A Letter to the Satisfied Church

There is little that could be seen as positive in Jesus' message to the church at Laodicea. The indifference he saw there, ultimately toward himself, was a deal breaker. Really, the only positive note sounded was that the litany of rebuke directed at the Laodicean Christians was motivated by love. They were not being written off, but were being warned about what could happen if they did not repent.

The indifference of the Laodicean Christians is alluded to metaphorically in terms of the [water] temperature their deeds betrayed. Significant, perhaps, in directing this criticism at the Laodiceans in particular, was the well known sources of hot (Heiropolis/Pamukkale) and cold (Colossae/Honaz) water a short distance to the north and southeast of the city. Whereas there were good, obvious uses for hot or cold water, tepid water was all but useless, as the Laodiceans could well attest. In calling these Christians lukewarm, Jesus was indicting their uselessness which resulted from their indifference toward him.

How did they get to be in such a careless state? The reason implied in the message was that their satisfaction with earthly wealth had blinded them to their spiritual poverty. Laodicea had experienced a devasting earthquake in 60 C.E. and was knocked virtually flat. The wealth of the city was such that its inhabitants rebuilt it without government assistance, recovered relatively quickly and continued their prosperous ways afterward.

It seems the Laodicean church could have been interpreting that history as a sign that they were blessed by God and just fine in his sight. They were mistaken. They did not remember that we cannot serve God and mammon, for if we serve the latter we'll end up despising the former, and be useless to him. As Jesus saw it, they actually wretched, miserable, poor, blind and naked.

Jesus counsels them to come to him and engage with him (i.e. "buy from him") rather than to be satisfied with the bounty they got by their own devices--a rather ironic command considering he just said they were wretched and poor. The gold, garments and salve they were able to procure pursuing their own worldly agenda was actually not a sign of blessing but merely the wallpaper over the pits and cracks of their profound need. Though tangible, the earthy is no substitute for the spiritual, and when one has that aright, there is no need for wallpaper.

I can't help but see, in this letter, a dire warning to the Western Church, first as it existed in Europe and now as it does in America. That church, in large measure, discovered a marketability in the Gospel and has been producing a wealth-generating, product-oriented salve for the guilty consumer for much of its history. Whether depending on a few rituals (e.g. mass, baptism, confession) or a few works (e.g. church attendance, tithing) or just grace, this church sells the convenience of a guilt suppressing palliative, without the necessity of taking up the cross and walking with Christ.

If salt has lost its saltiness it's good for nothing; if living water is not different from the world around it (for instance, in temperature), even it is useless. If those of the Laodicean ilk, useless to Christ, indifferent and thereby in peril, can but open their eyes and remember that they are nothing, and have nothing without Christ, their recovery begins. The world and its riches offer nothing of true value to any of us that we should find it satisfying. Jesus has all we need, and all that is worthy, and he's willing to give that to us if we'll come to him.

So what did Jesus mean by calling himself the beginning of God's creation? The Koine word arche  could refer to a preeminence in time (i.e. "beginning" as in many English translations) or preeminence in rank (i.e. "ruler" as in the NIV). Though "the Beginning" is an important titular designation for Christ in the Revelation, when it is used as such, it is always coupled with "the end", and within the immediate context of the letters the parallel designation, "first and last", is used (on a related note, see this). Given these considerations, and the fact that Christ's authority is the general theme of all his introductions in the letters, I think that "ruler" is the preferred sense in which the word is used here as is attested by the choice of NIV translators.

What I think is undoubtedly not  meant by the use of arche is that Christ was the first creation of God as heretical movements past and present have asserted (e.g. Arianism, Jehovah's Witnesses). Even if it may be that the Son is "eternally generated", he is not created--he is, in fact, part of the nature of the Godhead. God is Father, Son and Holy Spirit, which is what he always was and will be always what he is. There is distinctiveness within the Godhead, but always unity as well, and even though there is no way to tell the divinity of one member apart from the other two, it is always possible to tell their personhood apart.

Despite my earlier statements, there was at least one use for lukewarm water commonly held in the day of John the Revelator. Even today, particularly in home remedies, tepid water can be used as an emetic in conjunction with salt or mustard or a finger to the back of the throat. So it was particularly fitting that Jesus threatened to spew the Laodiceans out of his mouth. When we consider that the word translated spew doesn't mean merely to spit, but instead to vomit, we see the clarity and fittingness with which Christ expressed his disapproval of these folks for their indifference.

"Be zealous and repent" was the response Jesus called for to his rebuke. The word translated zealous (zeleue) means to boil with fervent passion, as in jealousy or desire. That, of course, plays upon his earlier statement that the Laodiceans were neither hot (zestos) nor cold. The issue there was not their temperature but their usefulness: cold water was useful for refreshment, hot water for baths and washing, lukewarm water was good for nothing (except a purgative). In this rebuke Jesus tossed aside the idea of refreshing (cold water) because the Laodiceans did not need refreshment--they needed to be passionate in action (heat).

If there ever was an antithesis to Jesus' key authority, "Behold I stand at the door and knock," would be it! Despite the use of this text in evangelistic tracts and presentations, this text actually has nothing to do with evangelism (an appeal to the unsaved) because it was written to the church. Nonetheless, it does fly in the face of both the concepts of irresistible grace and the perseverance of the saints. After all, Jesus isn't just unlocking the door because he's made an election by predetermination, but he's making an honest invitation for which the implication is that it could be accepted or it could be turned down. 

