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§3 Greetings from Christ to the Seven Churches of Asia (Rev. 2:1–3:22)

In the first chapter, John introduced himself and his composition (1:1–3; 1:9–10) and then greeted his readers who belong to seven different congregations of the Asian church (1:4; 1:11). Chapters 2 and 3 expand upon this introduction in continuation from the preceding commissioning vision (1:12–20). In this way, John’s own perceptions of his audience are conveyed through the authoritative voice of “the First and the Last,” who instructs the seer to write the Lord’s greetings to the angelic representatives of the seven congregations.

Scholars continue to disagree over the literary suitability and thematic unity of this particular vision within the context of the entire apocalypse. These discussions, however important, tend to distract the interpreter from John’s overarching purpose for these two chapters—discerned readily enough if one keeps in mind the literary form and rhetorical function of an apocalyptic letter. In short, Christ’s greetings to the seven churches embellish John’s own salutation to them.

This dramatic embellishment, also characteristic of Paul’s letters, reflects two critical elements in understanding the author’s purpose for writing to his audience. First, John’s perceptions of his audience are indicated by Christ’s description of their spiritual condition. John makes this clear by several common words and phrases that link together Christ’s commission of him with Christ’s messages to the seven churches. In particular, Christ’s first words to each of the seven churches (2:1, 8, 12, 18; 3:1, 7, 14) repeat the same images used of Christ envisioned in John’s commission. The net effect of this parallelism is to establish a relationship between the author and his audience that suggests the composition itself is written and read with common spiritual purpose. Second, and more importantly, Christ describes John’s audience to establish the proper context within which Revelation is read and adapted to the church’s faith and life. Again, John makes this point by linking chapters 2 and 3 to the book’s conclusion by a set of common themes and phrases. Thus, the images found in Christ’s final exhortations to overcome (2:7, 11, 17, 26–28; 3:5, 12, 21) are repeated in John’s vision of Christ’s parousia (19:11–22:6a). Of course, the “theo-logic” of this pattern is clear: the church’s proper response to Christ’s exhortations in the present crisis will result in God’s redemptive response to them at Christ’s return. This literary device, moreover, suggests the interrelatedness of the entire composition, and it very well may indicate that these various messages in particular function like a window through which the audience watches and interprets the rest of John’s vision.

The perception of Revelation’s relevancy for its reader’s faith depends on the congregation to which one belongs. If the author’s description of a particular congregation suits a reader, that reader will understand the importance of John’s subsequent vision in ways appropriate to that congregation, whether as a pastoral word of hope (e.g., the congregation at Smyrna) or as a prophetic word of judgment (e.g., the congregation at Laodicea). Because apocalypses are interpreted in a variety of ways in part because their messages are conveyed by symbols rather than by pointed discourse, the nuances drawn from chapters 2 and 3 are more necessary to an author interested that the audience properly understand the whole work.

Each of the seven addresses to John’s audience is built with a common fourfold pattern, with differing content due to the differing circumstances and characteristics of individual congregations. First, each congregation’s angel, which represents it within the vision, is greeted by christological confession, indicating those characteristics of the exalted Lord which call that congregation to an appropriate kind of discipleship. The thematic interplay between these opening addresses and John’s commissioning vision, noted above, impresses upon the reader the fundamental importance of the revelation that John has been commissioned to write down. Second, each congregation is then commended by Christ for its faithful attention to the demands of Christian discipleship, with the exception of the believers at Laodicea to whom no commendation is given (3:14–18). Yet, third, each congregation is also condemned for its inconsistent attention to the rigors of Christian faith, with the exception of the believers at Smyrna (2:8–10) and Philadelphia (3:8–10) who receive no censure from Christ. Finally, and of greatest rhetorical significance in our view, Christ encourages each congregation to overcome evil by obeying the message the Spirit conveys. Depending of the congregation’s spiritual condition, obedience is expressed either as repentance or as hope in the light of God’s sovereign and victorious reign. Its result is the promised blessings which will be revealed upon Christ’s return. Thus, the closing exhortation determines how the apocalypse itself is to be understood by a particular congregation, whether as a message of indictment for spiritual laxity or as one of vindication for spiritual responsiveness. This point is made clearer by a thematic interplay, noted above, between the symbols of eternal life enshrined within Christ’s closing words to the seven churches and the same or similar symbols found in the closing vision of Christ’s parousia which marks God’s final triumph over evil. The overarching structure of Revelation, which focuses the reader’s attention on the messages to the seven churches, underscores the importance of this part of the vision. Again, the reader’s orientation to the rest of the book, whether to view it as an encouraging or as a correcting word from God, is largely determined by the congregation to which one “belongs.”

The canonical significance of this section is reflected by its importance during the history of interpretation. Beasley-Murray claims that “the seven letters of chapters 2–3 comprise the best known and most frequently expounded section of the book of Revelation” (Revelation, p. 70). Whether John understood these seven congregations as representative of the whole church is unclear from the text itself; nor does the textual history indicate that this was written as an encyclical letter to circulate beyond the seven. However, the symbolic significance of the number seven is well known, and if applied to the churches might allow for a more “catholic” rendering. From a canonical perspective this reconstruction is unnecessary, since the inclusion of Revelation in the biblical canon presumes its importance for the spiritual formation of believers in every age, who continue to seat themselves in the pews of Revelation’s seven congregations to hear the word of the Lord God Almighty.

