Creative Commons License

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

by Neil Godfrey

Blake's The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clo...
Image via Wikipedia

Professor Bruce J. Malina, a leading scholar in the Context Group, has written a book on the genre and message of the book of Revelation in which he interprets it as an astral prophecy. This is from the dust jacket blurb of On The Genre And Message Of Revelation: Star Visions and Sky Journeys (1995):

As one of the pioneers of applying social criticism to the biblical text, author Bruce Malina has helped revolutionize the way we think about the text and our models for interpretation. Now in a compelling new study—and one that will surely be his most controversial—Malina offers a completely new lens for viewing the book of Revelation. Malina contends that John the Seer’s milieu was one of intense interest and fascination with the sky, especially with those “beings” in the sky—constellations, planets, comets, sun, moon, and zodiac—that controlled the destiny of the Earth and its inhabitants. He asserts that John has his own interpretation of the sky that follows not the Greco-Roman astrological myths but the Jewish and Christian story of God’s salvation in Messiah. John thus stands as an “astral prophet” who interprets the sky in accordance with what has taken place in Christ. This vibrant reading of Revelation is buttressed by innumerable ancient literary and archeological sources that demonstrate that John’s world was indeed one enamored with the sky and its significance for planet Earth.

According to Revelation 4:1, John the Seer looks in the sky and observes an “open door.” Then the “first voice” invites John “up” to the heavens to witness what must take place. “In the spirit,” John describes what he sees in the sky. Is John really looking at the sky? . . . . . . Is John the Seer’s language of special numbers, brilliant colors, heavenly thrones, elders, angels, sun, moon, and stars more in keeping with descriptions of the sky than with apocalyptic visions? Bruce Malina thinks so, and he builds an unusually impressive case that will surely stir the interpretive waters surrounding John’s Apocalypse. On the Genre and Message of Revelation does what Bruce Malina has done so well for decades: he challenges Western readers to think like ancient Mediterraneans, to slough off biased, scientific presuppositions, and to explore the world of Jesus and his followers with a new map, one that leads to a richer understanding of the New Testament witness of Revelation.

Malina explains his view of the genre of Revelation:

[T]he events and entities described in the book of Revelation are not very different from what is generally called “astronomical” or “astrological” literature. However, the author of the book of Revelation claims to be a prophet; he ranks his work among the prophecy of his day and age. Consequently, by his own estimation, his writing would be a subset of the genre or type of astronomical and/or astrological literature, but of a prophetic sort, for there were other writings that formed other subsets of astronomical and/or astrological literature. For example, there were writings on the meaning of thunder . . . , forecasts for the year based on given constellations of the zodiac . . . . , writings indicating which planets and their deities or angels are in control of hours of the day; and of course there were horoscopes . . . . But none of these claimed to be prophecy the way John’s work does. . . .

For the ancients the sky (Malina prefers this term to “heaven”) was filled with living cosmic beings controlling events in the sky and on earth. Ancient authors of astral prophecies believed they were given divinely inspired understandings of celestial phenomena, and . . .

Distinctive of the astral prophecy in Revelation (and other writings like it) is that the prophet describes events in story form, that is, in narrative.

So we may say that as a genre or type of writing, astral prophecy, like that in the book of Revelation, is a type of astronomic writing with a narrative framework which sets forth information derived from the prophet’s interaction with celestial entities. (p. 26)

Malina explains the historical-social contextual reasons we have come to think of Revelation quite differently, and I look forward to outlining these in another post. Also I’d like to discuss the evidence Malina shows us for strong Jewish interest in astral divinities — just like their Gentile counterparts in the Hellenistic world.

Malina leads readers through the complexities of the ways ancients in various eras understood the happenings in the heavens (sky), and helpfully produces maps to clarify the different topographical compartments, regions, places in the sky where different “astral entities” (the living beings we know as constellations, stars, planets, comets, meteors . . .) “acted” in their various capacities and in relation to one another.

