Letter Seven

“And to the angel of the church in Laodicea write: ‘The words of the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the beginning of God’s creation.’” ~Revelation 3:14

We’ve had some high points and some low points in the letters of Revelation. Most of the churches received a mixture of praise and criticism. They had some things going for them and other areas in which they were compromised. Two of the churches had no criticism at all, yet the trials of persecution and poverty helped shape these faithful and zealous congregations. Are we willing to endure hardship for the sake of Christ and the growth of our faith?

As we come to the last letter, we discover something rather disquieting: they alone receive no praise. There is nothing commendable about them spiritually. Now, they might have thought all was well. There is no mention of hardship, material poverty, persecution, or looming threats just outside their doors. But, in fact, there is One looming outside their doors — the Lord Jesus Himself, who has been pushed to the outside of a church that bears His name.

Have you ever taken a sip of something, or perhaps a bite of something, and it makes you wretch? It makes you want to spit it out of your mouth. This is Jesus’ reaction to the church in Laodicea. Why? Not because they had faltered under the withering heat of hardship, but because they had become lukewarm in their self-satisfaction. Their love for Christ had cooled as their confidence in themselves had grown. They had become sinfully content with themselves and their estate. Their prosperity appears to have fostered a dangerous self-confidence: “Look at us, we have neither difficulty nor disease. We are okay.” But the reality was far different from their assessment.  

Friends, the church in Laodicea seems to have mistaken outward success for spiritual health. Historically, we know the city was quite wealthy, a hub of banking and commerce. To spiritually blind eyes, to be a Christian in Laodicea was a blessing from above. Their material wealth may have convinced them that all was well between them and God. Yet, blinded by self-confidence, they could not see what was right in front of them. So Jesus describes what had been in their mirror the whole time.

He says to them, “You are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked”— which itself is a kindness from Christ, to point out their true state. But He says something even more surprising right after this: He tells them to repent and be zealous. This doesn’t mean that the answer to Laodicean complacency is to try harder at being zealous. Rather, He reminds them that He Himself is their — and our — remedy. In a striking irony, Christ offers precisely what they lack: true riches for their poverty, white garments for their nakedness, and healing for their blindness. In mercy He exposes our poverty so that we might come to Him for true riches. He reveals our nakedness so that He may clothe us in His righteousness. He shows us our blindness so that He may give us sight. The cure for lukewarmness, then, is ultimately communion with Christ Himself.

Rev. Kyle Lockhart, Pastor