Morris finds another compositional pattern in chapters 2 and 3 that is worth noting in this regard. After calling attention to the importance of a “sevenfold arrangement” which organizes this section of John’s composition for him, Morris goes on to comment that “churches 1 and 7 are in grave danger, churches 2 and 6 are in excellent shape, churches 3, 4 and 5 are middling, neither very good nor very bad” (Revelation, pp. 57–58). However, he offers us no theological interpretation of this literary pattern.

If we accept Morris’ assessment of the spiritual condition of the Ephesian congregation, then the overarching pattern of this material is chiastic (ABCB′A′). Chiasmus calls the reader’s attention to the vortex of the pattern (C), where one finds what is most important for the author: that is, John is calling our attention to those churches with a “middling” spirituality. His purpose is certainly pastoral: most congregations do not find themselves on the margins of spiritual excellence (with the congregations at Smyrna and Philadelphia) or apathy (with the congregations at Ephesus and Laodicea), but rather in the mainstream of spiritual mediocrity (with the congregations at Pergamum, Thyatira, and Sardis). This is, then, the nature of the spiritual crisis for most of John’s readers, who constantly struggle against those forces and factors which might prevent the maturing of faith and keep our witness “middling.”

2:1 / Appropriately, Christ first addresses Asia’s most important congregation in one of the world’s great cities, Ephesus. Luke’s account of Ephesian Christianity warns of certain threats to its ministry of the gospel, such as religious pluralism and secular materialism (cf. Acts 19:1–41), but Acts also suggests its central importance to the advance of the Christian gospel (cf. Acts 20:13–37). If the list suggests a priority of concern, it seems fitting that John should begin with this church.

Christ repeats images envisioned earlier by John in recognition of Christ’s lordship over the church: Christ holds the seven stars in his right hand and walks among the seven golden lampstands. Perhaps these symbols of his lordship are restated here to remind a powerful Christian congregation, accustomed to a place of privilege within the church, that even their conduct is scrutinized by the Risen Lord who keeps all congregations equally under his constant care.

2:2–3 / The catchphrase, I know your deeds, begins Christ’s commendation of spiritual achievement. Revelation underscores the importance of good works as the substance of the church’s witness to its fidelity to Christ. In Christian preaching, faith and faithfulness always belong together, even though their exact relationship is understood differently by NT writers. The deeds of hard work and your perseverance, especially when understood as a hard fought intolerance of wicked men and false apostles, may reflect a Jewish tradition that such diligent devotion satisfies a criterion of Israel’s covenant with God. Especially in light of Christ’s opening exhortation, the congregation’s testing of those who claim to be apostles but are not expresses the submission of true disciples to their Lord.

The exact identity and teaching of these false and wicked apostles is unclear and remains contested. In 2:6 and 2:14–15, mention is made of the congregation’s association with the Nicolaitans, followers of Nicolas of Antioch, according to primitive tradition. The language and its context seem to suggest that the Nicolaitans advocated too much accommodation with the surrounding social and religious order. John’s use of the Balaam typology (Num. 25:1–2; cf. Jude 11) in 2:14 (cf. 2:2) would seem to suggest that Nicolaitan practices did not distinguish keenly enough between their Christian faith and pagan religion to prevent the public appearance (at the very least) of capitulation to idolatry and sexual immorality.

2:4–6 / The opening adversative, Yet I hold this against you, indicates a shift from commendation to condemnation. The perils of Ephesian disaffection from the rigors of Christian discipleship are made clear by Christ: If you do not repent, I will come to you and remove your lampstand from its place. Whatever else this warning might mean and whenever it might be realized, two things seem clear enough: first, the congregation jeopardizes its place within the eschatological community by continuing on its present course; yet, second, its restoration is still possible upon turning back to do the things you did at first. The peril of not returning to former spiritual disciplines is revealed in the future: the unrepentant congregation will be excluded from coming blessings. While some contend these blessings are more immediate and the potential loss is of spiritual vitality or the power to be a “real church,” this interpretation seems unnatural to the immediate context. For John, the identity of true Israel is revealed at Christ’s return, when even the church will be judged on how well it integrates its faith with good works.

The statement of the spiritual problem is that you have forsaken your first love. The catchphrase, first love, is best understood in theological terms and according to the Johannine tradition. In this light, love and truth form the single, integral reality of real Christianity. Specifically, the theological core, or “logos,” of Johannine Christianity is that God is love and truth, and God’s love and truth are incarnated in Jesus Christ (John 1:1–18). Further, the apostolic witness to the incarnated “logos,” Jesus Christ, represents the normative understanding of love and truth (esp. 1 John 3:11–4:21). The deeper logic of this interpretation of the Christian gospel suggests a twofold clarification of Christ’s message to Ephesus. First, any tolerance for teaching contrary to the apostolic witness to the word (cf. 2:2; 1 John 1:1–5; 2:18–27), as advanced for example by the Nicolaitans, constitutes opposition to the essential conviction of Christian preaching: God is love. To forsake one’s “first love” would constitute the disavowal of this core conviction of apostolic teaching and would be considered apostasy. Second, the proper response to the belief that God is love is concrete actions of love for one another (1 John 4:20–21). The use of the Balaam typology in 2:14–15 for the Pergamum church suggests these two congregations face the same threat: forsaken love refers to an accommodation of pagan idolatry—an act of hatred against immature believers.

Idolatry confuses divine love and its obligations; idols are created to serve humanity’s self-centered love and vain ambitions. Paul reminds his Corinthian readers that idolatry prevents the nurture of believers because it impedes sensitivity to their spiritual condition. Thus, to cause the immature to stumble in their Christian discipleship constitutes an act of hatred toward them and dishonors the rule of God (1 Cor. 8:9–13; 4:14–21; cf. 1 John 3:10–11).

