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.
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.
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