His discussion of the images and actions we read of in Revelation 12, the chapter describing the woman in heaven who is clothed with the sun, who is about to bear a child, and before whom “stands” a dragon, reminded me of other discussions about the meaning of Galatians 4:4 which says Jesus was “born of a woman”. On the surface those words are clear enough, but at the same time they can be legitimately seen as too clear — not the sort of thing one normally says of the origins of a fellow human. So unusual that Shakespeare was able to make dramatic use of the phrase in Macbeth. (Malina makes no such comparison with Galatians 4:4 and is not arguing against the idea that Jesus was a historical person.)

The woman, Malina argues (and supports with a rich tapestry of evidence) is what we know as the constellation of Virgo. But in Revelation 12 she is pregnant, while other astrological concepts of this constellation understood her to be nursing a child, like Isis with Horus. The dragon, Satan, is also “standing” before her in heaven. The word for “standing”, explains Malina, is a technical astrological term identifying the location of a constellation. The setting, he argues, is in pre-history. John is shown a detail of pre-history here, and events before Satan fell and before the one to become the Messiah (identified with the Enochian Son of Man — Enochian literature is filled with similar astrological imagery) was born.

But this child is born of this heavenly woman in this “prehistoric” time setting and taken to another place (in the sky) where God’s throne is. The dragon (Malina turns to ancient records to show the constellation of Scorpio at that time stretched from Virgo and through Scorpio to the Serpent Cupbearer (Ophiuchos). The tail covered an area of the sky with few stars visible to the naked eye but that was a setting for regular meteor showers.

John therefore sees the messianic figure being born of a woman in the heavens.

The first piece of activity after the presentation of the characters is the birth of a son from the Pregnant Woman. The action, then, involves the separation of our constellation from another, with the removal of the new constellation to yet another called the son’s throne, undoubtedly like the thrones of the elders/decans mentioned in the previous sector. Again, such thrones are not surprising. In Matt 25:31 we are told that the son of Man likewise has a throne in the sky. . . . (p. 162)

There can be little doubt that with the prehistoric birth of the sky Woman’s son, enthroned with God early in the history of the cosmos, we are viewing with John the origins of Enoch’s Son of Man. And there is equally no doubt that this Enochian Son of Man is the Messiah of Israelite expectation. “The Lord of Spirits and his Messiah” are mentioned in one breath at the end of the passage where the Son of Man is described (1 Enoch 48:10, OTP). And later we are told: “All these things which you have seen happened by the authority of the Messiah so that he may give orders and be praised upon the earth” (1 Enoch 52:4, OTP). While the story developed in this sector of the book of Revelation is not about the Messiah’s activity, it seems John’s vision of the Dragon’s origin necessarily involves the Messiah’s cosmic origin as well. (p. 164)

It is then that the woman falls to earth, which is a wilderness. Malina seeks to understand this through the writings of the day — by Aratus, the Sibylline Oracles, Seneca and Nonnos — that describe the heavenly woman coming to a barren earth and a great war depicted in heaven among the constellations.

For Aratus, Virgo . . . once lived on earth. She left for her present position in the sky . . . to avoid the terrible earth which became wicked . . .

On the other hand, Seneca describes how the starry Virgo comes down to earth. . .  But this is an abandoned earth, the earth at the end of the present world order. John does not explain the descent of the starry Woman or tell of her fate. Rather, he simply says that God takes care of the woman in the wilderness. . . . (pp. 164-5)

There are many details covered by Malina that I cannot list here. But there is one interesting link Malina draws between the “pre-historic” heavenly birth image and a passage in Ephesians 1:4:

The third action scenario (12:17) depicts the frustrated Dragon full of fury, on his way to wage an earth war. Against whom? The astral prophet abruptly and surprisingly informs us that the sky Woman has other offspring, called “her seed” (as in the case of Eve in Gen 3:15). These offspring are not prehistoric persons kept with God, but human beings in John’s world who keep God’s commandments and adhere to the witness of Jesus. However, their relationship to the cosmic sky Woman who gave birth to the cosmic Child enthroned with God before the foundation of the world intimates that these followers of Jesus likewise derive somehow from that ancient period. This is not unlike the Pauline tradition in which God is acknowledged for choosing the followers of Jesus “before the foundation of the world” (Eph 1:4). (p. 172)

I am not arguing that the author of Galatians 4:4 had John’s cosmic scenario in mind. I do not know what was in the mind of whoever wrote those words. But I do find Malina’s expedition into the thought-worlds of the ancients quite an unusual experience. I cannot help but be reminded of Earl Doherty’s constant message that so much of the New Testament has been understood through modern concepts and hence misunderstood. To read it through the eyes of the ancients themselves takes effort and wider reading to understand that thought-world.