2:7 / The concluding exhortation to him who overcomes (the preceding peril) is sandwiched between its condition and its consequence. The overcomer endures the present crisis because the overcomer has an ear to hear what the Spirit says to the churches. John employs an OT (LXX) idiom for faithfulness, He who has an ear, let him hear, echoing the demand of the Shema, “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one” (Deut. 6:4), which also means to “be careful to obey so that it may go well with you” (Deut. 6:3; cf. James 1:22–25). Indeed, this is said to be the measure of the community’s “first love” (cf. Deut. 6:5). Likewise, to overcome the drift from its theological fundamental that God is love, the Ephesian congregation must renew and reassert its faithfulness to Christ, whose exaltation confirms that God is love. And it is the Spirit of the exalted Christ who continues to speak on his behalf to the churches (cf. John 14:15–31; 1 John 4:1–6). The Paraclete’s role within the community of Christ’s disciples is to remind them of God’s love and truth in order to convict them of their sin and to bring about their repentance in the light of God’s truth (cf. John 16:12–15).

With this result, the congregation can then hope to eat from the tree of life, which is in the paradise of God. John foreshadows the final vision of the new Jerusalem (22:2), which symbolizes the new people of God (cf. 21:10). The eschatological consequence of the church’s present faithfulness is the complete transformation of its existence. This promise is nuanced by the story of Genesis 1–3 that it echoes. In God’s original paradise we find the first tree of life; there, like the Ephesian congregation, Adam and Eve forsook their first love and paid for the consequences of their sin. Not only does the triumph of God’s reign through Jesus Christ anticipate God’s future restoration of creation, Christ’s exaltation bids the present church to bear witness to that future as God’s new creation.

2:8 / Smyrna was a prosperous port city, not far north up the coastline from Ephesus. Smyrna’s importance also extended to political matters because of its close and loyal association with Rome, even pre-dating Rome’s rise to power. Although John issues unqualified praise for this congregation, we have no historical record of its beginning (although we do know from Acts 19:10 that Paul conducted a successful evangelistic campaign in the vicinity). And a generation after Revelation was written, Polycarp, a notable leader in the early church, was martyred in Smyrna.

The opening address repeats claims made earlier for Christ (1:17–18) that he is the First and the Last, who died and came to life again. A reminder of Easter is especially meaningful for this congregation which lives in poverty, has encountered intense religious opposition, and even faces imprisonment and martyrdom.

2:9–10 / The subsequent consolation, then, to Be faithful, even to the point of death, and I will give you the crown of life promises faithful disciples a future with the Risen Christ. Their reward, the crown of life, probably refers to the laurel wreath or garland given the athlete who wins at the games. As an eschatological symbol, it refers to the reward of eternal life for those who remain faithful even to death.

The prospect of death appears very real to these believers. Not only have they already experienced afflictions; they are about to suffer; … the devil will put … you in prison to test you, and you will suffer persecution for ten days. The agents of the Evil One in this case are Jews who lay claim to God’s Israel but who belong to a synagogue of Satan which actively opposes the church’s witness in Smyrna. Unlike the Nicolaitans, who endanger Christian faith from within, religious Jews, especially strong in Smyrna, were members of a distinct religious community which persecuted Christians as outsiders. We should assume that such persecution was part of the larger struggle between the church and synagogue in earliest Christianity resulting from Christian proclamation that the crucified rabbi, Jesus from Nazareth, is really the promised Christ of God according to Jewish tradition. Because Christians recognized what Easter confirmed, they were convinced that the church is God’s “true” covenant partner. Tensions intensified in Asia with the Gentile mission and Paul’s preaching of a Torah-free and tradition-free gospel (cf. Acts 21:27–28). No doubt this resistance to Christianity led John to say that unbelieving Jews are Jews and are not, when in fact believing Jews (and Gentiles) are (cf. Rom. 2:27–28; 9–11). Of course, his assertion should not be construed as anti-semitic, for John himself was a Jew (as were Jesus and Paul). Rather, his harsh rhetoric conveys in the strongest possible way the very same judgment made earlier of the non-Jewish Nicolaitans: those who do not follow the crucified Jesus as the Risen Christ stand outside of God’s people in whose history God’s promised salvation is now being fulfilled.

The Lord’s opening declaration of his resurrection reassures a community that lives on the economic margins of the social order. No doubt the opposition from the Jewish community, affluent and politically influential, only intensified the church’s poverty. It would make sense if some believers were tempted to return to the synagogue for economic reasons. Thus, the promise of an economic reversal is more forcefully given: your poverty … you are rich. As a motif of apocalyptic literature, the promise of a reversal in socioeconomic fortunes is an element of God’s coming triumph over the Evil One. Further, the church’s marginal status in this life indicates devotion to God; thus, the true people of God belong to a community of the poor whose liberation from poverty is their experience of God’s shalom (cf. Luke 4:16–21).

2:11 / The faithful disciple, who overcomes … the second death, anticipates this reversal in fortune. The idea of a “second death” assumes that everyone experiences a “first death.” The poverty of the church, its afflictions, and the Jewish slander against disciples (2:9), coupled with the imprisonment and possible martyrdom which awaits them (2:10), bear witness to their participation in the “first death.” However, to die a second time is to be disqualified from eternal life which is yet to come. The test of which John speaks (2:10), then, is inevitable because it belongs to the realm of the first death. To resist temptation means to participate in the “first death” (i.e., martyrdom); but to participate in the first death is also to escape the second death and to enter into the promised reign of God’s grace and peace.

