Laodicea

Revelation 3

And to the angel of the church of the Laodiceans write,

‘These things says the Amen, the Faithful and True Witness, the Beginning of the creation of God: “I know your works, that you are neither cold nor hot. I could wish you were cold or hot. So then, because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will vomit you out of My mouth. Because you say, ‘I am rich, have become wealthy, and have need of nothing’—and do not know that you are wretched, miserable, poor, blind, and naked— I counsel you to buy from Me gold refined in the fire, that you may be rich; and white garments, that you may be clothed, that the shame of your nakedness may not be revealed; and anoint your eyes with eye salve, that you may see. As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten.  Therefore be zealous and repent. Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and dine with him, and he with Me. To him who overcomes I will grant to sit with Me on My throne, as I also overcame and sat down with My Father on His throne.

“He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.”

As instructed, our pastor read this letter aloud in our weekly worship. He read it in its entirety.

Christ at the Door, Knocking

William Holman Hunt

And so, we now know what the Risen Christ spoke to all of the seven churches. You should understand that we reviewed the letter carefully, analyzing just where we stand in comparison. As you no doubt know, some of the others were praised and some were called out. And most received both praise and criticism. Notably, ours is the only one to hear criticism alone. Frankly, we were shocked to receive any criticism, any at all!

And let me state to you, in your time, that, as we heard these criticisms of our church, our reaction was that it was an unfair picture of us. Yes, terribly unfair, and I will explain why. So please, read on.

In particular, we do not trumpet our wealth, although you might say that we are, in truth, a wealthy church. And, while we don’t publicly state that we “have need of nothing,” I will say that we are self-sufficient, depending on no one for charity. Actually, we give to the poor a sizable amount of money. Our generosity has been publicly praised by our city’s leaders, who take the money we give and distribute it among the poorer classes in Laodicea.

We study scripture. Most in our church can read and write, so that is a great blessing in our study. We practice the Lord’s Supper. And our pastor, who is an educated man, preaches to us with great insight. We sing hymns, led by a professional musician who is also popular at public events around our city. We’re justifiably proud of him.

At Easter time, we host a special dinner for poor families, who come to our church for a meal. We don’t actually join the meal, not wanting to embarrass them. And we reach out across the city to bring visitors into the church. For example, I have personally invited several of our city’s highest officials and business leaders.

So, you see, we are a strong fellowship, a respectable church, spreading the Gospel message just as we were called to do. We couldn’t see why anyone would call us out for our wealth, or claim that we “are neither cold nor hot.”

In fact, our pastor preaches that our material blessings are nothing less than signs of God’s favor and are our reward for our faith in him. Does that sound like “neither cold nor hot” to you?

There are other Christian communities in Laodicea. Personally, I know very little about them, except that, for the most part, they meet across the Lycus River in a part of town where I never visit, mostly because it is riddled with disease. That undesirable area, which is home to a large immigrant population, can also be dangerous, especially at night. Many languages are spoken there, and to me, a long-time resident of Laodicea, I don’t really feel comfortable in that area.

But as I said, we feel, in our fellowship, that we are confidently self-sufficient, depending on no one to support us. I mean, we have all the resources that we need, and we feel very blessed to be able to say that.

So, then, why did we receive the criticism in the letter? I mean, we can’t just dismiss it, can we? Can the words of the Risen Christ open us to thinking more deeply about who we are? Can there be some truth in his words, something that we should take to heart? What do you think?

We have worked hard to win the respect of Laodicea’s public leaders. Was that wrong? We were not accused of idol worship, as were some of the other churches mentioned in the letter. Isn’t that good enough? We don’t have a “Jezebel” as the church in Thyatira seems to have.

Nor do we have a “Satan’s throne” as does Pergamum. They, of course, have a true martyr, Antipas, to revere. Although we do not have such a figure, we can be proud of the leading citizens of Laodicea who have joined our fellowship. They are respected and so, along with them, are we.

We’re not plagued by false prophets as are the Ephesians, and like all of the churches, we deal with the cult of emperor worshipers. Mostly we ignore them, choosing not to confront them or their cousins, the worshipers of idols. We try to fit in to the broader culture here in Laodicea.

