Meadowbrooke Church
Podcast for Meadowbrooke Church
Season 1 - Identity (Ephesians)
Season 2 - Christians Say the Darnedest Things - Season 2
Season 3 - The Shepherd (Psalm 23)
Season 4 - Faith & Works (James)
Season 5 - Guest Speakers
Season 6 - The Tree
Season 7 - Unassigned
Season 8 - Revelation
Episodes

Sunday Mar 29, 2026
Sunday Mar 29, 2026
I want to read you some quotes from some theologians and authors that you could have found or may even still be able to find in your local Christian books store:
Bob Wilkin: “One can be a believer in the Lord Jesus Christ and yet not be a disciple.”
Jesus: “You have abandoned the love you had at first.” (Rev. 2:4)
Joel Osteen: “God wants to increase you financially, by giving you promotions, fresh ideas, and creativity.”
Jesus: “Be faithful onto death, and I will give you the crown of life.” (2:10)
Robert Schuller: “Sin is any act or thought that robs myself or another human being of his or her self-esteem.”
Jesus: “You have some there who hold the teaching of Balaam...” (2:14)
Joseph Dillow: “A Christian can be carnal, even persistently so, and still be saved.”
Jesus: “You tolerate that woman Jezebel...” (2:20)
Joseph Prince: “The bottom line is that the Holy Spirit never convicts you of your sins. He NEVER comes to point out your faults.”
Jesus: “You have the reputation of being alive, but you are dead.” (3:1)
Kenneth Copeland: “God’s will is for you to prosper in every way—spiritually, physically, and financially.”
Jesus: “You have but little power, and yet you have kept my word.” (3:8)
Norman Vincent Peale: “Believe in yourself! Have faith in your abilities! Without a humble but reasonable confidence in your own powers you cannot be successful or happy.”
Jesus: “You say, ‘I am rich... I need nothing,’ not realizing that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked.”
With each of the seven letters, Jesus repeats the same four words: “The one who conquers...” And then he follows up those words with some promises:
“The one who conquers… I will grant to eat of the tree of life, which is in the paradise of God” (Rev. 2:7).
“The one who conquers… I will give you the crown of life, and you will not be hurt by the second death” (Rev. 2:10–11).
“The one who conquers… I will give some of the hidden manna, and I will give him a white stone, with a new name written on the stone” (Rev. 2:17).
“The one who conquers… “I will give authority over the nations, and I will give him the morning star” (Rev. 2:26–28).
“The one who conquers… will be clothed in white garments, and I will never blot his name out of the book of life, but I will confess his name before my Father and before his angels” (Rev. 3:5).
“The one who conquers… I will make him a pillar in the temple of my God, and I will write on him the name of my God and my own new name” (Rev. 3:12).
“The one who conquers… I will grant him to sit with me on my throne” (Rev. 3:21).
As you may know, the title of this sermon series captures the central theme of the book of Revelation—a theme that can be summarized in a single word: Triumphant. But what does it mean to be triumphant? Jesus answers that question with four simple words: “the one who conquers.” So, the two questions before us this morning are: 1) What does it mean to “conquer”? and 2) What is promised to those who conquer?
What does it Mean to Conquer?
Let me begin by explaining what our Lord does not mean by these four words. Conquering does not mean that saying a prayer or repeating what is often called “the sinner’s prayer” guarantees salvation. It does not mean that God will prosper you financially or physically. It does not mean that your self-esteem will remain untouched. It does not mean that becoming a “Christian” allows you to live with unrepentant sin without fear. It does not mean that you can be wrong about Jesus without consequence. It does not mean that you will be free from suffering in this life. And it certainly does not mean that you can rely on your own strength.
So, what then does it mean to conquer?
If our time in Revelation has not made this clear enough, let me point you to a verse that stands at the very center of John’s apocalyptic masterpiece—a verse that captures the theme of the entire book: “And they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, for they loved not their lives even unto death” (Rev. 12:11, ESV). The Berean Standard Bible puts it this way: “They have conquered by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony. And they did not love their lives so as to shy away from death.”
Who did they conquer? They conquered the great dragon—Satan himself—who is called the deceiver and the father of lies. The apostle Paul speaks of this same reality in Romans 16:20: “The God of peace will soon crush Satan under your feet.”
But how is this possible?
It is possible, first and foremost, because of what Jesus accomplished through the incarnation. The eternal Son of God—fully God from all eternity—became fully man, being born of a virgin. He entered our world for this purpose: to accomplish redemption, to secure the forgiveness of sins, and to bring about the final defeat of sin, Satan, and death. However, the way Jesus secured the victory was not the way His disciples—or anyone else—envisioned it.
When Jesus entered Jerusalem for the final week before His crucifixion, He did so riding on a colt while the crowds spread their cloaks and palm branches on the road ahead of Him. They shouted: “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David! Hosanna in the highest!” (see Mark 11:1-10). The crowds rightly believed they were welcoming the promised King, but by the end of the week, some of their voices would fall silent while others would cry out, “Crucify Him!” (Mark 15:12-13).
Why? Because they misunderstood why Jesus came. They misunderstood what it meant for Him to conquer.
The crowds believed their greatest need was for the promised King to overthrow Rome. In their minds, there was no greater tyrant than the Roman Empire. But what they failed to see was that a far greater tyrant ruled over them—their own sin. Their greatest need was not political deliverance, but reconciliation to a holy God, because their sin demanded His righteous wrath.
They had celebrated the Passover year after year, but they missed what it pointed to. That feast was never an end in itself—it was a signpost. It pointed beyond itself to a true and better Lamb—the Lamb of God—who would take away the sin of the world. Jesus was clear about how He would conquer, but because the crowds could not see past Rome, a suffering Messiah was not on their radar. Even His disciples struggled to understand that the Lamb of God had to suffer and die by way of the cross before there would ever be the Crown. Isaiah 53 prophesied long ago:
He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth.... Yet it was the will of the Lord to crush him; he has put him to grief; when his soul makes an offering for guilt, he shall see his offspring; he shall prolong his days; the will of the Lord shall prosper in his hand.
Jesus spoke plainly that this is what He came to do. On the way to Jerusalem shortly before Palm Sunday, He could not have been clearer: “See, we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be delivered over to the chief priests and the scribes, and they will condemn him to death and deliver him over to the Gentiles. And they will mock him and spit on him, and flog him and kill him. And after three days he will rise” (Mark 10:33-34).
Jesus conquered by living the sinless life we could never live and by dying the death under the wrath of God that we all deserved. He did not conquer by taking the lives of His enemies, but by giving His life to reconcile sinners to God. The Lion of the tribe of Judah has conquered—but He conquered as the Lamb who was slain (see Rev. 5:5–6). This is why all of heaven rejoices: “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing!” (Rev. 5:12).
So how do we conquer? The answer is found in the very verse we just read: “And they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, for they loved not their lives even unto death” (Rev. 12:11). Do not miss what this verse is saying! It does not describe a different kind of victory than the one Jesus secured, but shows that we conquer by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of our testimony.
First, we conquer “by the blood of the Lamb.” Our victory is not based on our strength or effort, but entirely on what Jesus has already accomplished. The victory was won at the cross—not by us, but for us. Just as we are saved by Christ alone, we conquer by trusting that what He did was enough and that His righteousness is all we need.
Second, we conquer “by the word of our testimony.” In the book of Revelation, our testimony includes not only what we say but also the way we live in light of what we believe about Jesus. To confess Jesus as both Lord and Savior means living our lives based on that conviction, regardless of the cost. The word of our testimony is standing firm—refusing to compromise, refusing to bow before idols, and refusing to remain silent when the world demands our allegiance over Jesus.
Third, we conquer by “not loving our lives so as to shy away from death (BSB).” To conquer is not to avoid suffering, but to remain faithful through it. To conquer is to value Christ above comfort, above safety, and even above life itself. The world says, “Preserve your life at all costs.” But Jesus says, “Whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” (Matt. 16:25).
I believe that when we consider these three things and apply them to our lives, we will regain the love we have abandoned, face suffering while holding onto hope, strengthen our resistance to compromise, see the emptiness of sexual sin, and care less about what others think of us. We will be less impressed by the powers of this world, and we will find ourselves more drawn to abide in Jesus as the source of our satisfaction and joy.
And this is where everything begins to come into focus. Because if this is what it means to conquer—if conquering means trusting in the blood of the Lamb, holding fast to our testimony, and remaining faithful even unto death—then we must ask: what is promised to those who conquer?
What is Promised to Those Who Conquer?
Before we examine what is promised to those who conquer, let me show you something you might not have noticed before. Often, Revelation 2–3 is treated separately from the rest of the book, but remember what I shared with you at the start of this series about how I believe Revelation is structured. Do you remember the chart I showed you in my first sermon? If you’ve forgotten, let me show it to you again.
There are seven vantage points through which John’s apocalypse is structured, each looking forward to the promise of a resurrected and renewed heaven and earth. Each of these vantage points—whether it is the churches, the seals, the trumpets, or the bowls—is not telling a different story, but the same story from different angles. They all move toward the same goal: Revelation 21 and 22—the new heaven and the new earth.
Every cycle in Revelation is pulling us toward the same promise: that God will bring His people all the way home. This is where it all comes together, because the promises Jesus gives to those who conquer in Revelation 2 and 3 are the very realities we see fulfilled at the end of the book.
In closing, let me show you what it is that we are promised and how Revelation 2–3 points us to the inheritance that is ours in Jesus.
To the one who conquers, He promises access to the tree of life (Rev. 2:7)—a promise fulfilled when we see that tree again in the new creation (Rev. 22:2). To the one who conquers, He promises that they will not be hurt by the second death (Rev. 2:11)—a reality confirmed when death itself is finally destroyed (Rev. 20:14; 21:8).
He also promises hidden manna (Rev. 2:17)—true and lasting satisfaction in God's presence; authority to reign with Him (Rev. 2:26–28)—a promise fulfilled when the saints reign forever and ever (Rev. 22:5); and white garments (Rev. 3:5)—symbolizing purity, victory, and belonging, again seen in the glory of the redeemed (Rev. 22:14).
And more still: to the one who conquers, He promises that they will be a pillar in the temple of God (Rev. 3:12)—a permanent place in His presence, where they will never go out again; and that they will sit with Him on His throne (Rev. 3:21)—sharing in His rule, in His kingdom, forever.
Do you see how every promise made to those who conquer is fully fulfilled at the end of Revelation? This fulfillment is not due to our strength, but because the Lamb has conquered on our behalf. Those who follow the Lamb may be stripped of everything this world offers—status, possessions, even life itself—but in Christ, they gain everything. Their inheritance is nothing less than the fullness of God’s kingdom, eternal life, and everlasting joy. What is lost here pales in comparison to the glory that awaits; in Christ, they become heirs of all things.

Sunday Mar 22, 2026
Sunday Mar 22, 2026
In the ancient world, few cities were as impressive as Laodicea. It was a place of wealth, influence, and self-made success. Known for its thriving textile industry, its production of luxurious black wool, and its advanced medical practices, Laodicea stood as a symbol of prosperity. When disaster struck with a devastating earthquake, the city famously refused outside help and rebuilt on its own. Independence was not just a necessity—it was a point of pride. By all outward measures, Laodicea lacked nothing.
Yet, there was a quiet irony rooted in the city’s life. Despite all its wealth and innovation, Laodicea had no reliable water source. Its survival depended on water piped in from neighboring cities—water that arrived neither refreshingly cold nor therapeutically hot, but lukewarm. Day after day, residents lived with this subtle yet constant reminder: it is possible to be strong in many ways and still lack what truly matters.
That tension isn’t limited to ancient cities. It’s a danger that affects every generation—and every church. It’s possible to have resources, reputation, and even religious activity, and still be missing something essential. It’s possible to feel secure while being spiritually vulnerable, to seem full while being empty, to assume all is well when something deeply wrong is present. And into that kind of situation, Jesus speaks—not to condemn from a distance, but to confront, to awaken, and ultimately to restore.
Apathy Sickens the Soul (vv. 14-16)
Jesus knows! To each of the seven churches, Jesus declares: “I know your works.” He knows their poverty, their tribulation, their faithfulness, and their failures—because He loves His bride, the church. And to the church in Laodicea, He says: “I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot” (v. 15). This is not an opinion, not a hypothesis, and not slander. What Jesus knows, He sees—and what He sees is reality. How do we know? Because of who Jesus is. He is the Amen, the faithful and true witness, and the beginning of God’s creation.
Jesus is the Amen—the “Yes” to all of God’s promises. He does not merely affirm what is true; He is the fulfillment of it. As Paul writes, “For all the promises of God find their Yes in him…” (2 Cor. 1:20). As Sam Storms puts it, “Jesus doesn’t just say, ‘Amen’; he is ‘the Amen’… the validation of all that God has promised.”1 He is the faithful and true witness. You can trust Him. What He says is not only honest—it is truth. He never misreads, never exaggerates, and never speaks in error. What He sees is reality (Rev. 1:5). And in contrast to the Laodicean church—who prove to be unreliable, unfaithful, and ineffective—Jesus remains utterly dependable, completely faithful, and the true witness. His words are not unkind, but lovingly and truthfully direct. Because He is faithful and true, He neither misspeaks nor misleads—He tells the truth that must be heard.
1 Sam Storms, To the One Who Conquers (Wheaton, IL: Crossway; 2008), 196.
Finally, Jesus is the beginning of God’s creation—not that He has an origin, but that He is the source of all creation and the beginning of the new. “All things were made through him…” (John 1:3), and through Him God is making all things new: “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation…” (2 Cor. 5:17); “Behold, I am making all things new” (Rev. 21:5). And it is this Jesus—the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the beginning of God’s creation—who now says: “I know your works…” What works? Jesus answers: “you are neither cold nor hot… you are lukewarm” (v. 15).
Laodicea was heavily dependent on external water supplies. On one side of the city was Colossae, known for its cool, refreshing drinking water. On the other side was Hierapolis, known for its hot springs, believed to bring healing through their minerals. Colossae’s water refreshed; Hierapolis’ water healed. By contrast, water was brought into Laodicea—likely from nearby thermal sources—and by the time it arrived, it was no longer hot and not truly cold, but lukewarm, mineral-laden, and often unpleasant to drink. It lacked the refreshing quality of cold water and the therapeutic value of hot water—it was useful for neither. And this is the word Jesus uses to describe His church. In fact, He goes even further: “So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth” (v. 16). The Greek word for “spit” literally means “vomit.” Listen to the way the BSB translates this verse: “So because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to vomit you out of My mouth!”