2:12 / Continuing north up the coastline of the Aegean Sea, then moving inland, brings one to Pergamum, the capital of the Asian province. The city was built around a great acropolis on which the first temple of the imperial cult was built to Augustus in 29 B.C. For Christians, Pergamum symbolized secular power and civil religion; indeed, Christ identifies it as the city “where Satan has his throne … where Satan lives” (2:13).

The Lord possesses the sharp, double-edged sword, again repeating what John had seen in his earlier vision of Christ (1:16). This is yet another image of Christ’s lordship, clarified later as “the sword of my mouth” (2:16) that will “fight against” the false teachings and sexual immoralities sponsored by the Nicolaitans (2:15; cf. 2:6). The sword symbolizes the eschatological word of God (cf. Heb. 4:12–13) by which lawlessness is exposed and judged (cf. 2 Thess. 2:8). The truth of this word has already been disclosed in the messianic mission of Jesus and confirmed at his exaltation. Thus, the apostolic proclamation of the gospel represents the ongoing standard by which non-apostolic claims to Christian faith and life, such as asserted by the Nicolaitans or those compromised by the imperial cult, are evaluated and condemned.

2:13 / With assurances of the gospel’s truthfulness, Jesus thus commends the believers who remain true to my name, even though they evidently were pressured, perhaps by the leaders of the imperial cult, to renounce your faith in me. The language used by John suggests an active resistance to such adverse pressure, of the sort exemplified by Antipas … who was put to death in your city.

The contrast drawn between Antipas, who like Jesus is called faithful witness (1:5), and the city, where Satan lives, is notable. The contrast envisions the location of a conflict between God’s reign, to which both Jesus and Antipas bore witness to by their deaths, and Satan’s reign, to which Rome and its civil religion bear witness. Revelation exploits this contrast in terms of power. Civil religion, while bowing before idols that have no ultimate (i.e., eschatological) power, does nevertheless exercise real influence. The power of the anti-Christian kingdom, of course, is its corrupting and destructive influence upon the unfaithful. The powerful demonstration of God’s rule, on the other hand, is the transformation of faithful people for the good.

The effects of God’s grace within the church may well be obscured by the effects of living within a society at odds with the notions of divine truth and the character of divine love. Conflict is therefore the necessary result of fidelity to God’s gospel. Even though such faithfulness results in affliction, it is nevertheless motivated by the reality of Christ’s resurrection and the hope of his return. This is the point implicit in Christ’s commendation: even as the faithful Antipas is a witness to Christ’s death, he will ultimately participate in Christ’s exaltation as well.

2:14–16 / The Lord’s condemnation of some Christians in Pergamum expands the specific theological crisis which threatens the church’s witness there. Both the Pergamene and Ephesian congregations are afflicted from within by Nicolaitan teaching (cf. 2:2, 6). Perhaps the Pergamene church, weakened by internal conflict, finds itself less able to contend against the outside pressures that are indicated in 2:13. Unable to muster adequate spiritual resources from vital worship to maintain a viable Christian witness, the less mature believers have become soft and susceptible to the corrupting influences inside and outside the worshiping community. The call to repent, then, warns against theological and ethical laxity that will result in an unfavorable judgment when Christ will soon come to you and will fight against his enemies in the city.

2:17 / The exaltation of Jesus Christ as Lord anticipates the outcome of his visitation: the Nicolaitans and the other agents of Satan in the city will certainly fall (cf. 2:5). The incentives to repent are clear, not only to escape execution by the sword of my mouth at the Lord’s return (cf. 19:21), but also to receive the hidden manna and a white stone with a new name written on it. John’s appeal to the manna typology recalls the story of Balaam and Balak (cf. Num. 22–25; 31:16; Jude 11; also, Ps-Philo 18), whose evils characterize the Nicolaitan heresy (cf. 2:14–15). In a sense, the city of Pergamum is for its Christian congregation like the wilderness was for the children of Israel: it is the context of spiritual struggle and testing, where the one who overcomes resists the request of Balak to accommodate the world’s order. The gift of hidden manna probably draws upon rabbinic commentaries on Exodus 16:31–35 by which Jews expected to be nourished by this same manna in the age to come. For John, then, manna is yet another symbol of eschatological fulfillment, when God’s people receive the promised blessings of salvation (cf. John 6:25–59).

The second reward of faithfulness, a white stone, is a more difficult symbol to understand. The new name written on it, whether Christ’s (19:12; cf. 3:12) or the overcomer’s, brings to mind a universe of “new things” (21:5) that will result from God’s final triumph over evil—the “new” Jerusalem (3:12; 21:2), a “new” heaven and earth (21:1), “new” songs (5:9; 14:3), and so on. In addition, the adjective white is used elsewhere in Revelation in reference to spiritual purity, which is another eschatological credential. Thus, whatever else the white stone refers to, it symbolizes the future blessings poured out on the community of overcomers at Christ’s return.

