The Chaos Monster
Hint: Whether on land or water, the chaos monster is tamed by the cross of the Messiah
The Chaos Monster
Almost like the Yeti, Bigfoot, or the Loch Ness Monster, the chaos monster carries a mythical, shadowy presence. In Scripture, it sometimes appears on land—in the form of a lion, a bear, or a serpent. Other times, it rises from the sea as a great creature of the deep. The Bible references the chaos monster throughout its pages, from the ancient poetry of Job to the apocalyptic visions in Revelation. Many Old Testament battles symbolically represent victories over this monster, or over giants that stand in its place. One scholar puts it this way:
“Joshua is, therefore, a victory over chaos, affirming Yahweh's rule in the world and his resolve to liberate from tyrannical power.”[1]
At times, this chaos monster is given a name—Leviathan.
In his study of Job, Doak writes, "Leviathan would be best imagined as a sea monster in opposition to the divine world."[2] So mythical is this figure that in 1651, Thomas Hobbes used the name Leviathan as the title of his political treatise. For Hobbes, Leviathan represented the need for a strong, centralized government to secure peace, prevent chaos, and maintain social order. His vision involved a kind of social contract—where people gave up certain freedoms and submitted to a sovereign authority (the Leviathan) whose role was to maintain law and order.
This week, the Executive Branch toured a new “prison.”
A place our government claims is necessary to keep the nation secure. This facility will house immigrants—most of whom have no criminal history and are non-violent—prior to deportation. It sits in the swamp lands of Florida and is being nicknamed “Alligator Alcatraz.” The name alone conjures the image of the chaos monster.
And truthfully, the idea isn't new. Just months ago, the President floated the idea of reopening the original Alcatraz in San Francisco. Many laughed, assuming it was a throwaway comment. In reality, it was a test—to gauge public response. Reopening Alcatraz proved financially impractical and lacked broad support. But the image of a prison surrounded by sharks—chaos monsters—was a hit. “Alligator Alcatraz” feels like a logical next step, particularly for those eager to champion “law and order.”
In his letter to the Romans, Paul writes:
“Everyone must submit to governing authorities. For all authority comes from God, and those in positions of authority have been placed there by God” (Romans 13:1).
He follows this with a key qualifier: that rulers are to serve the good of the people they govern.
And Paul would know something about rulers and prisons—he’d been incarcerated more than once.
A few verses later, Paul grounds his teaching in love:
“These—and other such commandments—are summed up in this one commandment: Love your neighbor as yourself. Love does no wrong to others, so love fulfills the requirements of God’s law” (Romans 13:9b-10).
Before Paul even mentions submission, he gives a practical model of what love looks like:
“If your enemies are hungry, feed them. If they are thirsty, give them something to drink... Don’t let evil conquer you, but conquer evil by doing good” (Romans 12:20–21).
In his recent work on the peacemaking of Jesus, Jesse Nickel writes:
“Violence harms, destroys, divides, and kills. It has no place in the kingdom of Shalom, and therefore must never be seen as the means of bringing it about.”[3]
“Alligator Alcatraz” is not just misguided policy.
It is evil. I am not against the need for prisons, or good law enforcement. But when leaders dehumanize immigrants—people created in the image of God—and laugh and pose for pictures while touring it—evil is an appropriate term. Even the name evokes the chaos monster that Scripture warns us about.
And let’s not be fooled: the President’s suggestion that American citizens could be imprisoned there wasn’t a joke. It was a calculated move—just another test to see how far he can go. My prediction—based on historical patterns we have seen—is that we will likely see American citizens locked up there within the year.
Decades ago, one political thinker, Hannah Arendt warned of Leviathan:
“From Leviathan comes the political machine, and from the political machine eventually comes Eichmann.”[4]
(Referring, of course, to Adolf Eichmann, a German tried in 1962 for war crimes.)
As dark as that all sounds, I still believe there is hope.
The chaos monster does not have the final word.
The cross of the crucified Messiah tames the chaos.
The true King holds Leviathan on a leash like a docile pet.
This King brings beauty from ashes.
His kingdom is one of peace—shalom.
Scripture declares:
“Even if they hide at the bottom of the ocean, I will send the sea serpent after them to bite them.”
(Amos 9:3b)
“You split the sea by your strength and smashed the heads of the sea monsters. You crushed the heads of Leviathan and let the desert animals eat him.”
(Psalm 74:13–14)
“You crushed the great sea monster. You scattered your enemies with your mighty arm.”
(Psalm 89:10)
The chaos monster does not win.
[1] J.G. McConville, God and Earthly Power: An Old Testament Political Theology (New York: T&T Clark, 2006), 101.
[2] Brian R. Doak, Consider Leviathan: Narratives of Nature and the Self in Job (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2014), 220.
[3] Jesse P. Nickel, A Revolutionary Jesus: Violence and Peacemaking in the Kingdom of God (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2024), 106.
[4] David Runciman, Confronting Leviathan: A History of Ideas (London: Profile Books Ltd, 2022), 193.