Many have interpreted Jesus’ desire for the Laodicean church to be either cold or hot—cold meaning spiritually dead and hot meaning spiritually alive—as a sign of His anger over their indifference. However, a better understanding considers the local context of Laodicea. Jesus is calling this church to be like the cold water that refreshes or the hot water that heals, instead of being ineffective by offering neither. The church had lost sight of her purpose in the city, and as a result, her actions were revolting to her Groom—she had become so spiritually ill that she was practically useless. They offered neither healing to those who were spiritually sick nor refreshment to those who were spiritually thirsty. They were missionally useless. With that in mind, let’s examine what Jesus says to this church.
Self-Sufficiency Bankrupts Life (vv. 17-18)
This sickness born from their apathy was symptomatic of a deeper problem: self-sufficiency. Those within the church in Laodicea had come to believe they were doing just fine on their own. It is true that missional apathy leads to spiritual blindness, but it is also true that the more self-sufficient we believe we are, the less effective we become. The more we depend on ourselves, the less we depend on Christ—and the less we depend on Christ, the more spiritually lifeless we become. Jesus said of the Christian,
I am the true vine, and My Father is the keeper of the vineyard. He cuts off every branch in Me that bears no fruit, and every branch that does bear fruit, He prunes to make it even more fruitful. You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you. Remain in Me, and I will remain in you. Just as no branch can bear fruit by itself unless it remains in the vine, neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in Me. (John 15:1-4; BSB)
Life and fruit-bearing come only as we remain connected to the true vine, who is Jesus. The life giving sap of the vine is not something we can produce on our own—we need the vine. The lie of self-sufficiency is that we can bear fruit apart from Him. But the reality is this: the less we depend on the vine, the more lifeless we become. This is exactly what happened to the church in Laodicea.
The true testimony of Jesus concerning His church in Laodicea was something their apathy and self-sufficiency had blinded them from seeing. Here is what Jesus said: “For you say, ‘I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing,’ not realizing that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked” (v. 17). In other words, they had taken their eyes off the all-sufficient Christ and, in doing so, developed a deeply distorted view of themselves. In claiming to be “rich,” they could not see their need; in saying they had “prospered,” they could not see their sin; and in believing they needed nothing, they revealed the depth of their pride. This is what made their condition so repulsive—it made Jesus want to vomit.
Now consider their claims in light of the first three beatitudes from Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven… Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted… Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” Those who find life in Jesus, begin by recognizing their spiritual poverty, yet the church in Laodicea claimed to be rich. Those who belong to Christ mourn over their sin, yet the Laodiceans believed themselves to be prospering. Those who walk with Jesus lay aside their pride and depend on Him, yet this church believed they needed nothing.
Because they had taken their eyes off Jesus, they had become something very different from what they believed themselves to be. They thought they were self-sufficient. The irony is striking: while they believed they had prospered in three ways, Jesus reveals six realities that define their true condition.
They were ignorant: They did not realize how far they had fallen.
They were wretched: They were spiritually dried up and miserable.
They were pitiable: Their condition was shameful—their witness empty and ineffective. 4. They were poor: Though materially prosperous, their compromises left them with nothing of eternal value—nothing to show for what Christ purchased on their behalf.
They were blind: Though their city was famous for its eye salve, the church could not see, because it had taken its eyes off Jesus.
They were naked: Though clothed in the city’s finest garments, before Christ they stood exposed and ashamed.
It is striking that Jesus lists six deficiencies. In Scripture, seven often symbolizes completeness, while six falls short of that fullness. Whether intentional or not, the message is clear: this church was deeply incomplete. They believed they had everything—but in reality, they were lacking in every way. They thought they were thriving, but in truth, they were spiritually bankrupt, having believed the lie that they could live the Christian life apart from absolute dependence on Jesus.
So what solution does Jesus offer? His answer is both confronting and gracious: “I counsel you to buy from me gold refined by fire, so that you may be rich, and white garments so that you may clothe yourself and the shame of your nakedness may not be seen, and salve to anoint your eyes, so that you may see.” In other words, come to Him. What they thought they possessed, they lacked—and what they truly needed, only Jesus could give. Their wealth could not make them rich, their garments could not cover their shame, and their medicine could not cure their blindness. Jesus is calling this church, and He is calling us back to the good news of Isaiah 55:1-3.
Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food. Incline your ear, and come to me; hear, that your soul may live; and I will make with you an everlasting covenant, my steadfast, sure love for David.
Jesus said the same thing condensed into one sentence: “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied” (Matt. 5:6).
Here is the hope: Jesus does not expose our spiritual condition to humiliate us, but to bring us back and restore us. The same voice that confronts with a sharp rebuke is the voice that gently invites us to return. He does not abandon His church—He extends a gracious call to come back to Him.
Abiding in Jesus Satisfies the Heart (vv. 19-22)
For me, these verses are among the most beautiful and comforting in all of Scripture when it comes to Jesus’ persistent love for His church. The words, “Those whom I love, I reprove and discipline…” (Rev. 3:19), remind us that as long as we are alive and attentive, there is still time—Christ’s rebuke is not rejection, but His redeeming love. This is why our Lord adds: “so be zealous and repent.”
This truth is echoed in Proverbs 3:11–12: “My son, do not despise the Lord’s discipline or be weary of his reproof, for the Lord reproves him whom he loves, as a father the son in whom he delights,” and again in 1 Corinthians 11:32: “But when we are judged by the Lord, we are disciplined so that we may not be condemned along with the world.” Taken together, these passages reveal that the Lord’s discipline is not meant to destroy but to restore. It is the gracious work of a loving Father who refuses to let His people drift toward condemnation.
But what I find so fascinating about this letter is what Jesus says next: “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me” (vv. 20–21). Even after His strong and just rebuke, Jesus does not stand at a distance waiting for us to come to Him—He comes to us.
This verse has been used in countless evangelistic appeals, but here Jesus is not speaking to unbelievers—He is speaking to His church. His knocking is a call to repent, a call to renewed fellowship, a call to abide in Him.
There’s an interesting parallel to this verse in Song of Solomon 5. The beloved comes, he knocks—but she delays. And by the time she rises to open the door, he is gone. All that remains is the fragrance of myrrh on the handle—a reminder that he had been there.
I sleep, but my heart is awake. A sound! My beloved is knocking: “Open to me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my flawless one. My head is drenched with dew, my hair with the dampness of the night.” I have taken off my robe— must I put it back on? I have washed my feet— must I soil them again? My beloved put his hand to the latch; my heart pounded for him. I rose up to open for my beloved. My hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with flowing myrrh on the handles of the bolt. I opened for my beloved, but he had turned and gone. My heart sank at his departure. I sought him, but did not find him. I called, but he did not answer. (Song 5:2-6)
Now, I don’t know how healthy your relationship with Jesus is. I don’t know if it resembles some of the marriages in this congregation—where there is barely a pulse of love or romance. But I do believe that over the past six weeks, you have felt the Spirit’s prodding concerning some of the “leaven” He is calling you to remove.
Maybe you have abandoned the love you had at first, like the church in Ephesus. Or perhaps you have embraced teaching that has actually harmed your relationship with Jesus—because what you believe to be true is not, like the church in Pergamum. Maybe there’s a Jezebel in your life you’ve been listening to—or even obeying—like the church in Thyatira. Or perhaps you are Jezebel… and have refused to repent, placing yourself in danger. Or maybe you’ve become so lethargic in your walk with Jesus that you appear more dead than alive, like the church in Sardis. Or maybe you’re in a good place. Maybe you love Jesus deeply and sincerely. But maybe you are weary of suffering and need encouragement, like the church in Smyrna. Maybe you have kept Jesus’ word and not denied His name—but you’re anxious about what lies ahead, like the church in Philadelphia.
Or maybe… you are neither cold nor hot.
Maybe you have become:
Ignorant—drifting further than you realize.
Wretched—spiritually dry and miserable.
Pitiable—your witness empty and ineffective.
Poor—having nothing to show for what Christ purchased on your behalf.
Blind—because you have taken your eyes off Jesus.
Naked—standing before Him exposed and ashamed.
But I have good news for you, Christian: Jesus is not done with you. He is not distant from you. He is not waiting for you to clean yourself up.
He is standing at the door—and He is knocking.
Listen again to what He says: “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.” Do not make the same mistake the bride made in Song of Solomon 5—do not linger. Go to Him. Jesus wants be in fellowship with you; He wants to tabernacle with you.
Listen to the Holy Spirit: the door may still be closed—but He is still there. And that means… there is still time. Do not delay. Repent.

Sunday Mar 15, 2026
Sunday Mar 15, 2026
There is a passage in the Bible that has challenged my pride while also encouraging me when I feel completely inadequate. By the world’s standards of intelligence or success, I probably shouldn’t be serving as a pastor, teaching, or writing. Growing up, my parents were told that I probably wouldn’t go to college because I wasn’t considered smart enough. I spent much of junior high and high school in learning-disabled classes, and until my senior year I barely passed most of my courses. Yet after I surrendered my life to Jesus Christ, I began to understand something that changed everything: what ultimately matters is not what the world thinks we are capable of doing, but what God says through His Word.
During my junior year of high school, I read something in 1 Corinthians 1 that has stayed with me ever since: “For the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God” (1 Cor. 1:18). Then, a few verses later Paul says something that has continued to humble and encourage me ever since:
“Consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards… But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise. God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong… so that no human being might boast in the presence of God” (1 Cor. 1:26–29)
Those words changed the way I saw my life. I began to realize that what ultimately matters is not what the world thinks we are capable of doing, but what God chooses to do through us.
Not long after reading those words, I attended a Billy Graham crusade in Philadelphia in 1992, where I sensed God’s call to ministry. By God’s grace, I was eventually able to attend what is now Cairn University. It took me seven years to finish a four-year degree, but I later went to seminary and entered ministry.
So what is my point? I am who I am today because I have a Savior who opens doors no one can shut and shuts doors no one can open. That is exactly what Jesus tells the church in Philadelphia. He can use the weak. He can use the foolish. He can use people the world has written off. All He asks is that we keep His word and do not deny His name.
The city of Philadelphia was founded sometime between 197 and 138 B.C., most likely by King Eumenes II of Pergamum or his brother Attalus II. Its name means “brotherly love,” a title connected to the loyalty Attalus showed toward his brother, earning him the nickname Philadelphus—“the brother-lover.” Philadelphia itself was not a large city—perhaps ten to fifteen thousand people—but it sat at an important crossroads leading into Phrygia, giving it influence beyond its size.
The city was filled with temples and altars to many gods, and the fertile volcanic soil surrounding it made vineyards central to its economy and to the worship of Dionysus. Another defining feature of Philadelphia was instability. The city sat in an earthquake-prone region, and tremors were frequent. Ancient writers describe how people often fled outside the city walls when the ground began to shake, unsure whether their homes would still be standing when the tremors stopped. It is to this small, pressured, and often unstable church that Jesus now speaks.
Trust Jesus Because He Is the Righteous Branch of David (v. 7)
Each of the seven letters begins with a statement about who Jesus is that connects to the vision of Christ in Revelation 1. Here in this letter John does the same thing—but he also reminds us why Jesus has the authority to say what He says. In case you have forgotten, let me remind you who Jesus is:
He is the Alpha and the Omega (1:8, 17).
He is the faithful witness (1:5).
He is the firstborn of the dead (1:5).
He is the ruler of the kings of the earth (1:5).
He is the one who loves us and freed us from our sins by His blood (1:5). 6. He is the one who made us a kingdom, priests to His God and Father (1:6). 7. He is the one who is coming with the clouds (1:7).
He is the one who is, who was, and who is to come—the Almighty (1:8).
John then describes the glorified Christ standing among His churches:
He is the Almighty (1:8).
He is the Son of Man and the Son of God (1:13).
He is our great and perfect High Priest (1:13).
His hair is white like wool because He is all-wise and all-knowing (1:14). 13. His eyes are a flame of fire because He is all-seeing (1:14).
He feet are burnished bronze because He is omnipotent (1:15).
His voice is like the roar of waters because He is the agent of creation (1:15). 16. He holds the seven stars in His right hand because He is the head of the Church (1:16).
And then Jesus Himself speaks:
He is the First and the Last (1:17).
He is the Living One (1:18).
He died and is alive forevermore (1:18).
He holds the keys of Death and Hades (1:18).
He embodies all of these characteristics because He is the One spoken of in Jeremiah 23:5–6: “Behold, the days are coming, declares the Lord, when I will raise up for David a righteous Branch, and he shall reign as king and deal wisely, and shall execute justice and righteousness in the land. In his days Judah will be saved, and Israel will dwell securely. And this is the name by which he will be called: ‘The LORD is our righteousness.’”
If that is not clear enough, let me say it plainly: Jesus is Yahweh. And because He is fully God while also fully man, He is our righteousness.
Because He is God, Jesus is both the Holy One and the True One. To call Jesus the Holy One is to declare His deity. Isaiah writes, “To whom then will you compare me, that I should be like him? says the Holy One… Lift up your eyes on high and see: who created these?” (Isa. 40:25–26). The title reminds us that Jesus possesses the same holiness and divine authority as the God of Israel.
Jesus is also called the True One, meaning He shares the same nature and essence as the Father. In Revelation 6:10 the martyrs cry out to God as “holy and true,” the same description given here to Christ. These titles remind us that Jesus is not merely a teacher or prophet—He is God.
Because Jesus is the Holy One and the True One, He holds the key of David. That means He alone has authority over the kingdom of heaven. He alone determines who enters and who does not. The key does not belong to Muhammad, Buddha, or the founder of any other religion—it belongs to Jesus Christ. That is why Jesus said, “I am the door. If anyone enters by me, he will be saved” (John 10:9). As Paul declares, “There is one God, and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus” (1 Tim. 2:5). Because He holds the key of David, He opens what no one can shut, and shuts what no one can open.
Trust Jesus Because He Is Sovereign Over Every Door (v. 8)
It should not surprise us that Jesus knows the works of this church. What might surprise some people—especially in a culture where bigger is assumed to be better—is that the church in Philadelphia had “little power.” Yet despite their size and influence, Jesus says to them, “Behold, I have set before you an open door, which no one is able to shut.”