John recognized the significance of the stones in his visions by their function within his world. Two common uses in particular probably informed John’s interpretation of the visionary stones. Stones were sometimes used as tickets for admission to public events. Perhaps John viewed the stones held by overcomers as admission tickets to Christ’s victory feast (cf. 19:17–18). Especially if the interpreter decides that the new name written on it belongs to Christ, then the white stone probably has this significance for John. Stones were also used by juries, who gave an acquitted person a white stone at the trial’s end. This rendering is also possible, especially if the white stone is linked to the “great white throne” (20:11), symbolic of God’s final judgment of good and evil. If the interpreter decides that the new name written on it belongs to the overcomer and is therefore written in the “book of life” (20:15), then a cumulative case could be built for the white stone as symbolic of the overcomer’s escape from “the second death” (20:14). We prefer this second view because it fits better this congregation’s situation and John’s use of the “sword” imagery: the disciple who resists satanic repression inside and outside the church will be acquitted by the heavenly jury and so escape God’s eschatological judgment.

2:18 / The next major city to the east of Pergamum on the Roman highway through Asia was Thyatira. Known throughout the ancient world as a city of merchants and trade guilds, its local gods were dedicated to the city’s economic well-being. Unlike Pergamum, which was a center of civil religion in Asia, the idolatry in Thyatira was materialism, whose power is measured by society’s robust commerce. Perhaps this explains the extensive use of “tools of trade” as symbols for Christ’s lordship over humanity’s spiritual and material existence (cf. Col. 1:15–20).

The address recovers two more elements of John’s commissioning vision, which depicted Christ as a “son of man” whose eyes are like blazing fire and whose feet are like burnished bronze. John’s Christ reinterprets the earlier “a son of man” idiom from Daniel by the more definitive the Son of God title (cf. Ps. 2:7; but used only here in Revelation) to draw together the first and last parts (2:27) of the message to this congregation. In doing so, John focuses the reader’s attention on Psalm 2 (esp. v. 8), which NT writers viewed as fulfilled by the divine Messiah Jesus (cf. Mark 1:11; 9:7; Heb. 1:2, 5; 5:5), as the biblical text that interprets the crisis recounted in this message. The Messiah’s exalted status as Son of God confirms him as having received authority from my Father (2:27; cf. Ps. 2:8; Dan. 7:14; Matt. 28:18) to give the one who overcomes the crisis co-regency over the nations (2:26). Moreover, the previous images of fire and … bronze, along with the biblical images of iron scepter and pottery (cf. Ps. 2:9), are now understood as referring to the products of the city’s industry. Thus, Christ’s lordship over the faithful assures for them their final vindication over those whose values are shaped by economic rather than by biblical notions of power.

2:19 / Christ commends good works that deepen the congregation’s love and faith, your service and perseverance. These deeds form relationships within a spiritual congregation that provide its foundation for “the long obedience in the right direction” (cf. 2:23c; Rom. 2:5–10). The first doublet envisions the church’s devotion to God, the second, its devotion to each other. In contrast to the Ephesian church, this congregation’s witness is growing rather than waning. The real issue, however, and the issue to which all the moral advice of Revelation is directed, is whether they will do my will to the end (2:26).

2:20–25 / The theological crisis threatening their steadfast growth is tied to the tolerated presence of that woman, Jezebel, who symbolizes the corrosive powers of false religion among the people of God. The label of self-proclaimed prophetess suggest that this false teacher may have been the female leader of an “emancipation movement” within the church. The Lord’s warning that she repent of her immorality suggests that this sectarian movement within the church is in conflict with its apostolic teaching. The harsh, polemical rhetoric used by John to characterize Jezebel’s teaching reflects his own intolerance against such forms of religious anarchy (cf. 1 John 2:18–19). John’s reference to sexual immorality denotes theological infidelity of the sort that misleads my servants. There is little evidence in the passage to aid the interpreter in reconstructing who Jezebel was and what she actually taught; however, the use of common catch-phrases to describe this movement and those used to describe the gnosticizing Nicolaitans at Ephesus and Pergamum suggest some similarity between them.

Two additional clues are also worth considering in this regard. Christ’s warning that I will cast her on a bed of suffering may indicate that the false teacher champions the opposite—that is, an escape from suffering. Especially if this city’s materialistic values are projected onto its idols, Jezebel’s heresy is the ancient equivalent of the current “gospel of prosperity” that equates the gospel with present, material blessings.

A second clue appears in John’s reference to Satan’s so-called deep secrets. It seems to suggest the promulgation of gnostic “mysteries” within earliest Christianity. Certain Christian teachers formed “study groups” to advance their own private interpretations, justifying their trustworthiness as “divine revelations” or deep secrets from God. Perhaps because these teachers often claimed their teaching was received through ecstatic experiences, Jezebel calls herself a prophetess (Beasley-Murray, Revelation, p. 92). Since the content and consequences of her teaching conflicted with apostolic witness, Jezebel was located with other false teachers under Satan’s rule rather than under God’s (cf. 1 John 2:18–27).

2:26–29 / Christ promises to give the overcomer the morning star. In John’s world, Venus was called “the morning star”; and later in Revelation so is Jesus (22:16). Neither reference explains its use here; nor does Isaiah’s reference to the fall of Babylon’s king as the “morning star, fallen from heaven” (Isa. 14:12). However, these passages all use the star motif to symbolize sovereignty or rule. On this basis, it would seem likely that the morning star again symbolizes the eschatological situation of the community of overcomers by pointing to its future participation in the triumph of God’s rule over all those secular and materialistic pretenders to the Lord’s throne.

3:1 / John’s Christ again seems mindful of the city’s reputation while addressing its church. Sardis, once the leading city of the important Lydian Valley, is now a city of departed glory by the time John writes Revelation at the end of the first century. Following an earthquake that leveled much of the city in A.D. 17, Sardis struggled to regain its past stature with economic assistance from Rome. Because the city was well located at the western depot of the “King’s Highway” that began at Susa on the Persian Gulf, the success of its rebuilding campaign was tied to its well-known role as a trading center for the textile industry (cf. 3:4–5). Unfortunately, like its church, Sardis had a reputation of being alive, but it was really dead.

