The Word of God is always subversive—which is to say that the Word of God will continuously surprise and produce awe in us. Revelation 3:14–22, though well-known, is an odd passage. Why, for instance, are chapters 2–3 of Revelation, the messages to the seven churches, included in this apocalyptic material? What exactly do we find in chapters 2–3, and how are they relevant for the following chapters? The content of 3:14–22 is also odd. It is the climax of the seven messages, and it is the most negative of the seven. John has nothing positive to say about the church in Laodicea. Still, the second half of the message is asymmetrically hopeful compared to the other messages.
For several reasons, then, these passages are odd, and they may subvert our expectations. What can we learn from them that might be essential for the church today? As we begin, reading chapters 2–3 in the context of chapter 4 can help illumine us here.
God Is the One in Control
The point of an Apocalypse in ancient times was to address the question, “Who exactly is the one in control?” For this reason, as John is being lifted to the heavens in chapter 4, a Jewish reader might expect to see God dwelling in a temple scene. That is not what we find. Instead, John sees a throne surrounded by 24 enthroned elders. The first audience would likely recognize this scene to be referencing the Roman Imperial Court.
We know from archeological evidence that the audience would know roughly what to expect in such a court scene: a throne, imperial advisors, and local kings and rulers bowing down to the one on the throne. The impression of an imperial court is reinforced in 4:11a. The people are praising the one on the throne, saying “You are worthy, our Lord and God.” The phrase “our Lord and God” may be common to us, though it was not as common in the first century. In the New Testament, you do not find the phrase appearing anywhere else. Why does that particular phrase appear here, in 4:11a? On coins archeologists have found in Asia Minor, we find the phrase “our Lord and God” referring to Domitian. The first readers, then, might well expect the one on the throne to be Domitian, the one persecuting the church at the time of the writing of this Apocalypse.
Then we read verse 11b, and the audience realizes that this court is not worshiping Domitian.“For you created all things,” the worshippers say. Not even a Roman emperor was willing to claim to be the creator of all. Despite the setting of an imperial courtroom, only here do we realize that the one sitting on the throne is not the Emperor Domitian, but God himself, our creator and sovereign Lord. This is important for the audience. It is odd, surprising, and subversive; our eyes are being opened to see a different reality, and we realize God is the one in control. He is our creator. He is the one sitting on the throne.
By definition, apocalyptic writing reveals what we cannot see with our naked eyes. Even in this Roman Imperial Court setting, God is the one worthy of worship and praise. He is the one sitting on the throne; he is the one in control. An article in Forbes Magazine noted that in 2022, one in seven Christians was persecuted or discriminated against politically, socially, or economically. In the midst of the chaotic post-COVID world, we recognize that we have not simply gone back to “normal.” Every day, the chaotic forces try to convince us that God is not in control. Through the eyes of faith, even in the midst of chaos, we worship the One who is truly in control.
God Is the One Who Knows
How do chapters 2–3 fit within the apocalyptic material of chapter 4 and beyond? In 2:1, the author of the messages is identified: “These are the words of him who holds the seven stars in his right hand and walks among the seven golden lampstands.” It is as if the author is saying, “I am the one in control.” After the one in control identifies himself, he says something striking in 2:2a, “I know your deeds.” This “knowing formula” will repeat in each of the messages to the seven churches. In 2:9, he says, “I know your afflictions and your poverty.” Again, in 2:13, “I know where you live.” This repeats several times. After this “knowing formula” is pronounced, you then find a narrative about each church: “I know that you have been evil” or “I know you have been holy.” Finally, you have either a reward or a threat: “Repent, otherwise . . . .”
My father escaped from a Communist regime, taking the last boat out of that country in 1949. He came to the United States, studied, and was ordained a minister of the gospel. Finally, he returned to Asia after 10 years without contacting anyone from his past life there. On the first week of arrival, however, he received a letter from someone in his Communist home country sent to his new address, letting him know in no uncertain terms, “We know exactly where you live.” We can imagine how threatening this would feel! Likewise, in the first century, if you received a letter or an edict demonstrating that your ruler knew precisely what was occurring in your local community, then you knew exactly who was in control, and you knew to behave accordingly.