Now pause for a moment and consider what Jesus says about this church. The believers in Philadelphia did not have a large budget. They had no stage lights, no impressive programs. All they had was Jesus and His Word. But is that not the story of the entire Bible? There was nothing impressive about Noah when God called him to build the ark. There was nothing outwardly remarkable about Abraham when God chose him to become the father of a great nation. There was nothing intimidating about David when he stood before Goliath with a sling and a few smooth stones. When the prophet Samuel went to Jesse’s house to anoint the next king of Israel, God reminded him of something we often forget: “For the LORD sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart” (1 Sam. 16:7).
One of the great missionary stories of church history is that of Henry Martyn. Martyn was a brilliant scholar at St. John’s College, Cambridge, graduating at the top of his class in mathematics and positioned for a prestigious academic career. Yet he was physically frail and had an unusual appearance. Despite this, he fell deeply in love with a woman named Lydia Grenfell, who saw past his outward appearance.
But Martyn soon became convinced that God was calling him to take the gospel to India—the one place Lydia had said she would never go. Faced with the choice between the woman he loved and the path God had placed before him, Martyn chose obedience. At twenty-four he left England for India, where he translated the New Testament into Hindustani and Persian. The hardships of that work took a toll on his health, and at thirty-one he died while traveling through Turkey.
Yet in those few short years God used Martyn in remarkable ways. His life reminds us that when Jesus opens a door, He can use a person however He chooses. The question is not whether the path will be easy, but whether we will trust Him enough to walk through the door He opens.
Henry Martyn once said, “The spirit of Christ is the spirit of missions. The nearer we get to Him, the more intensely missionary we become.”1
Trust Jesus Because He Loves His People (v. 9)
In his commentary on Revelation, Daniel Akin said of this verse: “Our Lord has a general love for all but a particular love for His children.”2 How true that is. These Christians, like those in Smyrna, faced opposition not only from the pagan world but also from certain Jews who opposed the church and the gospel. These individuals likely took pride in being truly Jewish because of their biological connection to Abraham, believing that their heritage and religious affiliation were enough to please God. Yet what they did not realize was that they were just as spiritually dead as the Roman pagans who worshiped Caesar as lord.
But there is coming a day when all will bow before Jesus—either in loving reverence or in bitter subjugation. Revelation reminds us of this reality: “Behold, he is coming with the clouds, and every eye will see him, even those who pierced him, and all tribes of the earth will wail on account of him” (Rev. 1:7). The apostle Paul says the same thing in Epistle to the Philippians: “At the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father” (Phil. 2:9–11).
1 Daniel L. Akin, Exalting Jesus in Revelation, ed. Daniel L. Akin, David Platt, and Tony Merida, Christ Centered Exposition Commentary (Nashville, TN: Holman Reference, 2016), 92.
2Ibid, 94.
On that day it will become painfully clear to those who rejected Christ and opposed His people who it is that is truly loved by the One who matters. All of heaven will rejoice in the truth of First Epistle of John 3:1: “Behold what manner of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God. And that is what we are!” (BSB).
The world may misunderstand the church today, but one day it will be undeniable: those who have been redeemed by Christ are the people He loves.
Trust Jesus Because He Will Protect You (v. 10)
Of all the verses in this passage, the second half of verse 10 has generated much debate. The first half, however, is clear: “Because you have kept my word about patient endurance…” Jesus had already taught that suffering and persecution would mark the Christian life. He said, “You will be hated by all for my name’s sake. But the one who endures to the end will be saved” (Mark 13:13). He also said, “In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). That is why the author of Hebrews urges believers to “fix our eyes on Jesus… who for the joy set before Him endured the cross” (Heb. 12:2).
The Christians in Philadelphia were known for this perseverance. They held firmly to Christ’s word and refused to deny His name. But what has generated discussion is Jesus’ promise: “I will keep you from the hour of trial that is coming on the whole world, to try those who dwell on the earth.”
The “hour of trial” refers to a period of time when God will judge those who dwell on the earth. The phrase translated “that is coming” reflects a Greek expression meaning “about to come” or “destined to come,” emphasizing that the coming hour of trial is certain and approaching. I will address the nature and timing of that tribulation when we reach Revelation 6 later in this series. Some believe this promise means believers will be removed (or raptured) from the world beforehand. While I respect that view, I believe Revelation points to something different: that Christians will remain in the world during that time but will be protected by God. Besides, if the “hour of trial” was an event in the distant future, why would Jesus promise only one of the seven churches that existed in the first century in Asia that they would be exclusively protected from such an event?
Revelation shows believers being sealed and protected during the tribulation (Rev. 7), measured and accounted for by God (Rev. 11), and nourished and protected even during intense persecution (Rev. 12). Most importantly, this fits Jesus’ own prayer before the cross: “I do not ask that you take them out of the world, but that you keep them from the evil one” (John 17:15).
In other words, Jesus does not promise that His people will avoid every trial. What He promises is something better: His protection and His presence in the midst of it.
Trust Jesus Because He Will Keep You (vv. 11–12)
Jesus encourages these believers with the promise that He is coming soon. The point is that they are to live each day with the expectation that Christ could return at any time. Jesus is not distant from His church. He knows their works (v. 8), and at the very beginning of the book of Revelation He is pictured walking among the lampstands, present with His people (1:12–13). Therefore they are to hold fast to what they already have—namely Jesus Himself.
The command to “hold fast” reminds us that the Christian life is one of perseverance. Jesus warns them to remain faithful so that no one will seize their crown. The call is not to escape hardship, nor is it a threat that a believer will lose his salvation, but to cling to Christ and His Word until the day He returns so that you do not lose your reward in heaven for faithful obedience on earth.
Verse 12 holds a remarkable promise. Notice what Jesus says He will do. He promises: “I will make him a pillar in the temple of my God…” and “I will write on him the name of my God…” and “the name of the city of my God…” But that is not all—Jesus says He will write His own name upon those who belong to Him.
The emphasis is not on what believers accomplish, but on what Jesus promises to do for those who overcome. He promises permanence—“Never shall he go out of it.” In a city like Philadelphia, where earthquakes often forced people to flee their homes, Jesus promises something unshakable. Those who belong to Him will stand forever in His presence, marked with the name of “my God.”
The message to the church in Philadelphia is simple: Trust Jesus.
Trust Him because He is the Holy and True One. Trust Him because He opens doors no one can shut. Trust Him because He loves His people, protects them in trials, and promises to keep them forever.
So what is the point? It is simple: Jesus loves you too much to let you go.

Sunday Mar 08, 2026
Sunday Mar 08, 2026
The city of Sardis once symbolized wealth, power, and security. During the reign of King Croesus in the sixth century B.C., it gained fame for its riches, much of which came from the gold deposits of the Pactolus River flowing through the city. Situated strategically at the western end of the Royal Road, Sardis prospered as a central hub of commerce and influence. Yet the city also harbored a hidden vulnerability. Despite its seemingly invulnerable position atop a steep acropolis, Sardis fell more than once because its guards failed to remain watchful. In 546 B.C., the Persian king Cyrus captured the city when his troops discovered an unguarded path up the cliffs while the city slept. Centuries later the same thing happened again under Antiochus III. Each time Sardis fell not because its defenses were weak, but because its people had grown complacent. The city’s greatest weakness was its false sense of security.
By the first century, Sardis was largely living on memories of its former greatness. Its wealth and influence had faded, and the surrounding hills were dotted with large burial mounds—so numerous that the area was sometimes called “the city of a thousand hills,” a landscape dominated by tombs. Against this backdrop, Jesus speaks to the church in Sardis with sobering words: “You have the reputation of being alive, but you are dead.” (Rev. 3:1).
The church appeared lively on the outside—active, recognized, and respected—but Christ, who knows the heart, revealed a deeper reality. Like the city itself, the church in Sardis had become a community living on its past reputation rather than its present spiritual reality. And the sobering truth about these letters in Revelation is that they were never meant for Sardis alone. At the end
of each letter Jesus says, “He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.” In other words, the question this passage forces us to ask is not simply, What was wrong with Sardis? The real question is this: Could a church look alive on the outside while slowly dying on the inside?
The Living Dead
Jesus introduces Himself to this church as the One who holds the seven spirits of God and the seven stars. The seven spirits symbolize the fullness of the Holy Spirit—the Spirit sent by the Father and the Son to dwell with God’s people, guiding and empowering believers to fulfill His purposes (John 16:7–15; Acts 1:8). The seven stars are either angels or the pastors of the churches; for the sake of argument, we will assume they are angels assigned to serve the churches.
What is the purpose of this introduction? The sevenfold Spirit and the seven stars serve as witnesses to the true spiritual state of the church in Sardis. Nothing about their condition is hidden from Christ. The Spirit who gives life sees them, the heavenly witnesses observe them, and the One who holds them all in His hand now delivers His verdict: “I know your works. You have the reputation of being alive, but you are dead” (Rev. 3:1).
Like the city of Sardis, this church took pride in past successes and missional engagement from a time when it was truly alive. By the time Revelation was written, however, those achievements had become little more than a reputation. Something had changed over the years; a breach had opened, and a weakness the church failed to address was exposed. In their complacency, much like the leaders of Sardis before them, those responsible for guarding the church grew careless and failed to take the enemy’s threats seriously. This church believed itself to be alive when it was not.
As one theologian explains, the language used to describe this church’s condition “is a figurative overstatement (hyperbole) intended to emphasize the church’s precarious spiritual state and the imminent danger of its genuine death.”1 Thankfully, the One who walks among His churches is the Living One who was once dead but is now alive forevermore (Rev. 1:18). The risen Christ has the power to raise the dead.
In his book Autopsy of a Deceased Church, Thom Rainer identifies several factors that often lead to the death of a church. Among the symptoms he describes are the following:
The Great Commission became the Great Omission.
The church has no clear sense of purpose.
The church becomes obsessed with its facilities.
Another common symptom of a dying church is that its past becomes its hero. Instead of pressing forward in the mission Christ has given, the church begins living in yesterday’s victories rather than engaging in today’s calling. When this happens, the church becomes lethargic. When churches take their eyes off Jesus and focus on the illusion of past strengths, they become lethargic. When churches take their eyes off Jesus, they become vulnerable to the attacks of the enemy who seeks to kill and destroy.
This is not only true of churches, because when Christians lose focus on Jesus, they become sluggish and more susceptible to the enemy’s attacks. Jesus warned us about these dangers: “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy” (John 10:10). Richard Phillips explains it this way:
If we are not vigilant, we may find that an enemy has scaled our walls, opened our gates, and brought us destruction. Not only are churches overthrown when pastors and elders do not watch, but families are conquered when fathers and mothers are not diligently on guard against sinful influences. Moreover, individuals are overthrown by careless neglect, having failed to watch for the devices of the enemy and be on guard against temptations to sin.2
1 G. K. Beale, The Book of Revelation: A Commentary on the Greek Text, New International Greek Testament Commentary (Grand Rapids, MI; Carlisle, Cumbria: W.B. Eerdmans; Paternoster Press, 1999), 273.
The apostle Peter urges everyone who makes up Christ’s church: “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour” (1 Pet. 5:8). It is very possible that the reason some think they are alive, while there is barely a spiritual pulse within them, is because they have given the enemy a foothold. Yet they continue talking about past successes while Jesus sees through it all, and the Holy Spirit testifies that they are spiritually asleep and in grave danger.
The Call to Live
Thankfully, if you are here and the Holy Spirit is confirming in your heart right now that you are in a precarious spiritual state and in imminent and grave spiritual danger, there is hope! There are five commands Jesus gives to those who are not yet dead but in a deep slumber. The leaven that the church of Sardis is told to get rid of is spiritual apathy! In this moment, it is not yet too late, but if you stay in your apathy, then you may be dead. Here the five commands in verses 2- 3, “Wake up, and strengthen what remains and is about to die, for I have not found your works complete in the sight of my God. Remember, then, what you received and heard. Keep it, and repent. If you will not wake up, I will come like a thief, and you will not know at what hour I will come against you.”
Command 1: “Wake up!”
The first of the five commands Jesus gives is, “Wake up!” This command itself is evidence that not everyone in Sardis was dead. Revival begins when people see and understand the dangers that surround them. It begins when sleeping Christians awaken to the voice and majesty of Jesus and no longer cling to the past or the comforts of the present, but instead long for and cling to the Christ who is coming soon.
So, wake up! Wake up to the One who “is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through Him” (Heb. 7:25). Wake up to the One who was “made sin who knew no sin” on our behalf (2 Cor. 5:21). Wake up to the One who hung on the cross so that you might know and experience “the immeasurable riches of His grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus” (Eph. 2:7). Wake up to the Lion and the Lamb “who loves us and has freed us from our sins by His blood” (Rev. 1:5). Wake up to the First and the Last, the Living One (Rev. 1:18a). Wake up to the One who died and is alive forevermore and who holds the keys of Death and Hades (Rev. 1:18b).
Wake up! And if you are awake, turn to those who are slumbering and shake them until they rise, because today is the day to seal the breach and stand firm.
2 Richard D. Phillips, Revelation, ed. Richard D. Phillips, Philip Graham Ryken, and Daniel M. Doriani, Reformed Expository Commentary (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 2017), 135.
Command 2: “Strengthen what remains!”
After you wake up, strengthen what remains before it is gone. Lay aside mediocrity and be content no longer with the illusion of apathetic safety. The house is on fire, the foundation is unstable, and there is a breach that can no longer be ignored. Daniel Akin writes of this church: “Their faith was not radical; it was almost invisible.... They were so weak in their confession of Christ that they bothered no one. Like the unfinished temple of Cybele in their city, they too were incomplete in what Christ saved them and called them to be.”3
How do you strengthen what remains? You have God’s Word, don’t you? Turn to His Word. Read it regularly. Sit under the preaching of His Word. God has spoken—so listen often. The apostle Peter reminds believers what remains: “…you have been born again, not of perishable seed but of imperishable, through the living and abiding word of God.” (1 Pet. 1:23).
You serve a God who hears His people, so pray that He would revive you in the same way He can make dead bones live (see Ezek. 37:4ff.) and keep praying. Pray again and pray some more. He has also given you a community of His people called the church, so fellowship with them. This is how you begin to strengthen what remains.
