The Laodicean state of Christendom

The Seven Churches as a Prophetic Panorama

In Rev. 2–3, we find seven epistles addressed to the seven churches in Asia. In keeping with the character of the book in which they appear, these epistles are prophetic in scope. They record the judgements of the divine Judge, who appears in the midst of the churches (see Rev. 1:13–20), examining them and delivering His verdicts.

Together, they present a panorama of the Church’s history. They provide a complete outline of the whole course of professing Christianity as it declines from bad to worse, until at last it reaches a condition that compels the Lord utterly to reject that which bears His name. Here we can do no more than trace the progression briefly and identify the leading features of these seven prophetic pictures.

Ephesus: The Abandonment of First Love

The first epistle is addressed to the church at Ephesus and is recorded in Rev. 2:1–7. Here we see the original cause of the decline that began during the apostolic age: “But I have this against you, that you have left your first love” (v. 4). The cooling of the Church’s affection for Christ was the source of all the evil that followed.

There was much outward zeal, but the heart was not right; and where love declines, evil practices soon follow. This was already true at the early stage represented by the first of these seven epistles. At Ephesus there were those who called themselves apostles and were not (v. 2), together with the Nicolaitans, whose deeds both Christ and the Ephesian believers hated (v. 6). The command, “Therefore remember from where you have fallen, and repent and do the deeds you did at first” (v. 5), marks the beginning of the downward path.

Smyrna: Persecution and Martyrdom

In the second epistle, addressed to the church at Smyrna and recorded in Rev. 2:8–11, we have a prophetic picture of the conditions that prevailed from John’s time until the beginning of the fourth century AD—a period of persecution and martyrdom. Here we are shown a Judaising form of Christianity spreading within the Church, and reference is made to those who claim to be Jews and are not, but are “a synagogue of Satan” (v. 9).

Pergamum: The Church Joined to the World

In the epistle to the third church—Pergamum (Rev. 2:12–17)—the advance of evil is even more apparent. The prophetic application of this epistle carries us forward to the days of Constantine, when the Church and the world joined hands. This unholy alliance was foreshadowed by the name of the church addressed, for Pergamum signifies a marriage. Here we read of the place “where Satan’s throne is” (v. 13).

The Nicolaitans are mentioned again. At Ephesus, however, it was “the deeds of the Nicolaitans” (v. 6) that were in view; here, it is “the teaching of the Nicolaitans” (v. 15). False practices had now become articles of faith. Notice the progression: at first the Church hated their deeds (v. 6); here, their evil beliefs were tolerated and cherished.

Thyatira: Ecclesiastical Corruption

In the fourth epistle—to Thyatira (Rev. 2:18–29)—an even more corrupt ecclesiastical condition is disclosed. We are carried forward to the rise of Roman Catholicism, which is represented here by “Jezebel”:

‘But I have this against you, that you tolerate the woman Jezebel, who calls herself a prophetess, and she teaches and deceives My slaves so that they commit sexual immorality and eat things sacrificed to idols. And I gave her time to repent, and she does not wish to repent of her sexual immorality’ (vv. 20–21).

That period of opportunity began at the time of the Reformation and has continued until the present, yet the Papacy remains unchanged.

Sardis: Protestantism in Decline

In the fifth epistle, addressed to the church at Sardis (Rev. 3:1–6), we are brought to the days of Martin Luther and his contemporaries, when many of God’s people were delivered from Popery. Notice the words, “you have a name” (v. 1). That name was Protestantism, which expressed both their claim and their testimony.

But notice the rest of the sentence: “you have a name that you are alive, but you are dead.” This is how matters have proved to be, and so they remain today. Protestantism is now little more than a name; its vitality departed long ago. The language of vv. 2–3 anticipated this latter-day condition:

‘Wake up, and strengthen the things that remain, which were about to die, for I have not found your deeds complete in the sight of My God. So remember what you have received and heard; and keep it, and repent.’

Sadly, this warning went unheeded. But someone may ask, ‘Are all within the bounds of Protestantism now spiritually dead?’ No. Notice the prophetic precision of this epistle: “But you have a few people in Sardis who have not soiled their garments” (v. 4).