The promise of economic vitality is tied to the city’s military security, and for this Sardis depended on its seemingly impregnable acropolis. Nevertheless, it had been captured twice before (in 546 B.C. and 218 B.C.), both times because the enemy had “come like a thief” in the night when the sleeping city did “not know at what time (the enemy) would come.”

In preparation for the harsh message Christ brings to this church, he claims his lordship in the strongest possible way: he holds the seven spirits of God and the seven stars. Both the spirits and the stars, the Holy Spirit and the angels, are agents of God’s revelation and dispensers of God’s transforming grace. Both are now under the jurisdiction of God’s exalted Christ for ministry among Christ’s disciples.

The church in Sardis, however, is a reclamation project, a community of the “living dead.” These disciples, who have a reputation of being alive, but … are dead, are in such a serious state that Christ breaks his normal pattern of dispensing commendation before condemnation; his message is one of condemnation. The seven stars are the angels of God (1:20) and with God will stand in judgment over this church at the end of time (3:5)—a point which brackets and qualifies the entire message. Evidently this is a congregation content with spiritual mediocrity even though in desperate need of the revitalizing power of the Paraclete of the exalted Christ.

3:2–3 / A congregation whose life is not complete in the sight of my God is one that resists the Paraclete. The four imperatives, which follow the opening exhortation to wake up!, invite believers to a spiritual response different from the city, whose acropolis had fallen because of its lack of military readiness. In fact, the first of these imperatives, strengthen!, envisions an acropolis, and no doubt the one in Sardis that was built strong to protect a people from outside invasion. Apparently, the congregation does have some spiritual residue remaining, even though it is about to die—an ironical, perhaps hopeful demand in light of the opening assertion that “you are dead.”

The next imperatives, remember … obey … and repent, provide the readers with three “wake-up calls” that orient them to John’s Revelation. The renewal of the Spirit does not occur in a vacuum; the intended revival occurs when the book they have received and heard results in repentance. Like the book of Hebrews, Revelation’s message calls for obedient response; and John’s “realized Christology” (i.e., his conviction that the completed messianic mission begins the new age of God’s salvation) provides justification for the demands as directives for readiness of the future Day. The warning that Revelation issues to the unrepentant is that if you do not wake up … you will not know. Spiritual renewal is “mind renewal” (cf. Rom. 12:1–2); to repent (metanoeō) literally refers to a person’s intellectual reorientation, a “change of one’s mind.” The experience of conversion enables the congregation to know … I will come to you, even though I will come like a thief. The evidence of conversion is a change of lords, from placing one’s confidence in the security of the city-state, destroyed by an enemy that came “like a thief in the night,” to the returning Christ, who comes like a thief as the Lord over lords. Fanatical speculations about the exact time of Christ’s return are replaced by a confidence in its imminence.

John uses images for Christ’s parousia associated with the “Day of the Lord” in the Jesus tradition (Matt. 24:43; cf. 1 Thess. 5:2). John, however, adapts this eschatological motif to his situation as a warning rather than as a promise; the congregation at Sardis has failed to meet the condition of faithfulness that Jesus himself has set down for his return (Matt. 24:13–14; cf. Rom. 11:25–27). Most commentators agree that John’s use of this motif intends to exclude the faithless from certain, unspecified blessings on the future Day. Given its more negative context, however, as well as John’s consistent emphasis on the church’s present fellowship (3:20) with a judging Lord (2:22–23), perhaps John intends only to warn the congregation of a more immediate and limited prospect, such as the visitation from an angry Lord, presumably mediated by his angel, and whatever that might bring.

3:4–6 / Using well-known images cast from Sardis’ textile industry, Christ specifies the nature of those spiritual resources for revitalizing this dead church: Yet you have a few people in Sardis who have not soiled their clothes. This righteous remnant consists of the eschatological “overcomers” who are worthy and therefore will walk with me, dressed in white. The worthiness of the exalted Lamb to open the scroll and break its seals was based on his faithfulness to a redemptive God, even unto death (cf. 5:9). Likewise, the worthy remnant are characterized by their dress, made white by the blood of the Lamb, because of their vigorous faithfulness to God even with the possibility of martyrdom (cf. 7:9–17).

In contrasting the two groups of believers in Sardis, one spiritually alive and the other stagnant, John may have in mind the biblical contrast between Israel’s “remnant” and the “rest of Israel.” The confidence of the righteous remnant, based on Isaiah’s use of the motif, was rooted in their conviction that a faithful God would respond to their faithfulness by saving the unfaithful Jews. In fact, as Israel’s spiritual exemplars, they felt their future salvation would prompt even the nations to repent and also enter into God’s promised peace. A similar confidence lies behind the contrast John draws between 3:1–3 and 3:4–6: those who have not soiled their clothes and are spiritually alive will bring about the repentance of those who “have a reputation of being alive, but … are dead.”