Command 3: Remember what you received and heard!
What did you receive, Christian? What is available to you who still face the looming wrath of a holy God because you do not yet know the Lamb of God? What is the answer? Here it is: “For Christ also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring us to God…” (1 Pet. 3:18a). Wake up to that! Hold on to that! Remember it—and do not dare forget it.
Remember that salvation is a free gift from God. It cannot be earned by anything we do but is received only through faith in Jesus Christ, who lived the life we could never live and died the death we all deserved. Remember these three truths:
Salvation is by grace alone. It is entirely a gift of God’s grace, not earned through human effort, works, or merit.
Salvation is through faith alone. If you are saved, you have been declared righteous by Almighty God. You are justified by faith in Jesus Christ alone—not by works or rituals you have performed, but by everything Jesus did on your behalf.
Salvation is in Christ alone. Jesus is the only mediator between God and mankind; His life and death are the sole basis for your salvation.
3 Daniel L. Akin, Exalting Jesus in Revelation, ed. Daniel L. Akin, David Platt, and Tony Merida, Christ Centered Exposition Commentary (Nashville, TN: Holman Reference, 2016), 84.
Christian, remember what you received and heard, and do not dare forget it or be ashamed of it. Why? Because “it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek.” (Rom. 1:16)
Command 4: Keep it.
Keep what? Keep the truth of the gospel and don’t lose it! The gospel is Hebrews10:12-14, “But when Christ had offered for all time a single sacrifice for sins, he sat down at the right hand of God, waiting from that time until his enemies should be made a footstool for his feet. For by a single offering he has perfected for all time those who are being sanctified.”
If you are a Christian, the evidence that you are awake is that you cling to the Him and you do that by following Him in obedience. Jesus told us how to keep the gospel: “Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord,’ and not do what I tell you? Everyone who comes to me and hears my words and does them, I will show you what he is like: he is like a man building a house, who dug deep and laid the foundation on the rock. And when a flood arose, the stream broke against that house and could not shake it, because it had been well built. But the one who hears and does not do them is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation. When the stream broke against it, immediately it fell, and the ruin of that house was great.” (Luke 6:46-49)
Command 5: Repent.
Repent means to turn away from your sin. To repent is to change. Repentance is not just feeling sorry for sin or talking about wanting to change; it is a decision accompanied by action. Jesus warns that if you refuse to wake up, strengthen what remains, remember what you received, and keep it, He “will come like a thief, and you will not know at what hour I will come against you.” (Rev. 3:3)
What does this mean? It is not referring to His second coming, but to the discipline and judgment Christ will bring upon those who refuse to wake up. For a church that refuses to repent, He will remove the lampstand. And for the “Christian” who refuses to wake up, He will come at a time and hour that is not expected.
Conclusion (vv. 4-6)
There were some in Sardis who had not soiled their garments. Who were these Christians? They were the ones who were awake; the ones who continued to grow in their relationship with Jesus; the ones who not only remembered the gospel but kept it, and who were quick to repent and turn from their sins. Here is what Jesus said about these men and women: “Yet you have still a few names in Sardis, people who have not soiled their garments, and they will walk with me in white, for they are worthy.” (Rev. 3:4).
These Christians walked in a manner worthy of their calling (Eph. 4:1). Jesus calls them “worthy” not because they earned their salvation, but because the Holy Spirit enabled and empowered them to live obediently for Him.
They understood that all the power needed to live and walk as ambassadors of Jesus Christ in Sardis came from the sevenfold Spirit of God who sealed and empowered them—the kind of power the apostle Paul wrote about: “…the immeasurable greatness of His power toward us who believe, according to the working of His great might that He worked in Christ when He raised Him from the dead…” (Eph. 1:19–20a).
These are the ones who conquer through the power of the Holy Spirit, whose garments are white because of the gospel of Jesus Christ, and whose names the Father keeps as His sons and daughters. These are the ones who have experienced what the apostle Paul wrote about: “Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.” (Eph. 5:14).
Reformed and Dangerous posted a song not long ago on Revelation 3. There is a verse in the song that would be good to make our prayer as we consider what happened to the church in Sardis.
I don’t want warm, I don’t want safe,
I don’t want comfort dressed up as faith.
If I burn, then let it be,
Better fire than apathy.
Light me up — don’t let me fade,
There’s no half-alive or half-saved.4
4 Faith that Burns, “Revelation 3,” YouTube video, accessed March 8,
2026, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K7QmMCjL_3c.

Sunday Mar 01, 2026
Sunday Mar 01, 2026
What you see, hear, and say matters.
I once heard a pastor say, “Your eyes and your ears are the gateways into your mind and heart.” That is exactly right. What we allow in shapes what we believe, and what we believe shapes what we say and do. This is one of the reasons God takes very seriously what people say in His name. It is not only what you claim about Him, but how you represent Him before your family, your friends, your neighbors, and your coworkers. Words spoken in God’s name carry eternal weight.
That is why Scripture warns us so clearly:
“But the prophet who presumes to speak a word in my name that I have not commanded him to speak… that same prophet shall die… when a prophet speaks in the name of the LORD, if the word does not come to pass… that is a word that the LORD has not spoken” (Deut. 18:20–22).
Jesus added His own warning:
“Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves… You will recognize them by their fruits” (Matt. 7:15–17).
And then there is this sobering word for anyone who teaches the Bible:
“Not many of you should become teachers… for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness” (James 3:1).
You had better be certain that God has spoken before you claim to speak for Him. To say, “God told me,” when He did not tell you—to claim divine authority where there is none—is no small matter. It is to speak falsely in His name. And that is exactly what was happening in Thyatira. The woman Jesus calls “Jezebel” stands as a warning—not only to false teachers, but to any church willing to tolerate them.
The Idolatry of Thyatira (v. 18)
Thyatira was not a political capital like Ephesus or Pergamum. It was a working-class trade city, known for its guilds—wool workers, bronze craftsmen, bakers, potters, tanners, leather-cutters, and especially merchants of purple dye derived from the murex mollusk, a dye that was exceptionally expensive and rare. Economic and religious life were tightly intertwined.
Belonging to a guild meant participating in pagan feasts and immoral practices. For a Christian, refusing to participate could cost employment, reputation, and stability. In a city like that, compromise did not look rebellious—it looked reasonable. It looked practical.
Jesus reveals Himself as the Son of God, with eyes like a flame of fire and feet like burnished bronze. The people of Thyatira knew fire. They were familiar with the heat of the kiln, where clay was hardened, and with the intense flames required to refine and shape bronze. But the fire in Christ’s eyes is not the fire of craftsmanship—it is the fire of perfect vision. His gaze burns through every façade. He sees what is done in secret. He knows every hidden thought. He searches the heart.
And His feet of burnished bronze speak not of artistry but of authority. They embody unshakable strength and sovereign power. Whatever beauty the guilds could forge with their skill, it pales before the majesty and omnipotence of the Son of God who walks among His churches. His authority cannot be molded. His judgment cannot be reshaped. He stands firm, and He sees all.
He sees what a congregation may overlook. He discerns what lies beneath activity and affection. He had given time to repent, but repentance had not come. What the church would not confront, Christ Himself would. And yet, even here, there is mercy. To those who refused compromise, He gives no heavy burden—only this: hold fast until I come. The promise is not comfort in this world but participation in His reign and the gift of the Morning Star—Christ Himself. Thyatira reminds us that love without truth becomes dangerous, and tolerance without repentance becomes poison. Christ calls His church not merely to grow but to remain holy.
We will consider what this church did right before we look at Jesus’ rebuke for what they did wrong.
The Good that the Church Was Doing in Thyatira
This sermon marks the halfway point in this section in Revelation on the seven churches and it would be good for us to pause to make sure we do not miss what it is that Jesus knows about each of the churches:
The church in Ephesus: “I know your works, your toil, and your patient endurance...” • The church in Smyrna: “I know your tribulation and poverty...”
The church in Pergamum: “I know where you dwell.... Yet you hold fast my name...” • The church in Sardis: “I know your works. You have a reputation of being alive, but you are dead.”
The church in Philadelphia: “I know your works... and yet you have kept my word and have not denied my name.”
The church in Laodicea: “I know your works: you are neither hot nor cold...”
There is nowhere in the Old Testament or New Testament where faith is not evidenced by works. The evidence that the Christian has gone from spiritual death to spiritual life in Jesus is that you who were once dead are now alive! James put it this way: “For as the body apart from the spirit is dead, so also faith apart from works is dead” (2:26). In Paul’s epistle to the Ephesians, we read these words: “for at one time you were darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light (for the fruit of light is found in all that is good and right and true), and try to discern what is pleasing to the Lord” (Eph. 5:8-10).
When a person is alive, there is evidence of life. There is movement. There is hunger. There is a heartbeat and brain activity. Life produces signs of life. That is what Paul meant when he wrote, “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come” (2 Cor. 5:17). To be born again is not merely to adopt new language—it is to possess new life.
Jesus commends the church in Thyatira because their claim to belong to Him was evident. “I know your works, your love and faith and service and patient endurance…” (v. 19). Their Christianity was not theoretical—it was observable. Unlike the Ephesian church, which had abandoned its first love, the believers in Thyatira were marked by love—agapē. This was not sentimental affection; it was covenantal, self-giving love.
It is the kind of love described in 1 Corinthians 13: “Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things” (vv. 4–7). Their love for God shaped their faith, which expressed itself in service. That service required patient endurance. Even more striking, Jesus says their latter works exceeded the first. This church was growing.
In many ways, Thyatira appears strong. Where Ephesus had abandoned its first love, Thyatira possessed it. Where Pergamum struggled with false teaching, Thyatira held fast to the faith. Like Smyrna, they patiently endured suffering. Yet this letter reminds us that Christian virtues must remain rightly ordered. Love must be joined to truth. Faith must be guarded by discernment. Love leads to service, and faith produces endurance—but if love is not anchored in truth, it can become the very doorway for compromise.1 For Thyatira, compromise came in the form of tolerating a false teacher within their own congregation.
The Bad that the Church was Ignoring in Thyatira (vv. 20-23)
Before rebuking this church, Jesus affirmed what was good. He did not overlook their love, faith, service, and endurance. But affirmation does not cancel accountability. There was something dangerous in their fellowship—something they were tolerating—and it had become serious enough for Christ to address directly.
1 Richard D. Phillips, Revelation, ed. Richard D. Phillips, Philip Graham Ryken, and Daniel M. Doriani, Reformed Expository Commentary (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 2017), 122.
Thyatira was a market city composed largely of blue-collar workers and dominated by trade guilds. Each guild honored its own patron deity—Apollo, Artemis, Dionysus, and others. Apollo was associated with prophecy, healing, protection, and civic identity. Artemis with fertility and prosperity. Dionysus with revelry and sexual immorality. Religion and business were inseparable. Syncretism was the norm. Guild feasts involved food sacrificed to idols and immoral practices. Refusing participation could mean losing income and stability. Faithfulness to Christ could cost you your livelihood. It was not impossible to remain faithful—Lydia proves that (Acts 16:14–15)—but it was not easy.
In that environment arose a woman Jesus calls “Jezebel.” She claimed prophetic authority and was leading some in the congregation into sexual immorality and idolatry. The name is deliberate. The original Jezebel, the wife of Ahab (1 Ki. 16; 21), promoted Baal worship, incited rebellion against the Lord, and led Israel into detestable practices. Scripture says there was none like Ahab, “whom Jezebel his wife incited” (1 Ki. 21:25–26). Her life ended in humiliating judgment (2 Ki. 9). That name carries the weight of corruption and divine reckoning.
And now Jesus says to this church, “You tolerate that woman Jezebel” (v. 20). The easy thing to do is to avoid conflict by ignoring sin. But ignoring sin never solves the problem—it only allows it to spread. Christ gave her time to repent, but she refused (v. 21). The church had a responsibility to confront her influence, yet they tolerated it and endangered the flock.
So Jesus announces judgment: “Behold, I will throw her onto a sickbed… and I will strike her children dead” (vv. 22–23). The One who searches mind and heart will not allow corruption within His church to go unchecked. Christ is patient—but His patience has limits.
Conclusion
After addressing Jezebel and those who followed her, Jesus turns to His faithful servants: “But to the rest of you in Thyatira… I do not lay on you any other burden” (v. 24). That is mercy. He does not overwhelm them with new demands or complicate obedience. He simply says, “Only hold fast what you have until I come” (v. 25). In a city where compromise promised security and faithfulness threatened their future, following Jesus was costly. To hold fast meant loving Christ more than comfort and valuing truth more than stability.
Then comes the promise: “The one who conquers… I will give authority over the nations” (vv. 26–27). The world may reward compromise for a moment, but Christ rewards faithfulness forever. Those who overcome will share in His reign (v. 27; Ps. 2). The ones who seemed small in Thyatira will one day rule with the King.
And then this: “I will give him the morning star” (v. 28). Later, Jesus identifies Himself as the Morning Star (Rev. 22:16). The reward is not merely relief from pressure. It is not merely future authority. It is Christ Himself. The world offers comfort through compromise. Christ offers Himself through endurance.

Sunday Feb 22, 2026
Sunday Feb 22, 2026
Cities are known for their slogans. New York is called “The City That Never Sleeps.” Paris is “The City of Light.” Philadelphia is “The City of Brotherly Love.” Chicago is “The Windy City.” Every city has a name it embraces—something that captures its identity and the image it wants the world to believe about it.
But in Revelation 2, Jesus gives Pergamum a name no city would ever choose for itself. He calls it “where Satan’s throne is” (Rev. 2:13). Imagine that as your city’s reputation. Not “The Pride of Asia.” Not “The Seat of Learning.” Not “The Crown of Culture.” But “The Place Where Satan Dwells.”
Pergamum was the capital of Roman Asia, a center of political authority, pagan worship, and emperor devotion. Towering above the city stood a massive altar to Zeus, a visible reminder of pagan power. The Roman governor there possessed the ius gladii—the “right of the sword”— authority to execute. Power, religion, and politics converged in Pergamum in a way that made allegiance to Jesus costly.
So when Christ introduces Himself as the One who has the sharp two-edged sword, He makes a bold claim: ultimate authority does not belong to Rome. The sword does not finally rest in Caesar’s hand. It rests in His. Pergamum teaches us that the church’s greatest danger is not merely persecution from outside, but compromise from within—and that even where Satan’s throne seems near, Christ still reigns.