The following two tabs change content below.

Neil Godfrey

Neil is the author of this post. To read more about Neil, see our About page.

Latest posts by Neil Godfrey (see all)

If you enjoyed this post, please consider donating to Vridar. Thanks!

8 thoughts on “Born of a woman in heaven: cosmic origin of the Messiah”

    1. I like the wealth of evidence Malina gives us for the thought-world of the time, but this is as far as he goes. His final page is another instance (found quite often in books by biblical scholars) of an offering of something like a spiritual message to Christians encouraging them to find something meaningful and relevant for today from that long-dead thought-world.

  1. Revelation could have had been a much shorter prophetic original without the seven churches or the seven candlesticks etc., or Jesus Christ and anything to do with him. Was this the revelation of the Spirit to possibly James. The prophet was in the Spirit, talking about the Spirit. The opening words would possibly have been like:

    1.1.The revelation of [Jesus Christ,] {the Spirit} which God gave [him] to [show his servants what must soon take place. He made it known by sending his angel to] his [servant] {prophet} [John] {James},

    1.2.[who testifies to everything he saw – that is, the word of God and the testimony of Jesus Christ.
    1.3.Blessed is the one who reads the words of this prophecy, and]

    blessed are those who hear [it] {the Spirit} and [take to heart what is written in] {obey} it, because the time is near.

    Hearing and obeying the Spirit brought cleansing.

  2. Neil,… just to let you know that I’m appreciating your two recent posts on Revelation. I find value reading ideas about the ancient thought-world.

    I’m reminded of April DeConick’s arguments about Gospel of Judas when it was first discovered and translated. She specifically related to ancient concepts in her discussions. For instance,

    Why should one scholar have to remind or instruct another scholar about the pleroma not having stars? That Judas’s 13th star was not a good thing. That the cosmic realm was that of the demiurge. The Sethians should not be subject to cosmic interpretation accepted by the mainstream.

    The Sethian anointed (Christ) is preexistent in the pleroma, not the sky (or heavens). I don’t think that practitioners of modern normative Christianity need to worry one way or another whether Jesus existed in the sky only or as a human, although many would disagree. He would still exist in their minds, just as their god exists. The Sethian “god” was not an existent god, per se. “It” was described in apophatic fashion in writings such as Allogenes and The Secret Book of John, in terms of what it was not, incomprehensible, ineffable, as not something that exists.

    As long as traditional Christians demand a self-contained existent cosmos to stage their belief system, they will be debated by naturalists. I do wonder what Sethians would think nowadays if a time tunnel were available. Whether or not astrological concerns of demons and angels would be supplanted by acceptance of scientific explanations is not known. Whether they would see any value in their influence on Jungian psychology is not known. But I imagine either way, they would still believe in an unknown beyond or superior to existence as we know it.

    This type of thinking has never taken hold in the mainstream. It doesn’t allow for proper social and political religious institutional control. It’s more dangerous than practice of an “inner journey”. One can still package “inner journey” in a dogmatic, earthly format. Western Christians and New Agers alike. Facing an ultimate unknown of which we are part, even considering limited understanding within any era’s milieu, might inform one’s conscious perspective as we deal with daily stuff of our world and our relations therein, but it also doesn’t rely on rigid religious systems that want to put a noose on ‘unknown’. That cosmic grip is what Sethians felt a need to contextually understand and systematically express in mythological and philosophical jargon, and then maneuver around, not succumb to.


Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Discover more from Vridar

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading