Revelation 18: The Funeral That Exposes Our Selfishness

Three groups of people watch Babylon burn in Revelation 18. Kings. Merchants. Sailors. All of them weep. All of them wail. All of them cry out the same funeral dirge: "Alas, alas, for the great city." And not one of them sheds a single tear for the people who died.

That detail should stop you cold. Because this prophecy about the end-times collapse of the world's greatest commercial empire isn't just a timeline on a prophecy chart — it's a mirror held up to the human heart. And what it reflects back is the terrifying depth of selfishness that lives in all of us.

The Funeral Dirge Nobody Expected

Revelation 18:9-24 is structured as an ancient funeral dirge — a short, rhythmic song of grief performed at a memorial. Jesus himself referenced dirges in Matthew 11:17. But this dirge isn't mourning a person. It's mourning a city. Babylon, the end-times commercial empire that will function as the financial crossroads of the nations under the Antichrist's control, will be judged by God and destroyed in a single hour.

What makes this passage remarkable is that God doesn't merely announce Babylon's destruction. He gives us the reaction. Three distinct groups — the kings of the earth, the merchants, and the shipmasters — each deliver their own cry of grief. And while the rhythm is shared ("Alas, alas, for the great city"), the content of their sorrow reveals something ugly: every single group is mourning how Babylon's fall affects them (watch at 46:14).

The kings cry out about "the mighty city" — their concern is political power and stability. The merchants weep over fine linen, purple cloth, jewels, and pearls — their inventory, their quarterly numbers. The sailors throw dust on their heads because their income has evaporated, their trade routes decimated.

As Pastor Daniel Batarseh put it bluntly: "They're not mourning the loss of the people in that city that will be judged by God. They're not concerned about the devastation. They're expressing how bothered they are because of their personal wants and needs that have now vanished because of Babylon's disappearance. This is selfish. This is hideous. This is human nature" (watch at 47:17).

They interpret catastrophe — divine judgment, no less — through the filter of my position, my products, my paycheck. And if you think that sounds extreme, consider how often we do the same thing with far smaller disruptions.

Self-Love Is the Mother of Every Other Sin

This is where the sermon took a turn that made the whole room go quiet. Because the selfishness on display in Revelation 18 isn't some unique tribulation-era phenomenon. Paul told Timothy to expect it.

In 2 Timothy 3:1-5, Paul warns that "in the last days there will come times of difficulty." And here's what's striking: a first-time reader might expect Paul to list nuclear war, natural disasters, economic collapse. Instead, at the very top of his list? "People will be lovers of self."

Not lovers of violence. Not lovers of chaos. Lovers of self. And everything else in that devastating catalog — lovers of money, proud, arrogant, abusive, disobedient to parents, ungrateful, heartless, brutal — flows downstream from that one poisoned spring.

This isn't a minor observation. James 3:16 confirms it with surgical precision: "For wherever jealousy and selfish ambition exist, there will be disorder and every vile practice." Every. Vile. Practice. You only need two ingredients — jealousy and selfish ambition — to produce chaos in any environment. A marriage. A church. A business. A friendship. Selfish ambition is the breeding ground, and everything that harms grows in its soil.

The reverse is equally powerful. If selfish ambition invites hell on earth, then what would a marriage look like where both husband and wife wake up asking, How can I serve you today? What would a church look like where every ministry leader's first instinct was to build others up rather than build their own platform? "You'll have heaven on earth," the sermon declared. "Because our Christ, our Savior, is a selfless Savior" (watch at 56:59).

And then came the moment that hit hardest. A simple observation about a verse most of us have memorized and stopped feeling: "The Son of Man came not to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many." God took on flesh. The Creator entered His own creation. And He came not to demand service but to render it. "And here I am," Batarseh said, "a creature infected by Adam's sin, and I dare justify my selfishness?" (watch at 58:32).

How do you know if selfish ambition has infected you? Philippians 2:3-4 gives you the diagnostic test. Paul doesn't say you should have no self-interest — read it slowly: "Let each of you look not only to his own interest, but also to the interest of others." The question isn't whether you have needs. You do. The question is whether your needs are the only ones on your radar. To the degree that you consider how your decisions affect your spouse, your children, your church — that's the degree to which you're free from Babylon's grip.

People Listed Below Gold: What the Merchants' Cargo Reveals

The Holy Spirit could have summarized the merchants' loss in a sentence. Instead, He gives us a detailed inventory list in Revelation 18:12-13. Gold, silver, jewels, pearls, fine linen, purple cloth, silk, scented wood, ivory, bronze, iron, marble, cinnamon, spice, incense, wine, oil, flour, wheat, cattle, sheep, horses, chariots — and then, at the very bottom of the list: "slaves, that is, human souls."

Did you catch the order? People come after gold. After jewels. After cinnamon. Human beings listed as the final line item on a cargo manifest, sandwiched between livestock and the closing period.

This is the spirit of Babylon: people treated as commodities. Bodies bought and sold like furniture. And before we relegate this to some future dystopia, consider that this is already happening. Pornography. Human trafficking. Dating apps designed for anonymous sexual encounters. Every one of these industries treats a person made in God's image as a product for consumption.

The call in Revelation 18:4 — "Come out of her, my people" — is addressed to God's people. Not pagans. Not atheists. Believers who have drifted into Babylon's way of seeing the world. Believers who have started viewing women's bodies as products. Believers who evaluate every new relationship by asking, What can this person do for me?

"I can tell you one way that a Christian is closer to Babylon than they are the kingdom of God," the sermon pressed. "The indulgence of pornography. Getting on an app and meeting a stranger in person for a sexual rendezvous. That's Babylon. That's treating people as objects of your own consumption for your own pleasure" (watch at 1:09:25).

The word for somebody today is the same word God spoke over ancient and future Babylon: Come out of her. Get out. Flee. Run.

Dust on Their Heads — But Not for the Dead

The sailors do something the kings and merchants don't: they throw dust on their heads. In the ancient world, this was the most extreme expression of grief, reserved for devastating loss — usually someone's death. You'd expect, then, that these shipmasters are gutted over the human casualties in Babylon's destruction.

Read verse 19 again: "They threw dust on their heads as they wept and mourned, crying out, 'Alas, alas, for the great city where all who had ships at sea grew rich by her wealth.'"

The dust wasn't for the dead. It was for the money.

They mourned the loss of their income with the same intensity a person mourns the loss of a child. This is what materialism does to the human heart — it replaces people with portfolios, relationships with revenue streams, grief over souls with grief over stock prices.

And right after this grotesque display, a voice from heaven crashes in with a jarring command in verse 20: "Rejoice over her, O heaven, and you saints and apostles and prophets, for God has given judgment for you against her." The contrast is intentional. What the world weeps about, the redeemed celebrate. What the world clings to, the church holds loosely. We are, as the text insists, a different breed entirely.

"And Then What?" — The Question Babylon Doesn't Want You to Ask

The chapter closes with a mighty angel hurling a stone into the sea — a direct fulfillment of Jeremiah 51:60-64, where the prophet instructed Seraiah to tie a stone to a scroll of Babylon's judgments and cast it into the Euphrates, declaring, "Thus shall Babylon sink, to rise no more." What Jeremiah prophesied in shorthand, the angel in Revelation spells out in devastating detail.

Six times the phrase "no more" appears. No more music. No more craftsmen. No more lamplight. No more weddings. No more laughter drifting from a backyard dinner party. None of these things are inherently sinful. What makes them tragic is that they were enjoyed apart from God — gifts relished while the Giver was ignored. And so the Lord promises: whatever Babylon enjoyed without Him will one day fall permanently silent.

The sermon closed with a story that refused to let anyone leave comfortable. A childhood memory of a TV program — a man interviewing a college student. What do you plan to do next? Finish school. And then what? Get a job, pay off debt, get married. And then what? Have kids, save for their future. And then what? Retire, enjoy hobbies. And then what? Well, I guess it's over. Can't live forever.

And then what?

"That's my question for you," Batarseh said, his voice steady. "And then what? Now you're distracted. Now you have so many goals and plans. And then what? One day, you and including this preacher will be no more. And what Babylon does is distract you from that question" (watch at 1:28:21).

For the redeemed, every joy tasted here is a preview of an eternal feast. Every suffering endured is, as Paul says, light and momentary compared to the weight of glory ahead. But for those who build their entire identity on things with an expiration date — things God himself has scheduled for demolition — the silence of "no more" will be absolute.

The spirit of Babylon wants you to delay. To scroll past. To think about it later. But here you are, reading these words right now. And the question still stands.

And then what?

What to Remember

• Every group mourning Babylon's fall was grieving their own loss — not the loss of people. Selfishness distorts even our capacity for grief, turning tragedy into a mirror that reflects only our own interests.

• Self-love sits at the top of Paul's list of last-days characteristics in 2 Timothy 3 because it is the root from which every other vice grows. Jealousy and selfish ambition are the only two ingredients needed to produce chaos in any relationship, church, or institution.

• The merchants' cargo list places human souls at the very bottom, beneath gold, spices, and livestock. Whenever we treat people as products — through pornography, exploitation, or transactional relationships — we are operating under the spirit of Babylon.

• The sailors threw dust on their heads — an ancient expression of grief over death — not because people died, but because their wealth disappeared. Materialism can rewire the heart to mourn money with the same intensity reserved for mourning loved ones.

• The six-fold "no more" in Revelation 18:21-23 doesn't condemn music, marriage, or celebration. It condemns enjoying God's gifts while ignoring God himself. Every good thing received without gratitude to the Giver has an expiration date.

• You can't be Spirit-filled and selfish. The two are mutually exclusive. Christ came not to be served but to serve — and when He abides in a heart, compassion for others begins to replace obsession with self.

Questions to Sit With

1. If you lost your income tomorrow, would your grief look more like mourning a loved one — or mourning an inconvenience? What does your answer reveal about where your identity actually rests?

1. Think about the last major decision you made. Did you consider how it would affect your spouse, your children, your church — or only how it would affect you? What would Philippians 2:4 say about that process?

1. Is there an area of your life where you're treating people as products — evaluating relationships by what they can do for you rather than how you can serve them?

1. The kings of the earth recognized God's judgment and still didn't repent. Have you been confronted with an undeniable truth from God that you've acknowledged intellectually but refused to let change you?

1. "And then what?" — If someone asked you that question today, pushing past every plan and goal to the end of your life, how would you answer?

Scripture Referenced

• Revelation 18:9-24 — Primary passage: the funeral dirge over Babylon
• Revelation 18:1-8 — The prophecy of Babylon's fall (covered in previous sermon)
• 2 Timothy 3:1-5 — Characteristics of the last days, with self-love at the top
• James 3:16 — Jealousy and selfish ambition produce disorder and every vile practice
• Philippians 2:3-4 — The call to look to the interests of others
• Jeremiah 51:60-64 — The stone cast into the Euphrates, fulfilled in Revelation 18
• Luke 15:11-24 — The Prodigal Son, read in the opening
• Psalm 128:1-6 — The blessing of the man who fears the Lord

---

This summary was generated by AI from the sermon "The Funeral of a Wicked City | Revelation 18:9-24 | Pastor Daniel Batarseh (6/21/26)" preached by Pastor Daniel Batarseh at Maranatha Bible Church Chicago. Watch the full sermon →