Dangers from the Outside (v. 13)
The Christians in Pergamum faced very real dangers. To the church in Smyrna, severe persecution was coming; to the church in Pergamum, it had already arrived in the martyrdom of Antipas. Unlike many cities in the empire, Pergamum offered few places to hide from Rome, as it was the headquarters of Roman government in Asia. Michael Wilcock observed, “If Ephesus was the New York of Asia, Pergamum was its Washington, for there the Roman imperial power had its seat of government.” Devotion to emperor worship was not optional civic ritual — it was public loyalty to Rome — and for Christians, refusal came at a cost.
But Pergamum’s pressure did not come from Rome alone. The city was saturated with devotion to Zeus, Athena, Dionysos, and Asklepios — all of whom had prominent temples. The massive altar to Zeus, hailed as the god of gods, rose like a throne above the acropolis, proclaiming that
ultimate power and salvation belonged to him. Asklepios, the famed healing god, was symbolized by a serpent-entwined staff still used in medical imagery today; his worshipers sought restoration and life from him. Athena embodied wisdom and civic strength, reinforcing Pergamum’s intellectual pride. Dionysos promised joy through wine, feasting, and sensual excess, blurring the line between celebration and corruption. And over all of it stood the emperor, honored as lord and savior, demanding allegiance that directly rivaled the confession that Jesus alone is Lord. Robert Mounce, in his commentary on Revelation, wrote: “...as the traveler approached Pergamum by the ancient road from the south, the actual shape of the city hill would appear as a giant throne towering above the plain.” This is probably why Jesus refers to the city as the place, “where Satan’s throne is.”
But against Pergamum’s skyline of rival saviors stands the living Christ. Zeus claimed ultimate power, but Jesus is the One to whom all authority in heaven and on earth belongs. Asklepios promised healing through a serpent’s symbol, but Jesus crushed the serpent’s head and, as the risen Lord, conquered death, giving eternal life to all who believe. Athena embodied worldly wisdom and pride, but Christ is the wisdom of God made flesh, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. Dionysos offered joy through indulgence, but Jesus gives the true bread from heaven that satisfies forever. Caesar demanded worship as lord and savior, but only Jesus shed His blood to redeem sinners and now reigns as the King of kings. Pergamum was filled with promises of power, healing, wisdom, pleasure, and security — but only the gospel delivers what these gods could only counterfeit.
Jesus commends these believers despite the immense pressure around them: “Yet you hold fast my name, and you did not deny my faith…” They lived in a city crowded with rival saviors, yet they clung to Christ. Though we are not told the exact circumstances of Antipas’ death, it is not hard to imagine how it unfolded. He likely died by the blade of a Roman sword for refusing
to bend his knee to the gods of Rome or to confess Caesar as lord. He would bow to only one name — the name above every name — Jesus Christ. And it is this man, Antipas — executed by Rome, forgotten by the empire — whom Jesus calls “my faithful witness.”
We know from Roman records that this was the very test Christians faced. About twenty years after Revelation was written, the governor Pliny the Younger explained that accused Christians could avoid execution by invoking the Roman gods, offering incense to Caesar, and cursing the
name of Christ. Those who refused were executed. He even admitted that genuine Christians could not be compelled to curse Christ.
When Jesus praises these Christians — “Yet you hold fast my name, and you did not deny my faith” — His words are not cheap; they are costly. To hold fast His name meant refusing to renounce it when your life was on the line. Rome took Antipas’ life, but Jesus rendered the greater verdict — the very title He bears Himself: “my faithful witness” (see Rev. 1:5).
The kind of faithfulness Antipas demonstrated in the face of death is the same faithfulness we are all called to — whether suffering comes in the form of persecution or in circumstances beyond our control, such as illness, discouragement, or a life that did not unfold as we had hoped. Faithfulness is not measured by the kind of suffering we face, but by the Christ to whom we cling.
And we cling to Him by looking to Jesus, “the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God” (Heb. 12:2).
Dangers from the Inside (vv. 14-15)
While the dangers from the outside were real, the greater threat was emerging from within. The Christians in Pergamum had stood firm against persecution, but they were less vigilant in confronting compromise within the church. Some adhered to the teaching of Balaam, and others to the teachings of the Nicolaitans. Though these errors shared similarities, they must be considered individually.
To grasp the true danger here, we need to recall Balaam’s actions. In Numbers 22–25, Balak, king of Moab, enlisted Balaam to curse Israel, but God turned every attempted curse into a blessing. When outright opposition failed, Balaam changed tactics. As Numbers 31:16 reveals, he counseled Moab to entice the Israelites — drawing them into idolatry and sexual immorality through seductive feasts and relationships with pagan women. What Balaam could not accomplish through direct attack, he achieved through compromise. Israel was not destroyed by an enemy from without but by corruption from within. Here is what Balaam was guilty of:
He lingered where God had already told him not to go.
He pursued recognition and reward at the expense of God’s honor and the holiness of His people.
He walked as close to temptation as he could without openly defying God. 4. His obedience was reluctant because his heart was drawn to what God forbade.
Balaam’s problem was not ignorance but desire. He lingered where God had already told him not to go. He pursued recognition and reward at the expense of God’s glory and the holiness of His people. He walked as close to temptation as he could without openly defying God. And though he spoke God’s words, his obedience was reluctant because his heart was drawn to what God had forbidden.
This is why Jesus references Balaam. The problem in Pergamum wasn’t an outright rejection of Christ but a willingness to tolerate compromise. Some believed they could remain committed to Jesus while engaging in behaviors God had already forbidden. Compromise rarely starts with denial—it begins when we linger where God has said “no,” chase comfort or recognition over holiness, and edge as close as possible to temptation without openly defying Him. We shouldn’t think we’re exempt; this same risk exists in every congregation—even Meadowbrooke.
Whenever we treat God’s commands as optional or hover near what He prohibits, we’re at risk of the compromise Jesus warns us against.
The second thing Jesus has against the church in Pergamum is that some adhered to the teaching of the Nicolaitans. As we learned from the letter to the church in Ephesus, Jesus says He hated their works (2:6). What about their teaching provoked such strong language? They promoted a compromise similar to Balaam’s — the idea that one could claim to belong to God’s people while participating in the very sins God had clearly forbidden. The Nicolaitans appear to have encouraged Christians to join in idolatrous feasts and sexual immorality, likely arguing that God’s grace covered such behavior. In their view, holiness became flexible and obedience negotiable.
Listen, the spirit of the Nicolaitans is alive wherever Christians rationalize that blending in with culture poses no danger, that hidden sin is under control, or that God’s grace permits what He has clearly condemned. If we downplay sin, treat God’s commands as negotiable, or blur the boundaries between wholehearted faithfulness and self-indulgence, we risk falling into the same compromise Jesus warns against.
Why does Jesus name both Balaam and the Nicolaitans in His rebuke? Because Balaam enticed God’s people into sin, and the Nicolaitans justified their continued presence in it. Those who held to these teachings were not outside the church but within it, and the ideas they embraced posed an immediate and dangerous threat to its spiritual health.
The Danger of a Greater Sword (vv. 12, 16-17)
Jesus takes the purity of His Bride seriously. The dangers from the outside were real, but all Rome was able to do with its sword was to kill and no more. The dangers within were more significant because they threatened the witness, testimony, and mission of the church.
Listen, with the martyrdom of Antipas, his witness and testimony continued. His willingness to die for his faith and to stand in the security of Christ, even in the face of death, continued to speak even beyond Antipas’ death. What the early Christian apologist Tertullian wrote in 197 AD is true: “The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church.”
Persecution may wound the body, but it often strengthens the church. Compromise, however, weakens and destroys the church from within.
If Satan can infiltrate the church through subtle, subversive teaching — persuading believers to tolerate what God forbids and to justify what Christ condemns — then the church’s witness is not martyred; it is muted. Its testimony is not silenced by force; it is weakened by concession. What Rome could not accomplish with a sword from without, false teaching seeks to achieve from within.
Jesus is madly in love with His Bride and will protect Her when She is threatened. He is also a jealous Groom and will not tolerate any force or teaching that seeks to win Her affections. This is why Jesus “hates the works of the Nicolaitans” (2:5)! The Nicolaitans offered a perverted version of the Grace that Jesus secured at the cross, teaching that the freedom they had in Christ freed them from obedience to Jesus regarding personal holiness and sexual sin. Jesus calls the Christians in this church to repent by both calling out the false teaching and standing against it.
Jesus warns this church that if they do not repent, He will come to “war against them” with the sword of His mouth. That is sobering language, but it is not unloving. It is not loving to overlook sin in your own life, nor is it loving to tolerate sin in the life of Christ’s church. This is why the Bible states in James 5:19–20, “My brothers, if anyone among you wanders from the truth and someone brings him back, let him know that whoever brings back a sinner from his wandering will save his soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins.”
Indifference to sin is not grace — it is neglect. A Savior who refuses to confront what destroys His Bride would not be loving. The sword of Christ is not the weapon of a tyrant but the discipline of a faithful Bridegroom committed to the purity of His people.
Take a close look at Jesus’ words in verse 16: “Therefore repent. If not, I will come to you soon and war against them with the sword of my mouth.” That is not a casual warning; it is a decisive command. If they refused to turn from their sin and false teaching, it would not merely expose weakness — it would reveal they never truly belonged to Him or experienced the saving grace that brings new life. Saving grace does not leave a person at peace with sin; it creates an urgency to cling to Christ. Where Christ truly reigns, repentance follows.
Now notice verse 17. The sword is not the only thing Jesus offers. He promises that the one who has truly received Him as Savior — evidenced by firmly holding fast to His name — will be sustained and kept by Him. The true Christian is promised three things: hidden manna, a white stone, and a new name.
The manna is for those who hunger and thirst for righteousness (Matt. 5:6). In a city filled with public feasts honoring false gods, Jesus promises hidden nourishment — provision the world cannot see and idols cannot give. The white stone likely referred in the Roman world to a token of admission, acquittal, or honor. But the stone Jesus gives is not temporary; it signifies divine acceptance and permanent residence in His kingdom, where there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus (Rom. 8:1).
And on that stone is a new name — a name given by Christ Himself — belonging to the one who receives it. That new name speaks to your identity in Christ, an identity no sword, no demon, not even Satan himself can take from you. On that stone is the evidence of your redemption. Its meaning echoes the words of our Redeemer: “You must dwell as mine for many days. You shall not play the whore, or belong to another man; so will I also be to you” (Hos. 3:3).
Persecution may wound the church, but compromise will hollow it out. Rome’s sword can threaten the body, but Christ’s Word searches the heart. So hold fast to His name. Repent without delay. Refuse to justify what He condemns and to flirt with what He died to free you from. Live as those who belong to Him alone — nourished by hidden manna, accepted by His verdict, and secure in the name He has written over your life.

Sunday Feb 15, 2026
Sunday Feb 15, 2026
Smyrna wore its grandeur like a crown. Proudly calling itself the “Pride of Asia,” it was fiercely loyal to Rome and a leading center of emperor worship. To live in Smyrna was to participate in public allegiance to Caesar—offering incense and declaring, “Caesar is Lord.” For most citizens, this was routine patriotism. For Christians, it was impossible. Worship belonged to Jesus alone. Refusing meant suspicion, social exclusion, economic hardship, and sometimes imprisonment or death. In such a city, neutrality was not an option. Faithfulness to Christ came at a cost. Into that setting, Jesus speaks.
He does not deny their suffering. He does not promise immediate relief. Instead, He reveals Himself. Before He commands anything, He reminds them of who He is. Their present affliction must be understood in light of His sovereign authority and His victory over death. What appears as weakness in Smyrna will be measured very differently in heaven.
Now, remember what I said last week: I am convinced the seven Jewish feasts provide a theological framework for understanding Revelation’s structure. In Revelation 1, we hear the echo of Passover — Jesus revealed as the One who died and is alive forevermore (1:17–18), our true Passover Lamb whose blood has redeemed His people. In Revelation 2–3, the echo shifts to the Feast of Unleavened Bread. For seven days, leaven was removed from the home, symbolizing the call to holiness among a redeemed people. As Paul writes, “A little leaven leavens the whole lump” (Gal. 5:9). Christ calls His churches to remove what corrupts.
But what happens when there is no rebuke? What happens when suffering itself becomes the refining fire? That is where we now turn our attention.
There Is None Greater Than Jesus (v. 8)
The greeting this church receives is meant to steady trembling hearts: “And to the angel of the church in Smyrna write: ‘The words of the first and the last, who died and came to life.’” Do you remember when Jesus came to the disciples walking on the Sea of Galilee around three in the morning (Matt. 14:22–33)? They were fighting wind and waves and were terrified when they saw Him. Jesus said, “Take heart; it is I. Do not be afraid” (Matt. 14:27). Peter asked that if it was Jesus, He call him to come. Jesus did call Peter, and he stepped out of the boat and walked on water as long as his eyes were fixed on Christ, but when he looked at the wind and the waves, he began to sink. So long as Peter’s eyes were on Jesus, he was stable; when he focused on the storm, he sank. The opening greeting to Smyrna functions like a lighthouse.
Before Jesus speaks about imprisonment and death, He reminds them who is speaking: He is the first and the last, He died and is alive, and He has spoken (Rev. 2:8).
Jesus is “the first and the last” because He is infinitely sovereign. To be infinite is to be without end; to be infinitely sovereign is to reign without borders. There are no limits to His authority. This title did not originate here. We heard it earlier in Revelation, and the book closes with it: “I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end” (Rev. 22:13). Isaiah declared the same truth: “I, the LORD, the first, and with the last; I am He,” (Isa. 41:4) and again, “I am the first and I am the last; besides me there is no god” (Isa. 44:6; 48:12). Jesus bears the name of Yahweh because Jesus is God. There is only one sovereign over creation — and it is certainly not Caesar.
Jesus is the One who died and is alive again because He is the only qualified Redeemer. He understands suffering because He suffered. The apostle Peter wrote, “For Christ also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh but made alive in the spirit” (1 Pet. 3:18). Why would Jesus remind the suffering church in Smyrna of His own suffering? Was it to prove He suffered more than they did? Was it to silence their pain by comparison? No. He reminded them of His death and resurrection to assure them that their suffering did not mean abandonment. If the Father did not spare His own Son, then their present affliction could not mean divine neglect. As Paul wrote to the Romans, “What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?” (Rom. 8:31-32).