Yet, we alone among the seven churches were accused of being “wretched, miserable, poor, blind, and naked” and we were told “to buy from Me gold refined in the fire.” What does that even mean?

Perhaps in a way, I envy the church of Smyrna, which is suffering under great persecution. Could that be what the Risen Christ meant in his words about “gold refined in the fire?” We’ve been very successful in Laodicea to stay away from anything that might lead to persecution. Could some persecution and suffering serve as a fire which might refine us? Maybe, but please, not too much!

When I look at the other six churches, it seems that each one is struggling with something. It could be persecution, or it could be division, or it could be false prophets. But when I consider our church in Laodicea, I can’t think of any struggle at all. Could that be our problem? Could we have insulated ourselves so much that we face no challenges or struggles?

Our pastor seems at a loss to help us understand. To him, the words of the Risen Christ challenge much of his preaching, connecting our prosperity to our faith. Since the letter arrived, he has been absent, in retreat.

And as for me? Well, I am an elder in the church, and in fact, one of its founding members. People look to me for guidance and I must admit that I am wondering and searching, just like the rest. Clearly, we must take the criticism seriously.

The Risen Christ implores us to see what we’ve been missing. In a way, I fear that. Why? Because a clearer vision of our church just might reveal the truth of his words. And that would be painful to admit. We are, after all, a proud church.

He calls us to repent. And not just slightly. No, he calls us to repent with zeal. And so, we must. But how?

At least we can take comfort in these words: “As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten.“ For me, I need to hold on to those words. Because it means that Christ has not given up on us.

Perhaps, above it all, his words to us are his way of telling us that he is, as he says, standing at our door and knocking. It may be that we have been so absorbed with our wealth and our pride, that all this time, he’s been knocking, and we couldn’t hear him. Maybe it’s time for us to stop what are doing and just listen.

In that vein, I called together a committee of our elders. We met in the home of one of our leading members, hoping to understand and respond to the letter. After hours of discussion, including some anger expressed at the harsh criticism, we had gotten nowhere.

Finally, I called an end to our meeting. “Let’s adjourn and meet again in a week, after we’ve all had some time to sort things out” I said. “We all need to cool off anyway, and calmly approach this again. Surely, we have the resources to respond in just the right way.”

“You don’t need resources,” came a voice from the back of the room. “At least, you don’t need resources in the way that you are thinking. Maybe you should try a bit of humility.”

Humility? Stunned by these words, we all looked up. The voice came from one of the slaves of our host, who had been cleaning in an adjacent room while we met.

Some in our company rolled their eyes at the notion that we should ever listen to a slave, and others began to angrily complain. “Why are we listening to a common slave?” asked one of them, a prominent business leader in our city. But I held up my hand to quiet the room. “What do you mean?” I asked the slave.

“You are trying to respond to Christ’s criticism with the very means by which you were criticized, that is, your power and wealth. Don’t forget that Jesus was not wealthy, and that he had no resources at hand like you do. Unlike you, Jesus was humble. Maybe you might try humility for a change.”

“Go on,” I asked, even though listening to this person whose name we didn’t even know, was very irregular.

He went on: “You need to go where Jesus went, and where, I believe, he wants you to go now. Go across the river to the poor house churches on the other side of the city. Befriend them, help them and most of all, show the love of Christ to them. Rather than teaching them, let them be your teachers. After all, you may look down on those people, but truly, they are your brothers and sisters in Christ. As the Apostle Paul has written, together, you make up the church, the very Body of Christ.”

It didn’t take long for the wisdom of this slave to sink in to me. Were the words of this non-person actually the words of the Risen Christ, knocking at our door? I think perhaps they were. I, for one, was listening, though I knew that some in that room would never listen and that we might lose members if we followed this wisdom.

I don’t have the time in this letter to explain further how we responded, other than to say that it required a total change of heart for all of us. As you might imagine, it was not easy. Perhaps I will write to you another time and explain more.

So, let me ask you: in your time, as you read my letter, can you relate? I have no ability to imagine what the church may be like in your time. Perhaps you have learned how to correct all of the faults that we seem to be guilty of. I hope that is the case. But just in the event that you can relate to our situation, I hope that my honest assessment may be helpful to you.

Blessings to you from Laodicea in the first century! And pray for us as we seek to listen and open the door to the Risen Christ!