Those who open that door get to dine with Christ, and those repentant souls who overcome get sit down with Christ on his throne. Truly, his rebukes, even if seemingly harsh, come from love.

A Letter to the Rapture-Ready Church

In the message Jesus sent to the church in Philadelphia, we see one of only two purely positive messages of those he sent to the seven churches. Although the deeds of the Philadelphians are known by him, no correction ensues and no threat follows, only a hopeful promise. Taken together, I think the commendations and rebukes in the Letters to the Churches demonstrate that works do make a difference in how Christ reacts to those who are known by his name. We can infer, thereby, that grace is not something that ignores evidence that reveals that a heart has faith in name only (see James 2:14-26).

For those whose faith is true, Jesus promises to use his key authority to their benefit. He gives a two-fold metric to understand his judgment in the matter: 1) the faithful guard (in the sense that they observe or keep) his word, and 2) the faithful do not deny (disavow or repudiate) his name. In the case of the Philadelphians, both are done in spite of the lack of great ability (dunamis). For the non-charismatic that would probably be taken another way, but for those of us who are charismatic, we could see this as referring to a relative lack of miraculous, spiritual power. Perhaps that is encouraging news to those living in an age where our affirmation for fabulous signs and wonders far outstrips their actual occurrence.

The open door cannot refer to opportunities for gospel work (as so many commentators aver), for that would be a far too pedestrian use of Jesus' keys--particularly since the benefactors experience a lack of power as well as opposition in this world. The open door, therefore, must refer to something in regard to which Christ has unique authority (since none can close what he opens by it). Since these letters have been filled with so many warnings about the things of Christ being closed off to some, context would demand (it seems to me), to see this in regard to all that Christ has been promising by his authority in the midst of these letters. What others written to are shut out from, the Philadelphians are allowed in to.

It is implied in Christ's message to their church, that the faithful Philadelphians were taking some kind of flak from the so-called Synogogue of Satan. That, along with the reference to the Key of David, puts a markedly Jewish spin on this message. That emphasis does not make much sense to me on the basis of anything that occurred in history since the Apocalypse's writing, nor in terms of a framework of historical epochs as some try to apply to these letters. The detail must be significant nonetheless. It is ironic that those of that persuasion (Judaizers, perhaps) were the ones in fact, who will find themselves ostracized by the one who has the Davidic key.

Admittedly, this is an apparent stretch, but this could be referring to a revival of Jewish resistance to the spread of Christianity among the Jews which would occur near the time of the Rapture. We are seeing something akin to that in our own day in the continuing efforts being made in Israel to quell proselytizing among the Jewish population, particularly by Messianic Jews. If so, it will prove to be merely a last ditch effort that will be overwhelmed by the turn of events at the Rapture and God's subsequent redemptive turn toward Israel. I think that could reasonably be described in the terms of the message: "I will make them come and bow down at your feet, and make them know that I have loved you."

Despite that, and whatever other trials they had to get through, the Philadelphians kept Jesus' word of perseverance. The thought conveyed is waiting patiently under command, like the person asked to stay behind for a straggler when the youth group heads out to an event. That Jesus' command to endure (as recorded elsewhere) has eschatological implications cannot be denied--the reference in this letter in conjunction with the promise of escape (rapture) can only underscore the end-times emphasis. What context, other than the end-times, is there for the all-inclusive, global trial mentioned? 

It is very difficult to find a context historically which could have justifiably the description of a "global trial" applied to it. The words used to convey the notion of global testing (tou peirasmou [the testing] and peirasai [to test]) are somewhat ambivalent in meaning. They can refer to temptation (as in an enticement), or to trial (as in an assaying pressure), or to both at the same time. The use of the definite article (tou) is supportive in understanding this phrase as referring to a specific testing or temptation, rather than to testing or temptation in general; i.e. the trial. What is in mind in this message, it seems to me, is a singular kind of testing, the scope and nature of which is such that it will leave no doubt that it is occurring when it does occur.

The test will come upon all the inhabited earth to try those that dwell there. Whereas it is possible to see this as an idiomatic reference to the Roman Empire, I see this more along the lines of a Hebraism (e.g. Exodus 8:21) or just straightforwardly referring to the entire world (as does the word's usage in Acts 17:31 or Hebrews 1:6). The inclusivity of the statement means that anyone on earth at that time will experience the trial, at least in some fashion. One would have to not be living on earth to be kept [out] from such a trial, which I think is the best reading of the promise contained: "I also will keep you from the hour of testing..."

Whereas Chapter 7 of the Apocalypse (and Chapter 12 too) does demonstrate that it is possible to live through the trial on earth protected by God in the midst of it, it also reveals (as does Chapter 12) that for the largest proportion of believers, escape means removal from the scene. 1 Thessalonians 4:15-17 describes the escape in as great a detail as we have in all of scripture. Taken together the picture clarifies. A trial, so significant and singular in nature as to be unmistakable, will come upon the entire earth, but those believers, Philadelphian in character, will be kept from that trial by God taking them out from the earth. Rapture!

It is clear to me that the Church in Philadelphia is ultimately a symbol for the church extant and ready when the end comes with its trial of trials. Since it is my belief that the churches which were sent these messages are contemporaneous and representative of different types of the whole, all the churches will be there at the end. However, it is to the church in Philadelphia--the ready church--that promise rather than warning is issued. Those that embrace the promise of removal and overcome get to be with God always, like pillars in his Temple. But even though the letter to the church in Philadelphia is particularly a message to the end-times Church, its message would have been inspirational to any church at any time being stretched by the need to endure under pressure.