If Jesus was slaughtered for their redemption, then their suffering cannot mean that He has forsaken them, forgotten them, or been negligent in His care. Jesus experienced death and bore the full measure of the Father’s wrath on the cross. He knew slander, rejection, and violence. He entered fully into the hostility of this world and identified with His persecuted people. Jesus died, but He did not remain in the grave. He conquered death when He rose on the third day. He crushed the serpent’s head, defanged death, and secured the victory. Because He lives, those who belong to Him will never be abandoned by Him. As the apostle Paul wrote, “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? … No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us.” (Rom. 8:35, 37).
The Jesus who is God and who redeemed these dear, suffering saints is the very One who now speaks to reassure them. He is no idol or myth. He is not limited like Rome’s Caesar. He alone is the first and the last, who died and came to life. It is He who speaks to His church because He has not abandoned them. It is He who walks among His churches.
When suffering comes, you need to focus your attention on the One who is infinitely greater than all your suffering, pain, and discouragement.
There Is No Security Greater Than What Jesus Brings (v. 9)
The One who walks among His lampstands knows all that His church is going through. Regarding the church in Smyrna, Jesus knew exactly what they were experiencing. Listen to His words: “I know your tribulation and your poverty (but you are rich) and the slander of those who say that they are Jews and are not, but are a synagogue of Satan.” When we consider the letter as a whole, it becomes clear that their tribulation touched every aspect of life. In every sphere—physical, material, and social—they faced profound hardship. Yet Christ’s acknowledgment assures them that none of their pain escapes His sovereign notice.
Jesus knew (oida)1their tribulation (thlipsis)2, the crushing pressure bearing down on them from the world around them. Their affliction likely touched both wealth and health. Because of their witness as followers of Christ, they most likely lost jobs, inheritance, homes, and social standing. Before meeting Jesus, they had the security of family networks and communal identity. But their redemption came at a cost. Allegiance to Christ resulted in economic and social poverty. Yet while they were poor in the eyes of the world, Jesus declares that they were rich. How can that be? How can you be materially destitute and yet spiritually wealthy before God?
To the Corinthians, Paul provides the answer: “For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich.” (2 Cor. 8:9). Their riches were not measured in coin or property but in union with Christ. Because they belonged to Jesus, they belonged to a Kingdom that would outlast Rome and outshine its treasures. This is what motivated Moses to forsake Egypt: “By faith Moses… refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter, choosing rather to be mistreated with the people of God than to enjoy the fleeting pleasures of sin. He considered the reproach of Christ greater wealth than the treasures of Egypt, for he was looking to the reward.” (Heb. 11:24–26). Moses saw something better. He looked beyond present loss to an eternal inheritance.
And that inheritance belongs to every believer. Paul writes, “In him we have obtained an inheritance, having been predestined according to the purpose of him who works all things according to the counsel of his will, so that we who were the first to hope in Christ might be to the praise of his glory.” (Eph. 1:11–12). What was true for the Christians in Ephesus was equally true for those suffering in Smyrna. Their inheritance did not come through ethnicity, Abrahamic lineage, or possession of the Law. It came exclusively through Jesus Christ. Nothing in this world can strip away what God Himself has secured. Their assurance rested here: “In Him you also… were sealed with the promised Holy Spirit, who is the guarantee of our inheritance until we acquire possession of it, to the praise of His glory.” (Eph. 1:13–14).
1 Oida (οἶδα): Know; understand; recognize; come to know; experience; aware.
2 Thlipsis (θλῖψις): Affliction; distress; oppression; trouble; tribulation.
The Jews responsible for their slander and exclusion prided themselves on their ethnic connection to the promises given to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. They assumed that belonging to one of the twelve tribes meant automatic belonging to God. But they misunderstood the promise. The covenant with Abraham was never about a single nation existing for itself; it was about blessing the nations through One who would fulfill Israel’s calling—the true and better Israel, Jesus Christ. Salvation has always been about one redeemed people made up of Jew and Gentile alike. As Paul wrote, “But a Jew is one inwardly, and circumcision is a matter of the heart, by the Spirit, not by the letter. His praise is not from man but from God.” (Rom. 2:29).
Throughout Revelation, you will discover that there are only two types of people: those who belong to God and bear His seal, and those who do not and bear another seal. Those who belong to God have received another type of circumcision, known as the circumcision of the heart, and are redeemed by the blood of the true Lamb and sealed by the Holy Spirit.
There Is No Loss Greater Than the Life Jesus Guarantees (v. 10)
There are only two places in Revelation where Jesus explicitly commands His people not to fear. The first is in Revelation 1:17: “Fear not, I am the first and the last, and the living one. I died, and behold I am alive forevermore…” (Rev. 1:17). The second is in Revelation 2:10: “Do not fear what you are about to suffer.” (Rev. 2:10). Do not miss what Jesus is communicating to these suffering Christians. First, their suffering would come from Satan. Second, it would be permitted and governed by Jesus. Third, it would ultimately serve their greater good.
The Christians in Smyrna had already suffered for their faith in Christ, having counted the cost of discipleship. Jesus warned that following Him could mean losing even family and personal comfort (Luke 14:26–27). They accepted these sacrifices, but greater trials were coming—the gospel would soon exact a physical cost. Their suffering stemmed from their genuine faith, as Jesus foretold: “The devil is about to throw some of you into prison, that you may be tested” (Rev. 2:10). Although Satan was the agent of their hardship, God remained sovereign. Jesus assured them not to fear, for they were already rich in His love and protection. He promised, “I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand” (John 10:27–29).
The devil may use human instruments to harm, slander, imprison, and even kill them. But he cannot steal what belongs to God. He may be permitted to wound them in this life, but he cannot touch their inheritance. Jesus warned His followers long ago, “You will be delivered up even by parents and brothers and relatives and friends, and some of you they will put to death. You will be hated by all for my name’s sake. But not a hair of your head will perish.” (Luke 21:16–18).
What can the devil really do to the Christian? He can stir up opposition. He can incite slander. He can use willing instruments to wound, imprison, and even kill the body. But he can only touch
what is temporal, and even that only by permission. He cannot lay a finger on what belongs to God without divine approval, and he has no authority over the promises of God. He cannot revoke your adoption. He cannot cancel your inheritance. He cannot separate you from Christ. He may rage, but he does not rule. Satan is on a leash. The duration is set.
How do I know this? Because of how Jesus describes the “tribulation.” It will test them, and it is limited to no more than ten days. In Scripture, ten often signifies fullness and authority under God’s rule — seen in the Ten Commandments, the ten plagues, and even in Jesus’ parables. In Revelation, however, ten represents the full yet limited extent of earthly power permitted by God. So when Jesus says they will suffer for “ten days,” (Rev. 2:10) He is not minimizing their pain; He is assuring them that their suffering will be real but measured, complete but controlled, and bounded by His sovereign authority.
The ten days are not merely about the specific suffering Satan was permitted to inflict on Smyrna. They teach us about all suffering under the sovereign hand of God. Your disease — ten days and no more. Your difficult marriage — ten days and no more. The wayward child — ten days and no more. Your shattered hopes and broken dreams — ten days and no more. Your tears, your laments, your groaning — ten days and no more. Not ten literal days, but ten appointed days. Measured days. Numbered days. Days that cannot extend beyond what your Father has ordained. There is purpose in your pain. There is design in your distress. There is a boundary your suffering cannot cross. Its purpose is to deepen and refine your faith, drawing you into greater intimacy with Christ and shaping you into the holiness to which you have been called.
At the end of it all stands an inheritance—the crown of life. This is the same crown James speaks of: “Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him” (Jas. 1:12). Steadfast endurance under trial is not the cause of salvation but the evidence of new birth. For the true Christian, there is no greater treasure than Jesus Himself.

Monday Feb 09, 2026
Monday Feb 09, 2026
I believe the book of Revelation is intentionally shaped by the rhythm of the seven Jewish feasts, with deep echoes of the Exodus and Israel’s wilderness journey woven throughout its visions. We have already seen how this works in chapter 1, where the imagery echoes Passover. Passover marked Israel’s deliverance from slavery through the blood of a substitute—and in Revelation 1:12–16, that substitute is revealed in all His risen glory. Jesus stands among His churches as the victorious Lamb who was slain and now lives forever.
Because of His sacrifice, the Christian belongs to God. If you have been redeemed by Almighty God through His Son, what is there to fear? Jesus Himself answers that question: “Fear not, I am the first and the last, and the living one. I died, and behold I am alive forevermore, and I have the keys of Death and Hades” (Rev. 1:17–18). Our confidence is not rooted in our circumstances, but in the One who has conquered death itself.
As we move into Revelation 2–3 and read the seven letters to the churches, the dominant echo is the Feast of Unleavened Bread, which immediately followed Passover. This feast called God’s redeemed people to live holy lives, set apart for Him (Lev. 11:44–45; 1 Pet. 1:16–17). Israel removed all leaven from their homes as a visible reminder that they belonged to the Lord and were no longer to live under the old patterns of corruption. That same call still comes to us today: “You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body” (1 Cor. 6:19–20).
Each of the seven churches faced real and pressing challenges in their own day—and what they struggled with are many of the same things we struggle with today, just dressed differently. While we will look at each church individually, here is a brief snapshot of what we will encounter:
The church in Ephesus had lost its first love.
The church in Smyrna was about to suffer “tribulation” for ten days.
The church in Pergamum struggled with faithfulness to sound doctrine. • The church in Thyatira tolerated a false teacher within the congregation. • The church in Sardis was spiritually lethargic and nearly dead.
The church in Philadelphia faithfully clung to the word of God.
The church in Laodicea was lukewarm and missionally useless.
In every one of these churches, there was the danger of leaven—sin quietly working its way through the house. And the call of Christ was to remove it: through renewed love for Jesus and for one another, faithful endurance in suffering, a commitment to truth, intolerance for evil, vigilance against spiritual apathy, unflinching obedience to Christ, and a wholehearted devotion to the mission of God.
About forty years before Revelation was written, Paul wrote about God’s expectation for His church: “Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children. And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God” (Eph. 5:1-2). Revelation 1 is about the One who makes our salvation possible. Revelation 2-3 addresses the kind of people He calls us to be. So, when we come to Revelation 4, we encounter the One on the throne who is holy, holy, holy!
The City of Ephesus
When the gospel came to Ephesus, it was a wealthy and influential trading city, best known for the Temple of Artemis (also called Diana), one of the seven wonders of the ancient world. The city’s economy, culture, and moral life centered on the worship of this goddess. Artemis worship was deeply sexualized and demonic, marked by ritual immorality and idolatry (1 Cor. 10:20). Ephesus was a place where spiritual darkness was not hidden—it was celebrated, institutionalized, and profitable.
Into this city, the gospel came with unmistakable power, as it always does in God’s timing and in His way. What we read in the epistle to the Romans was experienced in Ephesus: “For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes...” (Rom. 1:16). When the apostle Paul preached Christ in Ephesus, lives were transformed, and the worship of Artemis was directly challenged. So disruptive was the gospel that those who profited from idolatry feared economic collapse, admitting that Paul had persuaded many that “gods made with hands are not gods at all” (Acts 19:26). Paul spent over two years there, and in this spiritually hostile environment, God birthed a faithful church—the same church later addressed by Christ Himself in Revelation 2. What makes Jesus’ words to Ephesus so sobering is not the city’s darkness but the fact that a church born in such devotion, perseverance, and truth would later be warned: “You have abandoned the love you had at first” (2:4).
So what happened? To answer that question, we need to first recognize the many things Jesus praises the church for.
What the Ephesian Church Was Doing Right
The Ephesian church was commended for many things by Jesus such as their toil, patient endurance, and intolerance for evil. Heraclitus, a native of Ephesus and philosopher, spoke with open contempt of his city’s moral corruption—so severe that later writers summarized his view by saying no one could live in Ephesus without weeping.1 The fact that the church was able to endure for forty years in a city known for its sexual promiscuity and demonized idolatrous worship, while holding on to biblical orthodoxy, is staggering!
Because of their orthodoxy and fidelity to the Word of God, the church was intolerant of evil, refused to ignore false teachers, and shared Jesus’s hatred of the Nicolaitans. Forty years earlier, Paul warned the elders of the Ephesian church: “I know that after my departure fierce wolves will come in among you, not sparing the flock; and from among your own selves will arise men speaking twisted things, to draw away the disciples after them. Therefore be alert, remembering that for three years I did not cease night or day to admonish every one with tears” (Acts. 20:29-31). This is what the church did well, and Jesus praised them for it.
Now, notice what Jesus does not say to the church in Ephesus. He does not say they were being too orthodox. He does not say they were too truthful, or that their intolerance of evil, false teachers, and the works of the Nicolaitans was too extreme. Jesus does not tell the church to dial it back but instead celebrates these as examples of what they were doing well. What the church did well was refusing to yield to the pressures from their city to conform.
Before we look at what the church got wrong, we need to address who the Nicolaitans were and why Jesus hated their teaching. From what we know, the Nicolaitans were a heretical “Christian” sect associated with the teaching of Balaam (Rev. 2:14-15). They taught that the grace of God permitted freedom to engage in the kinds of things their pagan neighbors enjoyed, such as sexual immorality and full participation in pagan temple feasts. Why? Because grace covered it all.
We will come back to Balaam when we look at the church in Pergamum, but for now what you need to know is that Balaam is known for his false teaching that served to seduce the men of Israel to engage in sexual immorality with the daughters of Moab that also resulted in the worship of their gods in place of obedience and worship of Yahweh (see Num. 25). The Nicolaitans did not deny Jesus, they just reinterpreted what obedience to Jesus really meant, in that you could both be loyal to Jesus and actively pursue and participate in the kinds of things the Word of God commands the people of God to flee from. The Ephesian church was rightfully commended for their hatred and intolerance of the works of the Nicolaitans because Jesus shares their hatred for the same reasons.
Listen carefully. Jesus does not merely disagree with teachings of the Nicolaitans— He hates them. He hates any belief that suggests a person can remain loyal to Him while willfully embracing the very sins He died to free us from. The cross was not a license to make peace with sin; it was God’s declaration of war against it. To claim Christ while pursuing what nailed Him to the tree is not freedom—it is self-deception. Christ did not die to make sin safe, but to make His people holy.
