Self-awareness and self-knowledge are crucial ingredients in spiritual growth, enabling transformation into the likeness of Christ. Without this willingness to be radically honest with ourselves, we will always be in danger of self-deceit, thinking we are better than we really are.

The church in Laodicea is remembered because of its lukewarmness, but that complacency was the result of a lack of understanding of their true condition (v 17). It was a prosperous and successful place, and the church there was a smart and wealthy one, but without any sense of need. Instead, it prided itself on being self-sufficient.

Out of his love, Jesus says he will discipline the church, probably by allowing the fires of adversity to purify them of their pride and reveal to them their deep need of him (v 19). Self-knowledge often only comes through suffering and trial. It is when we are broken that we can best see our need of Jesus (v 20). 

Afflictions serve a purpose in our lives, that of humbling us and making us aware of our true condition. Fortunately, the grace of God is such that he welcomes us as we are and builds us up again. 

Holy Spirit, help us to hear what you are saying to the churches today. Amen.

This final letter in the series is probably the best known, partly because the ‘lukewarm’ condition of the church at Laodicea (v 16) sets it apart from the rest and partly because the image of Christ standing outside the assembly seeking admission has inspired preachers, theologians and artists, most notably in Holman Hunt’s painting The Light of the World.  

Once again the description of the church is contextually relevant, because the city experienced problems with its water supply. Attempts were made to pipe water from the nearby Hierapolis, which was famous for the healing qualities of its hot springs, but by the time the supply reached Laodicea the water was tepid and polluted, making it literally nauseating. Spiritually, the church mirrors the problem of its city, but its condition is even worse than that at Sardis since not only is it deluded as to its state, but it is also boastful and arrogant in its acquired wealth.

The extreme nature of the Laodicean malaise makes it easy to dismiss its relevance to churches known to us, but consider the reaction of Harry Maier, who says that the only way in which he can read the book of Revelation is as a Laodicean: ‘For where is a first world white male of privilege to find himself described in the Apocalypse if not in this seventh message – rich, not needing anything, neither hot nor cold, but lukewarm – the typical citizen of a reigning order that keeps the majority of the planet’s inhabitants in servitude to furnish me with my comforts?’¹ Perhaps we should be grateful that Jesus is still knocking at the door; God give us ears to hear him and respond.  

Take time to review what you have learned from these seven letters and what you intend to do as a result.

¹ Harry O Maier, Apocalypse Recalled: The Book of Revelation After Christendom, Fortress Press, 2002, p38