Babylon Always Falls
- David Bronson
- Mar 17
- 7 min read
Updated: 2 days ago
I used to hear Isaiah 14:12-14 preached as a passage about Satan. Maybe you did too. You know, that whole "Lucifer, Son of the Morning" thing?
The larger context, going back to verse 1, is a passage dripping with poetic drama: a once-glorious ruler now cast down, stripped of power, left humiliated in the dust, mocked by a personified Creation herself. (And the maggots. Phew.) I won't post it here because it's long, but here's a link (it's the RSV translation).
The images are striking, almost apocalyptic. Now, when we read it in our English translations, we're usually told in verse 12 that the identity of this ruler is "Morning Star" or "Son of Dawn." These are good translations. But the history of Isaiah 14 is that the King James Version inserts a Latin name—Lucifer—into the text to translate the phrase "morning star" ('lucifer,' literally 'light-bearer'). It's an insertion of Catholic interpretational tradition (a perfectly valid one) that this text is speaking prophetically of a future defeat of the Satan, the serpent of the Garden.
But that’s not what Isaiah 14 is about. There's an important reason this text has been associated with Satan, but in the process, we've lost why this text is associated with Satan. (It's also produced the interesting belief that 'Lucifer' is Satan's name–it is patently not—but we'll leave that alone for now.)
When we step back and read the passage in its original context, we see something both more ordinary and more profound. This is a taunt—a kind of ironic funeral hymn—against an oppressive, almost cosmically-powerful ruler. It's that 'oppression' component that caused many Christians to see this passage as containing a message about cosmic evil—a message about the kind of evil that convinces human beings that the path to peace and wholeness is murder and rape.
But this ruler is still very much a human one - one who hoarded power, crushed humanity for his dreams of wealth, and ruled with astounding arrogance. "Son of Dawn" is just a title used for the King of Babylon, which was the imperial power oppressing Isaiah's people at the time of his writing.
Point is, this passage is not primarily a cosmic drama about Satan. It’s a reality check about human leaders who believe their own hype, build their own kingdoms, and assume they are untouchable.
And listen—if you grew up in a Christian tradition where spiritual authority was used as a weapon, where questioning leadership was framed as rebellion, where preachers were obsessed with controlling others instead of shepherding them—this passage might hit different.
Let’s take a closer look.
A Taunt Against Empire
Isaiah 14 was written to the people of Judah, who had been on the receiving end of Babylonian imperial policy. Babylon was the empire of empires, a military and economic powerhouse that steamrolled anyone in its way. They took land, enslaved people, and made sure everyone knew who was in charge with the edge of their swords. They would eventually go on to smother Judah, plunder the Temple, and deport the people from their homeland. It's the ancient story, literally: an indigenous people ripped from their place for those who want their land for economic purposes (Israel's territory sat astride the biggest trade route in the region).
And the thing is, Israel wasn't even a major conquest for them. It was a strategic piece, an otherwise-forgotten chunk of dirt. There were no planes with paratroopers coming, no Allies across the sea scheming to save them if they could just hold on. Babylon had Mesopotamia in a choke hold. It had broken the back of the old guys—the Assyrians, an empire itself so vicious that they'd have made a certain bunch of goose-steppers blush.
It had gone toe-to-toe with Egypt, Israel's much bigger neighbor, and fought them to a standstill. In the process, the Babylonians casually wiped out an entire major city—Ashkelon. They weren't going to be facing any consequences any time soon, as far as any Israelite could tell.
But Isaiah gives a prophecy: Babylon will fall. And when it does, people will celebrate. The power-hungry king who once made the earth tremble will be nothing more than a body in the dirt.
“How you have fallen from heaven, O morning star, son of the dawn! You have been cast down to the earth, you who once laid low the nations!” (Isaiah 14:12)
This is not a story about Satan being cast out of heaven. This is a human king who thought he was untouchable, who elevated himself above everyone else—only to be thrown down like all the other failed rulers before him.
This should sound familiar.
How many times have we seen leaders, pastors, or institutions rise to power, convinced they are the exception? Or convinced that their church, their ministry, their brand is the Chosen One—too anointed to fail? And yet, time and time again, the same things happen. You can't use Babylonian tools to build Kingdom projects. And that's because Babylon always falls.
Babylon always falls.
Rebuilding Babylon In Bethlehem
The most chilling part of this passage? The king’s words:
“I will ascend to the heavens; I will raise my throne above the stars of God… I will make myself like the Most High.” (Isaiah 14:13-14)
There it is. The obsession with control. The need to be worshiped. The deep hunger for more. More influence. More power. More certainty. Never enough. Never at rest. Never just being.