In what genre of text would you expect to find these features: an identification of the one in control, a “knowing formula,” and a threat or offer of reward? Some scholars argue these are found in imperial edicts. If chapters 2–3 are referencing imperial edicts, then they fit nicely with the imperial courtroom scene from chapter 4. In each of the seven messages, you find plenty of local references meant to convince the audience that, indeed, God is the one who knows. He is the one in control. He alone is the one able to write edicts of pronouncement to the churches.
We Must Repent First
It is unusual to find this sort of prophetic self-critique in apocalyptic material. Jewish apocalypses do not typically start by criticizing God’s own people. They start by criticizing the pagans, those hostile to the community. Yet, in the midst of chaos, suffering, and oppression, John criticizes the church first before moving on to chapters 4–5. Before the battle against the forces of evil begins, John questions the whole notion of the “holy people of God.” John reminds us here that evil can reside in us as well. Before we assume, in chapters 4 and beyond, that we are on the side of justice and of God, John asks in chapters 2–3: “Are you on the right side of the battle? Look at yourself. Who exactly are you? Are you the holy and righteous people of God? Are you fighting for God? Or not?”
Evil resides even in us and in our churches. We are not only fighting against the “other” evil one but against ourselves as well. We need to repent before we can claim to be fighting against the hostile world, recognizing that God is the one in control. He is going to reveal the sins of Babylon in chapter 18, but he revealed our sins first in chapters 2–3, knowing that we need to be ready to accept the presence of the Holy One.
Usefulness to God
We noted in the first section that the message to the church in Laodicea is especially negative. What is the crux of the accusation against them? Interpreters have often emphasized the problem described in verse 15—those in this church are “lukewarm.” Though this is often assumed to mean that the church lacked an enthusiastic response to the gospel, this is not likely the case. We are told John would prefer the church to be cold rather than lukewarm. Instead, perhaps the church is accused here of not being “useful.” There is no good use for lukewarm water. The Greek philosopher-historian Xenophon wrote that cold water is good for drinking, and warm water is good for washing, but lukewarm water is not good for anything. Galen, the medical writer in the second century, makes a similar affirmation. Lukewarm water, he says, is only good for inducing vomiting. This is not pleasant imagery. Some scholars also point to the existence of a cold spring in Colossae and a hot spring in Hierapolis, two cities neighboring Laodicea. In Laodicea, you find neither. So, this could again be a local reference. God is the one who knows. God is the one in control.
If the problem is uselessness, what is the solution? Perhaps it is simply “be useful!” The criticism of 3:15–17 is followed by the counsel, “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.”
The Imperfect Are Called to Fight for God
It is striking that despite the harsh indictment of the first half of the message to the church at Laodicea, this counsel is immediately followed by an intense focus on future victory. In every other message, there is a call to repent, followed by a threat. For example, see 2:5 to the church in Ephesus: “Consider how far you have fallen! Repent and do the things you did at first. If you do not repent, I will come to you and remove your lampstand from its place.” There is no such threat in the passage to the church in Laodicea. Instead, there is a rather hopeful scene and a promise of reward. “Those whom I love I rebuke and discipline. So be earnest and repent. . . .To the one who is victorious, I will give the right to sit with me on my throne.”
Jesus, the head of the church, does not desire that we be destroyed. The point of calling the church to repentance is so that we can be useful instruments. It is true we are not worthy of this high calling. There is evil in us, and we are called to repent. Yet, in a great subversion, he decided to choose the Laodiceans, those in Sardis, and the rest of the churches to fight for him. In the midst of chaos, he calls the poor, the sinful, and the lukewarm to fight for him. In chapter 19, the victorious One sitting on the horse is the Word of God. Our proclamation is the Word of God. This Word will win the war through us, the impotent people of God. If we remain faithful, perhaps we can be useful instruments for him in the battle. Are we willing to do so?
