Background Passages: Revelation 3:14-22; Colossians 4:16-17
An old German joke tells of a young couple who adopted a baby. For the first five years of his life the little boy never said a word. Doctors told them there was no physical reason for his silence. Taking him to the psychotherapist also proved fruitless.
On his eighth birthday, the mother baked a lasagna, his favorite meal. After taking a bite, the boy said in perfect German, “Mother, this lasagna is a tad lukewarm.”
The parents were, of course, shocked that he suddenly spoke. “Why have you never said anything before?” they asked.
The boy replied, “Up to now, everything had been fine.”
I tend to agree with the boy. There is nothing fine about being lukewarm. Lukewarm food just isn’t as flavorful. Lukewarm water isn’t as refreshing. Even more seriously, being a lukewarm in our Christian walk is an affront to God.
This week’s Bible study is the last in my study of the seven churches in Revelation. The previous six of those seven churches did some things well. Each of the six fell short in one way or another. Jesus praised them for that which they did well and encouraged them to fix what was broken in their faith walk with God.
It seems clear that the Apostle Paul spent some time in ministry at Laodicea. Whether he founded it or not, a church grew in the thriving community. He wrote letters to the churches in Colossae and Laodicea asking them to exchange the communication they each received with one another. While we have the letter to the Colossians in our Bibles, the letter to the Laodiceans was lost to time.
Christian tradition says that the church in Laodicea flourished and grew initially, both in faith and numbers, drawing its members from the wealthy citizens of the city. However, the church that once prospered apparently lost its zeal.
Paul seemed to see the beginning of this downward slide when he asked the church in Colossae to remind Archippus, who some scholars say had pastoral ties to Laodicea, to “See to it that you complete the ministry you have received from the Lord.” (Colossians 4:16-17) Evidently, the minister and members had grown complacent amid their success.
Now, 30 years later in John’s writing of Revelation, Jesus offered a stern rebuke to the Laodicean church for failing to live up to the standard asked of them. They were lukewarm Christians in need of a wake up call.
“These are the words of the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the ruler of God’s creation. I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth.
“You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked. I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in the fire, so you can become rich; and white clothes to wear, so you can cover your shameful nakedness; and salve to put on your eyes, so you can see.
“Those whom I love I rebuke and discipline. So be earnest and repent. Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me.” (Revelation 3:14-20)
By his words, Jesus quickly establishes himself as the one with the authority to judge their behavior. He calls himself “the Amen, the faithful and true witness.” When we used “amen” at the end of a prayer, we’re saying, “let it be so,” “let it be truth.” Jesus is telling the Laodiceans, the word I am about to share with you is truth. I am witness to your behavior. What I say is beyond dispute.
His word is a harsh indictment of the vitality of their faith and the sincerity of their work.
“I know your deeds.”
The “ruler of God’s creation” as he is described in verse 14, knows exactly where their hearts are. He sees the work they are doing and finds nothing refreshing in their relationships with others… nothing comforting in their deeds. He says, “…you are neither cold nor hot.”
It was a phrase the Laodiceans would have clearly understood. The city was built on a plateau. As such it had no natural water source. Because of the importance of the city along major trade routes, the Romans supplied the city with water via a series of aqueducts from hot springs of Hierapolis, just across the Lycea River, and the cold springs of Colossae about six miles away.
By the time the water arrived from these two cities, the hot water became tepid. The cold water grew lukewarm. The hot water was no longer physically soothing. The cold water no longer refreshing.
Such was the nature of the Laodicean church. Their service to their community brought no comfort to others. Their words lacked meaning and no longer refreshed the hearts of those who were hurting.
Though he wishes they were hot or cold, Jesus finds them a disgusting lukewarm at best. Tepid in their love for others and their service to those in need.
“Because you are lukewarm, I am about to spit you out of my mouth.”
The problem in the church might have been born from the independence of the city itself. Laodicea was among the wealthiest and most self-sufficient cities in the Roman world. In AD 60, an earthquake devastated Laodicea and the region surrounding it. When the Caesar’s government offered financial assistance to rebuild the city, Laodicea refused the help. Wealthy enough to rebuild on their own, they wanted no help from anyone else.