This is the spirit that drives every abusive pastor who equates disagreement with rebellion. This is the voice behind every Christian leader who twists scripture to consolidate power. This is the attitude of every empire—religious or political—that uses fear to control people.
It is not a coincidence that spiritual abuse so often thrives in churches where authority is unquestionable.
These are almost always the kinds of places where pastors call themselves "spiritual fathers," but don't have the courage to defend abused children in their own congregations. These are the places where women as a class are spoken of with contempt or disregard from the pulpit, while they slave in the nursery and kitchen and office, laboring to keep their church community afloat. These are the places where members are conditioned to believe that honoring leadership is more important than holding leadership accountable.
Somehow, these churches always have an air of the mechanized about them. The automated. The focus-tested. These things aren't bad on their own, but they reveal a Babylonian ethos, a frantic, frenetic rush to effectively rebuild the Babylonian world we're all trying to flee from right there in downtown Bethlehem. The spiritual advance of things like Christian Nationalism, theonomy, legalism masquerading as "gospel centrality," kinism, the New Apostolic Reformation, and worse inevitably causes us to look around and experience something akin to what the exiles felt: a whelming despair that it's all over—that goodness itself has been murdered.
That Wisdom herself lies slain in the street. That faith, hope, and love were just slogans on a poster, easily papered over with whatever message generates power. That we're fools for hoping. That God doesn't notice. Or that worse, he tacitly approves.
But Isaiah 14 makes it clear: YHWH is not impressed with human kingdoms. He is not impressed with leaders who build towers in their own name. He is not impressed with churches that chase influence at the expense of their people. And this text is making it abundantly clear that to Him, this is personal. He will see to it that the world gets justice.
And He will laugh with joy as he does it, the noble work of tearing apart yokes and obliterating chains, hurling down tyrants and billionaires (read James 5), and setting the world upright on a foundation of justice.
Babylon always fall
The Gospel in the Rubble
So, what do we do with this? If you’ve been hurt by a church leader who hoarded power, take heart: the Kingdom of God is not like the kingdoms of this world. YHWH no more approves of nor wills this than any lover of goodness would.
And why would He? The Creator of goodness knows what He made.
The Gospel isn’t about power hoarding, it’s about power sharing. It’s about a King who—instead of elevating Himself above others—stepped down, served, suffered, and gave His life for the sake of His people. The news of what Jesus did with his power defies our conventions about how power works, what power is for, why power exists. A Babylonian ethos of power, when presented with Jesus' "upside down" ethic, simply can't compute. After all, the two systems could not be less compatible.
If Babylon's a system where the powerful exploit the weak, then the Gospel is a system where the weak are lifted up and provided with the equity necessary to not only survive, but thrive. The powerful hate it because they're just arrogant enough to think that their power is because of their goodness.
If Babylon's a kingdom built on arrogance, the Gospel is a kingdom built on humility. Babylonian thinking requires a kind of certainty that makes true humility entirely impossible: it breeds an anxiety about others' behavior that leads to grasping for control.
And if Babylon's about controlling people, the Gospel is about setting people free.
Babylon will always fall. But the Kingdom of God? That will never be shaken.
Jesus is not like them. He doesn’t manipulate. He doesn’t exploit. He doesn’t demand your silence.
He sets captives free.
Final Thought
If you’ve lived through church abuse, spiritual trauma, or manipulation at the hands of religious leaders, Isaiah 14 is for you. It’s a reminder that God sees. He sees the arrogance. He sees the abuse. He sees the way power is used to crush people instead of serve them.
And He has something to say about it.
Babylon always falls.
And when it does, we don’t have to mourn. As a matter of fact, this prophecy of Isaiah's is not just an invitation to hope, it's an invitation to imagine a future celebration, a future world of peace and equity in which we can say together with Isaiah,
"The Lord has established [a safe place in the city of Peace], and in her his afflicted people will find refuge." ----- Starting on March 22nd 2025, I (David) will be leading a five-week mini-cohort aimed at deconstructing and reconstructing our understanding of the doctrine of 'atonement.' If you've ever wondered WHAT atonement is, WHY atonement is talked about in the Bible, WHO atonement is for, and HOW atonement works, or if you've experienced the terrible consequences that come when this doctrine is used to harm, then this is a great place to start. We'll spend the five weeks of the cohort discussing four major positions on the Christian concept of atonement, breaking down all the toxic teachings, and searching together for hope and light to lead us in the direction of greater healing and wholeness.
I'm no expert, just a former pastor with a Bible college degree and a profound sense that I have amends to make. We'll mainly look at other people's thoughts, not mine, and wind up spending a good bit of time sharing wisdom together. I'm really looking forward to it, and I'd be honored to have you be a part. Sign up below. If cost is an issue, please reach out! We never want price to prevent folks from getting help.
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