1 Richard D. Phillips, Revelation, ed. Richard D. Phillips, Philip Graham Ryken, and Daniel M. Doriani, Reformed Expository Commentary (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 2017), 91.
What the Ephesian Church Got Wrong
So what was it that the church in Ephesus lost? Well, we know it wasn’t the church’s orthodoxy. It was the love they had at first. What love did they have at first? I believe the love the church lost was a combination of their love for Jesus and others. I believe this because of what the apostle Paul wrote in his epistle to the Ephesians and what Jesus said the church needed to do to regain the love they had lost. First, let’s look at Jesus’ criticism in verses 4-5, “But I have this against you, that you have abandoned the love you had at first. Remember therefore from where you have fallen; repent, and do the works you did at first. If not, I will come to you and remove your lampstand from its place, unless you repent.”
The way back to regain what they had lost was to first remember where they had fallen or had lost sight of their love, then to repent by doing the works they had done at first. What were the works they had done at first? We are given a few clues in Ephesians about the church from what Paul says at the beginning and the end of his epistle to the Ephesians.
1st Clue: “For this reason, because I have heard of your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love toward all the saints, I do not cease to give thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers...” (Eph. 1:15-16)
2nd Clue: “Grace be with all who love our Lord Jesus Christ with love incorruptible.” (Eph. 6:24)
I believe that the love the Ephesian church lost had to do with the love they had for Jesus and for one another. The New Living Translation captures this in their translation of Revelation 2:4, “But I have this complaint against you. You don’t love me or each other as you did at first!”
When a group of religious leaders asked Jesus to identify the most important commandment, His response was clear: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind. This is the greatest and first commandment. And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself” (Matthew 22:37–39). Genuine love for God leads to love for others—you cannot claim to love
God while refusing to love those who bear His image. As our love for God grows, it overflows into love for those around us, especially our brothers and sisters in Christ. If you find this hard to accept, consider the words of the apostle John: “If someone says, ‘I love God,’ but hates his brother, that person is a liar; for anyone who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen” (1 John 4:20).
I believe the Ephesian church, first known for their faith in Jesus and their incorruptible love for Him, became the catalyst that fostered in them a love for one another, which they were known for in the early days of the church’s existence. Their love infused their faith in Jesus, and their love for all the saints was the cocktail God used to push back evil and transform lives!
What Revelation 2:1-4 teaches us is that Jesus wants our obedience, but He also wants our hearts! In fact, if Jesus has your heart, He will have your obedience.
Conclusion
I believe the Ephesian church is listed first among the seven churches because of the danger we face when what we believe and what we do are no longer tethered to a living love for Jesus and His people.
Listen carefully. Rather than criticizing the Ephesian church for its zeal for the truth of God’s Word, Jesus praised them for it. Orthodoxy is essential to the spiritual health of both Christians and the church as a whole. When believers abandon orthodoxy, spirituality does not become freer or deeper—it becomes hollow and lifeless. So do their churches. But love keeps orthodoxy from hardening into something Jesus also hated. When truth is severed from love, orthodoxy collapses into legalism. And legalism is not holiness; it is a corruption of orthopraxy—right living.
Christian, we are called to be holy as our heavenly Father is holy. Scripture commands us: “As obedient children, do not be conformed to the passions of your former ignorance, but as he who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct, since it is written, ‘You shall be holy, for I am holy’” (1 Pet. 1:14–16). But the way we pursue holiness is not through cold precision or moral superiority. It is through the kind of love the Ephesian church once had—and then lost. This is the first of seven ways Christ calls His people to cleanse His house of leaven.
What is that love? Scripture defines it plainly: “Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude… it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth… Love never ends” (1 Cor. 13:4–8). This is the love Jesus spoke of that must be true of His followers: “By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:35).
We live in a nation deeply fractured—so fractured that many believe we are in a cold civil war. Civil conversation between the left and the right is nearly impossible. But it must not be that way in the church Jesus redeemed from the world. Our love for Christ must overflow into genuine love for one another—strong enough to allow disagreement without division, conviction without contempt, and truth without hatred.
Let me take this one step further. If you love the Jesus who died to ransom people from every tribe, language, people, and nation, then you must be liberated from the partisan blindness that grips both the left and the right. Christian, you belong to another kingdom. Your allegiance is not to a political ideology but to King Jesus. Please hear me: the world will not see, hear, or receive the gospel from the left or the right—but only from Jesus Christ Himself. By God’s design, His gospel is not entrusted to government but to His church. The mess in the White House, our nation, and the world is evidence that what people need is the One who makes the Gospel the Gospel—namely, Jesus!
If you cannot see that—if you cannot believe that while still calling yourself a Christian—then you are in danger of the very thing that threatened the church in Ephesus. You have lost your first love.
So I leave you with the same words Jesus spoke to them: “He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To the one who conquers I will grant to eat of the tree of life, which is in the paradise of God.”

Sunday Feb 01, 2026
Sunday Feb 01, 2026
Permit me to share a story from my own experience that helps explain why it took me so long to preach a sermon series on the book of Revelation. When I was twenty-eight, I had been ordained as a minister of the gospel only a short time earlier and was serving as an interim pastor at Calvary Baptist Church, a congregation of roughly three hundred people. The church was struggling. Years of poor leadership decisions and the dismissal of one of its senior pastors had left it in a fragile state. I was young, inexperienced, and keenly aware that I had far more to learn than to offer.
When Calvary eventually called its next senior pastor—whom I will refer to as “Bob”—he inherited both me and another assistant pastor. Less than a year into his tenure, Bob called me into his office to discuss my future. He asked what I hoped for in ministry, and I told him I planned to finish seminary and learn as much as I could from him, given his decades of pastoral experience. Then, without warning, he asked me what I believed about the rapture. Caught off guard, I answered honestly: I believed Christ would return for His people, but I was not yet certain whether that would be before, during, or after the tribulation. Bob paused, looked at me, and said simply, “Well, that’s a problem.”
It was a problem because Calvary’s doctrinal statement treated a pre-tribulation rapture not as a point of discussion, but as a nonnegotiable. One passage often cited in support of that view is 1 Thessalonians 5:9—“For God has not destined us for wrath, but to obtain salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ.” Yet the “wrath” Paul describes there is not the suffering believers endure in this world, but the final judgment reserved for the condemned. That conversation marked me deeply. It revealed how quickly the book of Revelation—and the questions surrounding it—can become a test of loyalty rather than a call to faithfulness. And it helps explain why I approached Revelation for so many years with caution, hesitation, and no small measure of pastoral concern.
Suffering (Tribulation) is a Part of the Christian Life (v. 9)
What troubled me about Pastor Bob and the doctrinal statement Calvary Baptist Church has since removed is that this view is difficult to reconcile with Jesus’ own teaching on what Christians should expect as His followers. Jesus said plainly, “You will be hated by all for my name’s sake” (Matt. 10:22). And again, “In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).
The apostles echoed the same expectation. Paul warned new believers, “Through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God” just after he was stoned and left for dead outside of the city of Lystra (Acts 14:22). Peter likewise urged Christians not to be shocked by suffering, but to see it as participation in Christ’s own path: “Do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you… rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings” (1 Pet. 4:12–13).
The word tribulation simply means affliction. In Revelation, tribulation is never portrayed as some vague or theoretical idea, but as a real and immediate experience for faithful believers.1It is the context of John’s exile, the churches’ suffering, and the cry of the martyrs. Tribulation is the setting in which the church endures, bears witness, and waits for Christ’s victory.
Let me press this one step further. In Matthew 24, Jesus warned His disciples, “And you will hear of wars and rumors of wars. See that you are not alarmed, for this must take place, but the end is not yet. For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom, and there will be famines and earthquakes in various places. All these are but the beginning
of the birth pains” (vv. 6–8). Then He said,
“They will deliver you up to tribulation and put you to death, and you will be hated by all nations for my name’s sake. And then many will fall away and betray one another and hate one another. And many false prophets will arise and lead many astray. And because lawlessness will be increased, the love of many will grow cold. But the one who endures to the end will be saved. And this gospel of the kingdom will be proclaimed throughout the whole world as a testimony to all nations, and then the end will come” (vv. 9–14).
Jesus then went on to prophesy about events we know with certainty occurred in AD 70: “So when you see the abomination of desolation spoken of by the prophet Daniel, standing in the holy place (let the reader understand), then let those who are in Judea flee to the mountains… For then there will be great tribulation, such as has not been from the beginning of the world until now, no, and never will be” (vv. 15–21).
History records that everything Jesus warned would happen did, in fact, occur. Roman soldiers under Titus breached Jerusalem, entered the temple, slaughtered priests while sacrifices were being offered, piled bodies in the sanctuary, erected pagan images, and offered sacrifices to Roman gods, including sacrifices to the emperor himself. The temple was dismantled stone by stone, fulfilling Jesus’ words: “Truly, I say to you, there will not be left here one stone upon another that will not be thrown down” (Matt. 24:2).
John lived through those events. More than twenty years later, he wrote to seven churches not as a distant observer but as a participant: “I, John, your brother and partner in the tribulation and the kingdom and the patient endurance that are in Jesus, was on the island called Patmos on account of the word of God and the testimony of Jesus.” The question to consider until we reach Revelation 6 is: What tribulation is John participating in? The persecution of Christians didn’t end in AD 70. What began as local opposition has become global. Some regions where the gospel once flourished—such as North Korea and Nigeria—are now among the most dangerous for Christians. A challenging reality of the Christian life is that faithfulness to Jesus often leads to suffering. John introduces himself not as an exception, but as a fellow participant in this tribulation.
Whatever view of the tribulation you currently hold, know that John and the first-century church were convinced they were living in it—not as a fixed or future timetable, but as a present season of suffering that began with Christ’s ascension and will end only with His return.
Jesus Will Not Abandon the Christian in Life (vv. 9-16)
When John received his visions, it was on the Lord’s Day. Before anything was revealed about God’s plan for the world, it was a day set apart for worship. Many believe this is the earliest technical use of the Lord’s Day to refer to Sunday—the day of Christ’s resurrection and the dawn of the new creation. What is most significant is that John hears from the Lord while worshiping the Lord.
While in a state of worship, John hears a loud voice behind him like a trumpet. This recalls Sinai, where we are told, “there were thunders and lightnings… and a very loud trumpet blast, so that all the people in the camp trembled” (Exod. 19:16). The trumpet-like voice commands John: “Write what you see in a book and send it to the seven churches” (v. 11). When John turns, he does not see a trumpet, but seven golden lampstands, and “in the midst of the lampstands one like a son of man” (v. 12).
Do not miss the significance: the lampstands represent the churches (v. 20), and Jesus stands in their midst. The Greek word mesos means among and in the middle. In other words, in the midst of tribulation and suffering, Jesus has not abandoned His people. This is the fulfillment of His promise: “Behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age” (Matt. 28:20).
The long golden sash Jesus wears is that of a priest (cf. Exod. 28:4; 29:5). His golden sash is not a fashion statement but a firm reminder that He is our great High Priest, who intercedes on our behalf as the One who advocates for all those He has redeemed through the shedding of His blood once and for all. As Hebrews 7 tells us, “He holds his priesthood permanently, because he continues forever. Consequently, he is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them” (vv. 24–25).
The hairs on Jesus’ head are white like the whitest wool, as Daniel describes the Ancient of Days: “His clothing was white as snow, and the hair of his head like pure wool; his throne was fiery flames; its wheels were burning fire” (Dan. 7:9). Here Jesus is identified with eternal wisdom and divine purity—equal with the Father, yet uniquely the Son. He is the Everlasting One, and His wisdom is infinite.
Jesus’ eyes are like a flame of fire. This does not mean He has literal beams shooting from His eyes any more than the sharp two-edged sword from His mouth is a literal sword (v. 16). His eyes blaze like fire, revealing that nothing escapes His sight—no motive hidden, no deed overlooked, and no wound His people suffer that will go unnoticed. His knowledge knows no bounds.
Our Savior’s feet are like burnished bronze. There is no tiptoeing with Him. Our great High Priest and awesome King embodies unshakable strength as the One who will judge the nations with perfect justice and holy resolve. He is omnipotent—solid, sure, and infinitely strong.
The voice of our Savior matches His divine wisdom, all-encompassing knowledge, and unequalled strength as Yahweh. When He speaks, He does so with pervasive power: “For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through him and for him” (Col. 1:16). His word—every word—carries divine weight.
Why does this matter in light of what John and the churches suffered? Why does this matter for your brothers and sisters in North Korea or Nigeria? Why does this matter for us today? It matters because in the right hand of the Divine Son—who is infinitely wise, who sees His bride perfectly and completely, and who stands with omnipotent strength—the seven angels of the seven churches are held. Whether these refer to messengers who shepherd the churches or to angels with a particular charge, the point is unmistakable: His servants belong to Him. They are His, and they serve under His protection.
We are told that Jesus not only holds the seven stars and stands among His churches, but that from His mouth comes a sharp, two-edged sword (see Heb. 4:12). There are no dull edges on this sword, because it is the Word of God—living and powerful, with the authority to judge, cut, cure, wound, and heal. And if that were not enough, His face shines like the sun in full strength. What John sees is Jesus in His glory—holy, majestic, and awesome, worthy of all our worship. This Jesus is not the one often presented as safe, domesticated, or passive. This is the glorified Lord, whose word creates, sustains, and brings all things to account. Richard Phillips wrote of these verses: “This vision does not show us what Jesus looks like but rather what Jesus is like, symbolically depicting his person and work. Biblically trained Christians organize the work of Christ in his three offices of Prophet, Priest, and King.”2
With Jesus, there is No Need to Fear in Life or in Death (vv. 17-20)
It is no wonder, then, that when John sees this Jesus, he falls at His feet as though dead (v. 17). The beloved disciple, who once leaned against Jesus’ chest during His earthly ministry, is now an old man—weathered, worn, and wiser. Confronted with the risen and exalted Christ, John collapses in reverent awe. Yet it is this Jesus, standing in the midst of His church, who places the same right hand that holds His servants upon John.