The concluding reference to the book of life once again draws the reader to Revelation’s conclusion and to its promise of God’s final triumph over death (20:12; cf. 2:17). The book is an important symbol because of its association with public decrees which initiate real events: the historic commencement of eternal life will be publicly (i.e., actually) decreed before my Father and his angels at Christ’s return. The book is given added importance since it contains a roll of names which stipulates one’s eternal status, whether the Lord will never blot one’s name out … but will acknowledge it. Christ’s lordship over the church is decisive and ultimate; it is also historically specific and deals with individuals by their personal name. His decision about a believer’s fitness to enter into God’s eternal reign is not based upon a formal confession of faith; indeed, some in the Sardis church gave every outward appearance of true devotion. Rather, the criterion of the Lord Jesus’ eschatological judgment is considerably more demanding, requiring the believer to be worthy, utterly faithful to God’s eternal rule through Christ.

3:7 / Located near to Sardis, Philadelphia was a relatively new city, founded during the second century B.C. by Attalus II Philadelphus. This may be in John’s mind when he writes to the Philadelphian church about the new Jerusalem (3:12). The “new” Philadelphia had been planned as a center for the hellenization program that was encouraged and financed by Attalus. The more conservative voices of the vibrant Jewish community in Philadelphia no doubt tried to thwart such a program and may have resisted Christianity as an element of their efforts in this regard (cf. 3:9).

For the only time in Revelation, Christ is called holy and true—the appellation used for God in 6:10. As an attribute of his lordship, Christ’s ongoing claim upon the church is based on his oneness with God his Father—a critical emphasis of Johannine Christology (cf. John 10:22–30). According to John, the authority of Jesus was first recognized and confessed by Peter (cf. John 6:69) and later clarified by Martha (cf. John 11:27); his teachings brought forth eternal life in those who believed (cf. John 6:63–64). The epistle 1 John brings together the realization of eternal life and sinless existence as the result of knowing “him who is true—even (God’s) Son Jesus Christ” (1 John 5:20; cf. John 20:31).

On this basis, assurance can now be given that Christ holds the key of David (cf. 1:18) that opens what no one can shut, and … shuts what no one can open. This reference to David probably has the Jewish opponents of 3:9 in mind. No doubt they disputed the church’s claim that Jesus is the promised Davidic Christ, whose key unlocks the door into the household of eschatological Israel (cf. Isa. 22:22). Rather than a defeated “anti-Christ,” as his scandalous death might suggest to unbelieving Jews (cf. 1 Cor. 1:23), Jesus is the Messiah, holy and true, whose mission is to shut … and … open Israel’s entrance into God’s kingdom (cf. Luke 2:33–34).

3:8–10 / The church in Philadelphia receives unqualified commendation from the holder of the “key of David” who has placed … an open door for them into eternal life that no one else can shut (cf. John 6:35–40; 10:28–29). This is not a biblical justification of eternal security; rather, in the context of John’s Revelation, it is an image of Christ’s lordship: only the Lord has been given authority by his Father to determine for whom the door is opened and shut. Notice that Christ makes this determination on the basis of deeds: whether you have kept my word and have not denied my name. According to the biblical faith, good works are the evidence of true repentance (cf. 1 John 3:9–12; Luke 3:7–17; 10:25–28). Thus, John is keenly interested in the deeds which mark out a repentant and faithful witness to Christ. In this context, the assurance of eternal life is never justified by those who merely claim God’s salvation but whose deeds are opposed to God’s reign. In fact, they are no better than those who belong to the synagogue of Satan and who claim to be Jews but are liars (cf. John 8:42–47). The true Jew is the one for whom the door has been opened and not one who claims admission into the household of Israel on the basis of ethnicity or tradition (cf. John 8:31–41). Especially the preaching of primitive Jewish Christianity emphasized that God recognizes eschatological Israel by what it does and not by sola fide (James 2:24; cf. Rom. 2:5–10).

In Christ’s parallel address to the congregation at Smyrna, that congregation’s faithful witness to God is set in stark contrast to its social powerlessness. Likewise, the Philadelphian believers have little strength, but I will make them (the Jews) come and fall down at your feet and acknowledge that I have loved you. This is another stunning example of the apocalyptic reversal motif, not because it speaks of the transformation of a powerless people into a ruling people but rather because it turns the Jewish synagogue’s polemic against the church upside down! The very Isaianic passages that promise God’s salvation will come first to the nation Israel (Isa. 45:14 et al.) now justify the church’s apologetic that the church is the “true” Israel of God.

The difficult situation facing the Philadelphian church is constitutive of the global hour of trial, described in 12:1–19:10, which will test those who live on the earth. The hardship and heartache that bespeak a fallen creation, cursed by God, purpose to test those who have already failed God in order to justify God’s judgment of them at Christ’s return. While believers are surely not exempt from suffering (2:10), their testing comes at the hands of evil powers rather than from God (cf. James 1:13–18) and will prove their faithfulness to Christ, resulting in a “crown” (3:11; cf. 2:10).

The messages to the other congregations indicate that the whole church is under attack inside and out. Whether John expected an empirewide persecution of Christians or an intensification of Jewish opposition and proselytism in this part of Asia cannot be decided by this particular text. In any case, John’s pastoral intention is to encourage the congregation: while the world outside of the church will come under the judgment of God, the faithful church will not (cf. Rom. 1:17–18). The final, future execution of God’s punishment against secular and religious powers that have marginalized this congregation of “little strength” intends to vindicate their faithfulness to my command to endure patiently. Revelation is read by the Philadelphian believers, then, as a word of hope that Christ will keep them from the hour of trial.