Philadelphia: Brotherly Love and an Open Door

In the sixth epistle, addressed to the church at Philadelphia (Rev. 3:7–13), we are brought to the nineteenth century. Three things should be noticed here.

First, Philadelphia means brotherly love, and it was particularly during the nineteenth century that this Christian grace was recognised and displayed. Not until then was the truth of the unity of the Church recovered and the shared brotherhood of believers practically acknowledged.

Second, the Lord set before this church “an open door” (v. 8), a door that He Himself had opened. This was the door leading to the foreign mission field. It was not until the nineteenth century that age-old barriers were so wonderfully removed by God and worldwide evangelism became practically possible.

Third, the words “you have a little power” (v. 8) accurately describe the condition of the Church during that period.

Laodicea: The Final State of the Professing Church

We now turn to consider at greater length the seventh epistle, addressed to the church of the Laodiceans (Rev. 3:14–22). This epistle portrays the final state of the professing Church on earth—a state characterised by lofty claims and self-sufficiency, yet so utterly nauseating to Christ that He declares:

‘I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot; I wish that you were cold or hot. So because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of My mouth’ (vv. 15–16).

The word Laodicea means the rule of the laity, or the people. It is the people’s church, not Christ’s, for notice that He is outside it (v. 20), standing and knocking for admission.

Its condition is described as lukewarm. It is neither one thing nor the other, but partly hot and partly cold. How accurately this describes the present condition of the professing Church! It is a state of mixture: mixed with the world; claiming to be heavenly, yet clinging to everything earthly; bearing Christ’s name, yet misrepresenting Him and putting Him to open shame.

There is much religion, but little life; much activity, but little vitality; much being done, but little accomplished; much display, but little power. It is neither hot nor cold—neither wholly committed to God nor wholly committed to the Devil. It is lukewarm, as though hot and cold water had been poured into the same vessel. This is precisely what we find in the churches today: intense worldliness and wickedness covered with a thin veneer of humanitarian and religious pretence.

Boasting, Blindness and Self-Sufficiency

Another characteristic of Laodicea is its boastful spirit: “Because you say, ‘I am rich, and have become wealthy, and have need of nothing’” (v. 17). The claims of the professing Church are loud and lofty, but how shallow they truly are. Its resources are paraded ostentatiously, yet the profession is empty.

There is self-conceit, impressive-looking achievement, architectural splendour, intellectual attainment and influential numbers—but Christ is excluded. Unlike all the churches addressed before it, this church contains nothing whatsoever that Christ commends. What a sorrowful commentary on its true condition.

There is much that He condemns: “and you do not know that you are wretched and pitiable and poor and blind and naked” (v. 17). The Church is utterly ignorant of its actual and deplorable condition. Its leaders are crying, “Peace and safety!” when “destruction will come upon them suddenly” (1 Thess. 5:3). This is unspeakably sad.

Whenever we recognise our true condition and need, there is hope, for recognising and acknowledging weakness is the secret of strength (2 Cor. 12:9). But self-satisfaction is fatal. For self-righteousness there is no remedy. Although the professing Church is self-sufficient and self-righteous, it will soon be spat out by the One whose name it bears.

The Closing Meal of the Day

Notice especially that this Laodicean epistle is the last in the series. It presents the final state of the professing Church on earth. In keeping with this, observe the indication of time. The Lord speaks of dining together (v. 20). It is evening—the closing meal of the day. The end is at hand. The Church is feasting inside while the Saviour stands outside.

This is what was foretold long ago, and it is what we now witness in Christendom. Christ stands outside the professing Church—unwanted, unheard and unknown. We repeat: this epistle is the final one in the series. No eighth epistle follows it. The Laodicean condition is the last phase of apostate Christendom. Nothing remains but for it to be spat out.

The very next thing recorded in Revelation after the Laodicean epistle is this:

‘After these things I looked, and behold, a door standing open in heaven, and the first voice which I had heard, like the sound of a trumpet speaking with me, said, “Come up here”’ (Rev. 4:1).

This clearly symbolises the catching up of the saints.