"The Number of the Beast" Iron Maiden and Faith

When Iron Maiden released The Number of the Beast in 1982, controversy erupted almost instantly. Tabloids, preachers, and parents accused the band of promoting Satanism, and the album was burned in public protests. For many, this single song confirmed the stereotype that heavy metal was nothing more than sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll with a darker edge. Yet those who actually listened closely to Iron Maiden discovered something far more complex. This was not a celebration of evil but an imaginative exploration of its horror.

Iron Maiden has always defied easy labels. Their catalogue brims with songs drawn from history, literature, and philosophy. They have written about World War II pilots, Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, and the martyrdom of Christians in the Roman Empire. Rather than glorifying decadence, they probe questions of mortality, fate, and the meaning of life. For that reason, Maiden offers fertile ground for Christians who want to engage culture thoughtfully: their songs consistently circle around themes of good, evil, life, death, and eternity.

“The Number of the Beast” itself is a perfect entry point. Inspired more by horror films than theology, the song tells the story of someone caught in a nightmare vision of hellish ritual. The biblical imagery of Revelation 13 provides the backdrop, but it is presented through the eyes of terror, not temptation. The narrator is horrified at what he sees. Far from encouraging listeners to worship the beast, the song intends to evoke dread, much as a horror movie would. What outraged critics missed is that the song is not an altar call to Satan but a musical portrayal of spiritual darkness that is meant to disturb.

From a Christian perspective, this misinterpretation is revealing. Many people assume that when art uses biblical symbols, it must be making a doctrinal claim. Yet art often functions through metaphor and atmosphere, creating space to wrestle with fear, evil, and longing. That is precisely what Iron Maiden excels at. Their willingness to employ biblical imagery—even if in ways that sometimes blur the line between the profound and the sensational—creates an opportunity for believers to reflect on what Scripture really teaches. Revelation does not present the beast as a curiosity or entertainment, but as the embodiment of rebellion against God that will one day be destroyed by Christ.

Beginning with The Number of the Beast, we can explore Iron Maiden’s work not as satanic propaganda but as cultural art wrestling with ultimate questions. If their most controversial song turns out not to be an invitation to evil, but a meditation on the terror of it, then perhaps the rest of their catalogue deserves a second look. The band’s unexpected depth invites us to engage their music as a conversation partner about life, death, judgment, and hope.