The letter to the church in Laodicea
The letter to the church of Laodicea is the most frequently preached letter in Revelation, so most of us already know about the problem of being lukewarm. But do we really know the context behind that image? It matters here more than usual, since Laodicea is the only church that receives no praise at all — not even a little.
The historical background
Laodicea sat at the crossroads of several trade routes and was an extremely wealthy city:
- it functioned as something like the Swiss bank of Asia Minor,
- its sheep farming produced valuable black wool,
- and it had a well-known medical center famous for its eye ointments.
It had no local spring of its own, though: its water arrived through an aqueduct from mineral springs some distance away, near the hot springs that fed neighboring Hierapolis to the north. By the time it reached the city it had cooled and picked up heavy mineral sediment along the way — a poor substitute for both Hierapolis’s famous hot, therapeutic water and the cold, refreshing water of Colossae further up the valley. Every detail of Jesus’ rebuke below trades on this local reputation.
Jesus’ view
Jesus comes to this church as the “True Witness” and the “Amen,” a pointed contrast to a church that has lost the ability to see itself truly. Their core problem is a lack of self-awareness: they consider themselves God’s gift to the world, when in reality they are failing exactly in the very ways they think they are strong.
The problem
Jesus approaches them as a merchant — a figure they can relate to — offering them, free of charge, the very goods they believe they already possess in the best available version: gold refined in the fire in place of their banking wealth, white garments in place of their prized black wool, and true eyesalve in place of their famous medical remedy. They assume that living a respectable life is enough to make a great church: no glaring sins, faithful tithing, regular Bible reading, and so on.
Their real problem is that they are lukewarm, and the image is drawn straight from the temperature of water. In that culture, water was valued in two states: hot, useful for healing purposes like the hot springs of Hierapolis, or cold, refreshing to drink like the water of Colossae. Laodicea’s own water supply, notably, arrived lukewarm through an aqueduct, having lost its heat along the way — a local joke Jesus turns into a spiritual diagnosis. The church has neither of the useful qualities: only lukewarm, mineral-laden water that gets spat back out the moment it’s tasted.
There are many ways to be an effective church — evangelism, prayer, healing, ministering to the poor, and more — each with its own real purpose. The Laodicean congregation had settled into none of them, and had become just as useless as their own lukewarm water.
The solution
Jesus calls them out of their complacency and knocks at their door. This is not an altar call aimed at unbelievers — some hear in it an echo of the lover calling to the beloved: an appeal for intimacy with those already inside, not a summons to outsiders.
And if they listen, the promise is astonishing: they will sit with him on his own throne. The twenty-four elders already have thrones of their own around God’s throne (Revelation 4:4) — but Jesus offers the Laodiceans a share in his throne specifically, the same way he himself shares his Father’s throne (v. 21). Is that promise enough to shake Laodicea out of the way it sees itself?