3:11–13 / Unlike the situation of disobedient congregations, where the imminent coming of Christ is perceived as a threat of punishment (2:5, 16; 3:3), the force of Christ’s promise that I am coming soon (cf. 22:7, 20) is to encourage this congregation to hold on to the gospel so that no one will take your crown of eternal life; the expected vindication of their faithfulness and the reversal of their marginal status are at hand. Significantly, John does not resolve the tension felt between the opening address, which assures the reader that no one but the Risen Christ can open and close the door into eternal life (3:7–8), and this closing exhortation, which implies that evil powers could lead the believer away from the gospel of eternal life. God’s salvation is a partnership, a covenant with God’s people. The biblical idea of covenant envisions both conditional and unconditional aspects; it is a relationship entered into by God’s love through the church’s response of faith, but then maintained by divine love through the church’s faithfulness to the Lord (cf. 1 John 2:28–3:10; 5:16–20).

The faithful congregation is comforted not by a future of orchestrated and pre-planned events but by the imminent expectation of an actual person, Jesus, who comes to make the overcomer a pillar in the temple of my God and to write three names to identify each one: my God … the city of my God, the new Jerusalem, … my new name. These are symbols of the community of overcomers, who will live in a new way toward God and each other. The heavenly temple of my God (11:19; 15:5–8) symbolizes a “true” Israel’s worship of God, which has now commenced with Christ’s exaltation and will be realized on earth when the new Jerusalem comes down out of heaven from my God at his return (cf. Heb. 12:22–29). A name is symbolic of essence; in this case, it indicates the identity of the community of current overcomers as the eschatological community that will experience transformed human existence at Christ’s return.

3:14 / Laodicea was an affluent city. Located strategically at the intersection of three major trade routes, the city quickly became a banking and trading center, known especially for its woolen carpets and clothing. Also in Laodicea was one of the ancient world’s most prominent medical schools, especially famous for its eye and ear treatments (cf. 3:18). This cultural identity is a useful metaphor for the faith of this city’s Christian congregation. Their participation in the city’s wealth had made them deaf and blind to their spiritual need (cf. 3:17–18). Thus, Christ reserves his severest condemnation for this congregation, failing to find anything in their witness worth commending.

The opening address posits Christ’s witness to God as the exact opposite of the Laodicean church’s witness to Christ. He is the Amen … the faithful and true witness to God. The Hebrew use of the liturgical Amen confirms as valid and binding the worshiping community’s declarations of praise to God (cf. Isa. 65:16). Those theological convictions have been disclosed by Jesus, whose faithfulness to God as Messiah issues a true (alēthinos) historical witness to the truth about God’s reign (cf. John 1:14). God’s enthronement of Christ as the ruler of God’s creation legitimizes the “amen” of the new age that God’s recreating power is found only in the community which confesses that Jesus Christ is ruler over God’s new creation, the church (cf. Col. 1:15–20).

3:15–20 / The decisiveness of Christ’s witness to God’s truth, indicated by the opening address, stands in marked contrast to the congregation’s witness, which is neither hot nor cold; God demands a Christ-like witness from his disciples, a faith measured by faithfulness. The terrifying prospect of being spit … out of my mouth symbolizes God’s negative verdict of a people who are unfaithful to God’s faithful and true witness, who is the standard of eschatological judgment.

Drinking the caustic lime found in the hot springs of Hierapolis, six miles away, could make a person sick. Knowing the geography of the region helps make the point that Christ is sickened by the complacency of the Laodiceans, who say, “I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing,” when in fact they are spiritually impoverished. Perhaps the congregation is afflicted by the same nascent Gnosticism found at nearby Colossae that bifurcated human life into spiritual/private (= good) and material/public (= evil) spheres. The result was to make Christ Lord only over one’s personal and interior life, while tolerating the social evils that shaped one’s public conduct (cf. James 4:13–5:6). This kind of religious schizophrenia is outlawed by the one who is Lord over both the private and public dimensions of human existence.

Against the dominant images of the Laodicean culture, Christ counsels the congregation to repent (3:19) and realize that you are … poor, blind and naked. Accordingly, they are to buy from me gold to become rich toward God (cf. Luke 12:21); they are to wear white clothes to cover their nakedness (cf. James 2:15); and they are to acquire salve to put on your eyes to see (cf. John 9:35–41). These symbolize repentance and also divine gifts that provide the repentant one with the spiritual goods necessary to turn around and follow Christ.

Christ warns of severe consequences that result from spiritual apathy; yet his emphasis is always on the spiritual resources that belong to the believing community and that make for a restored relationship with God. Indeed, Christ’s harshest rebuke is prompted by his desire for fellowship with his people. His assurance that I stand at the door and knock does not anticipate the future entrance into God’s kingdom; rather, it is a sign of Christ’s present availability to restore fellowship with the believer who hears my voice (cf. John 10:1–18). Thus, the promise that Christ will come in and eat with him, and he with me is best understood as a symbol of his loving response to the one who is earnest and repents. This supper is neither eschatological nor eucharistic; rather it celebrates the restoration of fellowship.

3:21–22 / The closing benediction recalls the opening terms for Christ’s triumph and authority in the history of this congregation’s life. Even as Christ has already triumphed (cf. 5:5) as God’s faithful and true witness (3:14); even as God enthroned him, and he sat down with my Father on his throne as ruler of God’s creation (3:14), so now Christ promises the community of overcomers the right to sit with me on my throne. The fellowship promised in 3:20 is qualified by this imagery of shared rule with the crucified and reigning Lord. Its fulfillment will conclude Revelation (20:4–6; 22:5) and thereby interprets the previous seven promises made to all the overcomers in the seven congregations as “their last and final privilege” (Beasley-Murray, Revelation, p. 108).