Jesus alluded to as much in his condemnation of the church when he quoted their own words. “You say ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’”
Perhaps the early success of the church, its growth in numbers and prosperity, cause it to trust its own ability rather than to depend upon God. As a result, they went through the motions of being God’s church, but they did not make God a part of their work. There was no passion for sharing the gospel. No desire to comfort the hurting. They grew comfortable in their own fellowship, content to stay behind their own walls rather than share the good news of Christ’s love.
Laodicea was noted for its financial institutions, its textile manufacturing and for its medicinal eye salve it produced. Jesus alludes to all three of these things in his words of advice.
“Buy from me gold refined in the fire so you will become rich. Buy white clothes to wear so you can cover your shameful nakedness. Buy salve to put on your eyes so you can see.”
The self-sufficient church in Laodicea lost its way. It lost its faith and needed it to be refined in purity again, placing their trust in God alone. The spiritually naked church needed to cloth itself in righteousness, taking on the character of Christ. The church in Laodicea grew blind to its own spiritual poverty and shame. They could not see their own sin nor did they wish to open their eyes to the possibility that they were not doing what God required of them. They needed to treat their eyes so they could see again the work God had for them.
As Shakespeare would say, “There’s the rub.” I look at the Laodicea church and see myself as a member. Proudly self-sufficient. Believing I can do all things on my own. Thinking that I’ll save God for the major things in life, times when I need him most. I can handle the rest without his help.
We are told throughout scripture that we are to become more like Christ every day. That God desires us to be in right relationship with him. Righteous in our character and our actions. It’s not something I do well every day.
Though there is always a part of me that knows I’m growing distant from God and not living the life he asks of me, I sometimes prefer being blind to that truth. When I refuse to see my own sin as that big a deal, it erodes the very foundation upon which my faith in Christ is built.
Like the folks in the church in Laodicea, I go through the motions of my faith without passion for Christ and without really touching anyone’s life for Christ.
Biblical scholar William Barclay wrote, “The one attitude the Risen Christ unsparingly condemns is indifference.” When Christ matters to us less than our pocketbooks, when the hurts of others matter less to us than our own needs, our faith becomes irrelevant…a lukewarm manifestation of God in us with little ability to restore or refresh.
The Old Testament prophet Hosea used several colorful comments to point out the unhealthy state of Israel’s relationship with God during the reign of Jeroboam II. In Hosea 7:8 he said, “Ephraim is a cake not turned.” In other words, Israel’s faith is half-baked. Lukewarm.
I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be seen by God or anyone else as a half-baked, lukewarm Christian. So, I look at the words Jesus shared with the church at Laodicea and take note. He told them, “Be earnest and repent.”
When I find myself lacking passion for my faith, when my life is anything but refreshing and restoring, I need to earnestly approach the throne of grace seeking forgiveness for relying on my own wisdom rather than the wisdom of “the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the rule of God’s creation.” I must turn from my own self-sufficiency and put my trust in his will and way. While that’s easier said than done, it is the only way to get back to living in right relationship with him and with others.
The really neat thing is that even if my indifference and apathy drives Jesus to the point of wanting to vomit me from his mouth, he will never give up on me. He will convict me of my sin because he loves me. He will allow me to suffer the consequences of my sin as his loving discipline…to teach me how he wants me to live. And when I am honest in my desire to turn back to him, he stands ready to forgive my failings and put me on the right path.
“Here I am!” Jesus told the Laodiceans as he tells me. “I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and he with me.”
Forgiveness. Grace. Relationship. That’s what he offers everyone. All I must do is open the door and yield my life complete to him.
Ezra Taft Benson, the secretary of the United States Department of Agriculture during the Eisenhower administration, once spoke about the Bible’s greatest commandment. He said, “To love God with all your heart, all your mind, all your soul and all your strength is all-consuming and all-encompassing. It is no lukewarm endeavor.”
I don’t know where you are in your walk with Christ. All I know is that sitting comfortably in the tepid waters of a lukewarm faith, does nothing for you and nothing for the kingdom of God. My desire for you is the same as what I desire for myself…That our faith be hot enough to heal those who are hurting spiritually and cold enough to refresh the thirstiest of those whom God loves so deeply.
Amen