Meadowbrooke Church

Meadowbrooke Church
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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

  1. 5D AGO

    To the Church in Philadelphia

    Meadowbrooke Church

    49 min

  2. MAR 8

    The Church in Sardis

    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 gi

    49 min

  3. MAR 1

    The Church in Thyatira

    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

    48 min

  4. FEB 22

    The Church in Pergamum

    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-indulge

    44 min

  5. FEB 15

    To The Church in Smyrna

    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 matt

    52 min

  6. FEB 9

    To the Church in Ephesus

    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

    47 min

  7. FEB 1

    The First and the Last

    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,

    54 min

  8. JAN 25

    Behold Our Great God

    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

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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

Information

  • Creator
    Meadowbrooke Church
  • Years Active
    2019 - 2026
  • Episodes
    100
  • Rating
    Clean
  • Copyright
    © Meadowbrooke Church
  • Show Website
    Meadowbrooke Church