John’s response is both right and appropriate. It echoes Isaiah’s encounter with the Holy One, in which he saw the Lord seated on the throne and heard the seraphim cry, “Holy, holy, holy” (Isa. 6:3). Isaiah responded in terror, “Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips… for my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts!” (Isa. 6:5). John’s response also mirrors Habakkuk’s reaction before a holy God: “I hear, and my body trembles; my lips quiver at the
sound; rottenness enters into my bones; my legs tremble beneath me. Yet I will quietly wait for the day of trouble” (Hab. 3:16). Throughout Scripture, when sinful people encounter God’s holiness, fear is the natural response.
But notice Jesus’ response to John’s terror: “Fear not, I am the first and the last, and the living one. I died, and behold I am alive forevermore, and I have the keys of Death and Hades” (vv. 17–18). Fear not. Why? Because unlike Caesar, the Roman Empire, or any power that seeks to silence Christ’s church, John—and all who belong to the true church—belong to Jesus. He is the One who died to save John from his sins, the One who rose again to secure his salvation and resurrection, and the One who now holds the keys of Death and Hades.
This is why Jesus can promise all who belong to Him: “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand… I and the Father are one” (John 10:27–30). With Jesus, there is no need to fear—not in life, and not in death.
Conclusion
Let me leave you with three points of application in light of all that we have seen in these verses:
First: Don’t be surprised by suffering—faithful Christians have always faced tribulation. If tribulation is the normal setting of the Christian life, then suffering is not a sign that something has gone wrong; it is often a sign that something has gone right. John does not present himself as an exception but as a partner in tribulation, reminding us that faithfulness to Jesus does not remove us from affliction but places us squarely within it. So when hardship comes—pressure to compromise, opposition at work, isolation for following Christ, or quiet endurance no one else sees—we are not abandoned; we are walking the same path marked out by the apostles, the early church, and believers around the world today.
Second: Find your security in Christ, not in your circumstances.
Revelation does not calm our fears by minimizing danger but by revealing Christ. John is not comforted by explanations or timelines but by the presence and power of Jesus—the eternal Son, our great High Priest, the all-seeing Judge, the omnipotent King, and the living Lord who has conquered death itself. Fear loosens its grip not when life becomes safe but when Jesus becomes central, because the size of our fear is always tied to how clearly we see Christ.
Third: Do not fear death—the One who died and rose again holds the keys of life and death.
Because this Jesus holds the keys of Death and Hades, nothing—not persecution, loss, or even death—has the final word over those who belong to Him. The same hand that holds the stars touches His servants, and the same voice that thunders like many waters speaks reassurance to fearful saints. So we need not fear what tomorrow brings or what awaits us at the end. With Jesus, there is no need to fear—not in life, nor in death.
1 Revelation consistently presents tribulation not as a distant, isolated future event, but as the lived experience of faithful believers—expressed through imprisonment, martyrdom, deception, and violent opposition—beginning in the first century and continuing until the final vindication of God’s people (Rev. 1:9; 2:9–10; 6:9–11; 12:17; 13:7; 17:6; 20:4).
2 Richard D. Phillips, Revelation, ed. Richard D. Phillips, Philip Graham Ryken, and Daniel M. Doriani, Reformed Expository Commentary (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 2017), 64.

Sunday Jan 25, 2026
Sunday Jan 25, 2026
In a world that exalts earthly power and demands allegiance, the book of Revelation pulls back the curtain and shows us the true throne of heaven. It calls God’s people to place their hope and loyalty not in the rulers of this age, but in Jesus Christ—the One who governs history and alone deserves our allegiance.
To grasp Revelation rightly, we must consider the circumstances in which it was given. Most scholars agree that the book was written near the end of the first century, likely between AD 90 and 95, during the reign of the Roman emperor Domitian. John tells us that he received this revelation while exiled on the island of Patmos “on account of the word of God and the testimony of Jesus” (Rev. 1:9). His exile was not a voluntary retreat, but punishment for unwavering faithfulness to Christ.
John had lived a long and costly life of discipleship. He had outlived the other apostles, witnessed the rise and fall of emperors, and seen friends and fellow believers martyred for their allegiance to Jesus. He had watched the brutality of Rome unleashed—most notably in the devastation of Jerusalem—and he had seen firsthand what happens when earthly powers claim absolute authority.
Long before Rome’s pressure intensified, many Jewish believers in Jesus had already been pushed out of their own communities—excluded from synagogues, cut off from family life, and treated as apostates rather than brothers. Faithfulness to Christ often meant losing one’s religious home before ever confronting the power of the empire.
By the time John was exiled, the pressure on the church had intensified. Under Domitian, emperor worship became a test of loyalty, especially in Asia Minor. For most citizens, participation was routine. For Christians, it was a crisis. To confess “Jesus is Lord” was to deny Caesar that title, and refusal could lead to social exclusion, economic loss, exile, or worse.
This was not a moment of widespread slaughter, but of steady compromise. Christians were not being asked, “Will you die for Christ today?” They were being asked, “Will you bend—just a little?”
It is into this world that Revelation was given. The very word revelation means unveiling. God is not hiding His purposes; He is revealing them. This book was written to a pressured church to show who truly reigns, how history is moving, and why faithfulness to Jesus is always worth the cost. And that is where Revelation begins.
Behold the Blessing (vv. 1-3)
When it comes to Revelation, the book is not Revelations. It is not a series of secret disclosures reserved for the most skilled students of prophetic Scripture. It is not a collection of clues designed to help us identify the next antichrist—especially since we are told that many antichrists have already come. It is also not a puzzle to figure out the timing of Christ’s return, for Jesus even said, “But concerning that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the Father only” (Matt. 24:36). Revelation is a revelation—but more precisely, it is the Revelation of Jesus Christ. That is how the book begins, and that is what the book is about.
So what does Revelation reveal about Jesus? Everything.
From beginning to end, Revelation presents Jesus in the fullness of His person and work. He is the faithful witness, the firstborn from the dead, and the ruler of the kings of the earth (1:5). He is the First and the Last, the Living One (1:17–18), the Holy One, the True One (3:7), and the originator of God’s creation (3:14). He is the Lion of the tribe of Judah and the Root of David (5:5), yet also the Lamb who was slain and the Worthy One (5:6, 9, 12). He is the Son of Man (14:14), the Word of God (19:13), and the King of kings and Lord of lords (19:16). He is the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End (22:13), the Root and the Descendant of David, and the Bright Morning Star (22:16).
For this reason, the book of Revelation may rightly be called the most Christ-centered book in the Bible. How can I say that? Because, as Paul tells us, all the promises of God find their “Yes” in Jesus Christ—and Revelation is the book that shows us, again and again, how Jesus is God’s “Yes” to every promise He has ever made.
This is the primary reason why we are assured a blessing for all who read, hear, and keep what is written in Revelation. You do know, don’t you, that you can read something and not hear it right? You can read a verse in the Bible and not really hear it, just as easily as someone can tell you something and it goes in one ear and then out the other with little to no effect.
I believe part of that blessing is reflected in what The Center for Bible Engagement discovered through a large-scale study on Bible engagement involving more than 600,000 participants. The results surprised many people—including those who conducted the research. The study found that individuals who engaged with Scripture at least four times a week experienced:
a 30% drop in loneliness
a 32% drop in anger
a 40% drop in bitterness in marriage and relationships
a 57% drop in alcoholism
a 60% drop in sexual sins, including pornography addiction
a 62% drop in those who felt distant from God
So what does it mean to “keep” the book of Revelation? It means more than reading it or debating it—it means treasuring its words and following the Christ it reveals in obedient faith. The very first sentence of the book gives us this clue: “The revelation of Jesus Christ, which God gave Him to show to His servants…” The word translated servants is the Greek word doulos, a term that speaks of belonging, allegiance, and obligation. A true Christian, then, is not someone who merely speaks well of Jesus, but someone who gladly submits to Him—yielding not just words, but life itself—in faithful service to the One who is revealed as Lord.
And this is why we are called to read, hear, and keep the words of Revelation—not only because of the blessing it promises, but because “the time is near.” What time is near? Not simply the final return of Christ, though that hope is never absent. Rather, John is pointing to the nearness of pressure, opposition, and persecution that come when allegiance to Jesus collides with the demands of the world. Revelation prepares God’s people to remain faithful when conformity is rewarded and faithfulness is costly.
Behold Our Triune God (vv. 4-6)
So why should we press on in light of what is coming? Why read, hear, and keep the words of this book? Because of who God is. Our God is the LORD Almighty—Yahweh—and there is no one like Him. He is the One who greets His people and extends grace and peace to those who belong to Him.
John’s greeting is not casual; it is deeply theological and addressed to the seven churches. These were seven real, historical congregations located in strategic cities of Asia Minor. Yet because the number seven signifies fullness and completeness, they also represent the church as a whole—God’s people in every generation and in every place. In that sense, the seven churches represent us.
And it is to this church—then and now—that grace and peace are given. They come first from the eternal, self-existent God, the One Isaiah proclaimed when he said, “Thus says the LORD, the King of Israel and his Redeemer, the LORD of hosts: ‘I am the first and I am the last; besides me there is no god’” (Isa. 44:6). This is the God who stands at the beginning and the end of history—the God who is never threatened, never surprised, and never displaced.
This God is also all-sufficient and unchanging. James calls Him “the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change” (Jas. 1:17). In a world where rulers rise and fall and circumstances shift, God remains the same. That is why His grace does not fade and His peace does not fail. In Revelation 1:4, He is described as the One “who is and who was and who is to come.” This is God the Father—the great I AM—who once set His people free by crushing Pharaoh and now meets His suffering church with grace and peace.
This grace and peace also come from the sevenfold Spirit—the Holy Spirit. The language of “seven spirits” speaks not of multiple beings, but of the fullness and perfection of the one Spirit who proceeds from God’s throne. It is the Holy Spirit who applies God’s grace to our hearts, sustains us in suffering, and empowers faithful witness.
And finally, this grace and peace come from Jesus Christ, the Son. John describes Him as the faithful witness, the firstborn from the dead, and the ruler of the kings of the earth. Jesus is the faithful witness because He perfectly revealed God and bore faithful testimony to the truth—even unto death. As the firstborn from the dead, He conquered death on our behalf, guaranteeing resurrection life for all who belong to Him. As Paul declares, “Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep” (1 Cor. 15:20), and again, “He is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything He might be preeminent” (Col. 1:18).
Our risen Lord is not waiting to rule—He already reigns. He is not described as one who will be the ruler of the kings of the earth, but as the One who is the ruler of the kings of the earth. Having lived the life we could not live, died the death we deserved, and risen in victory, Jesus is now exalted at the right hand of the Father. As Scripture declares, “At the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father” (Phil. 2:9–11).
But that’s not all, dear brothers and sisters. Scripture tells us that truth is established by two or more faithful witness. Again and again, God confirms His testimony through two witnesses. And in Revelation 1:5–6, John gives us exactly that. Christ bears witness to His love for us in two unmistakable ways: He has freed us from our sins by His blood, and He has made us a kingdom—priests to His God and Father. These two witnesses proclaim one glorious truth—not merely what Christ has done, but who we are to Him. They testify to this above all else: He loves us. He loves us.
The love of Christ is never passive. The One who loves us frees us, and the One who frees us forms us into something new. Revelation does not simply assure us that we are loved—it tells us who we now are because we are loved. And that is where John now turns our attention.
Behold the Coming King (vv. 7-8)
Where is the love of Christ leading us? What was it in these words that was meant to encourage John and the seven churches? Jesus—the faithful witness who lived the life we could never live, the firstborn from the dead who died the death we deserved, and the ruler of the kings of the earth who has made us a kingdom of priests—is coming back for us.
How is He coming back? He is coming to be seen, and He is coming in glory. Long before John ever saw this vision, the prophet Daniel was given a glimpse of that day when he wrote, “I saw in the night visions, and behold, with the clouds of heaven there came one like a son of man… And to him was given dominion and glory and a kingdom, that all peoples, nations, and languages should serve him; his dominion is an everlasting dominion, which shall not pass away” (Dan. 7:13–14).
When Jesus returns, every eye will see Him—including those who pierced Him. Jesus Himself described what John records in Revelation 1:7 when He said, “Then will appear in heaven the sign of the Son of Man, and then all the tribes of the earth will mourn, and they will see the Son of Man coming on the clouds of heaven with power and great glory” (Matt. 24:30). At His appearing, the tribes of the earth will mourn—those who rejected Him, mocked Him, and sought to silence Him by silencing His church. But not all tears will be tears of grief or fear. For those who belong to Christ, for those who have longed for His appearing, our tears will be tears of joy, relief, and celebration.
Throughout the book of Revelation, Jesus promises His coming again and again—no fewer than seven times (2:25; 3:11; 16:15; 22:7, 12, 20). This is the first of those promises, but it will not be the last. So what confidence do we have that this will happen? What guarantee do we have that Jesus is truly coming back? Our assurance rests not only in the empty tomb He walked out of, nor only in His promise as the faithful and true witness, but in God Himself—the One who declares, “I am the Alpha and the Omega.” He is the great I AM. He is the Lord Almighty—the One who is and who was and who is to come. Because He does not change, His promises do not fail, and it is this unchanging God who has guaranteed that these promises belong to His redeemed sons and daughters.
Conclusion
Therefore, dear brothers and sisters, devote yourselves wholeheartedly to the risen and reigning Christ, rather than to the temporary powers and fleeting trends of this world. Anchor your plans, your hopes, and your very lives in Him alone. Let your hearts rest in the deep assurance of His unfailing love—the love that has freed you from your sins by His precious blood and has made you a kingdom of priests to His God and Father. As you await the glorious appearing of the King who will come with power for all to see, endure the pressures that seek to silence your testimony, resist the subtle temptations to compromise, and hold fast to the blessing promised to those who read, hear, and keep the words of this prophecy. Do all this with unshakable confidence and living hope, for the One who calls you is faithful, and He will surely fulfill all that He has promised.
So here is what I want to leave you with. If you would remember what it means to read, hear, and keep the words of the book of Revelation, remember this one word: HEAR.
H — Hold fast to the blessing promised to those who read, hear, and keep the words of this prophecy.
E — Endure the pressures that seek to silence your testimony.
A — Anchor your plans, your dreams, and your hopes in the incomparable Christ.
R — Resist the subtle temptations to compromise, trusting that God will fulfill all His promises.




