One of my Scariest Verses

There are a lot of verses in the Bible. Some are delightful. Some are convicting. Some are hard to figure out. Some are, frankly, a bit scary.

One of the scariest ones I know of is the one that is quite popular in most circles.

"Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with Me." (Rev 3:20)

"Scary? What's scary about that?" We know this one. It's offered at presentations of the Gospel. It's included in invitations to come to Christ. It's friendly. It's warm. It's not scary.

Unless, of course, you understand the context.

Jesus is writing His own epistles here -- seven letters to seven churches. The last one is to the church in Laodicea. It isn't a happy letter. They think they're fine, but they're not. "You say, 'I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing,' not realizing that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked" (Rev 3:17). He counsels them to get resources from Him (Rev 3:18) and tells them He disciplines those whom He loves, warning them to repent (Rev 3:19). And then He gives them that verse.

"I'm still not getting it," you might be saying. It sounds so inviting, right?

Except what we forget is that Jesus is talking to a church. This isn't a call to the unsaved. This isn't a welcome invitation to unbelievers. He is talking to a church, to supposed believers. He is standing outside, not inside. (Apparently not even two or three are gathered, right?) He is begging apparent Christians to let Him in, to have a relationship with Him because ... they aren't.

Some commentators believe that these seven letters are to churches that represent church history. They say that the church in Laodicea represents our church age. That is scary. "You think you're fine; you're not. You're really not. The Son of God is not part of your church." He calls them lukewarm and tells them it makes Him want to vomit (Rev 3:16). They think they're healthy and wealthy and they're not. And this is real stuff.

Maybe it's our church age and maybe it's not. What we do know is that it represents something real, something about which Christ is genuinely concerned. So we need to ask ourselves if this is us. Is this today's church age? Is it today's American church? Is it the local church we are in? The reality is that there will be churches that feel like they're rich and prosperous and healthy and they are, in fact, wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked. Since the church in Laodicea didn't know it, apparently it's entirely possible that we might not know it. I personally find the notion that the One we think we are worshiping on Sunday is actually outside rather than inside to be a terrifying notion, something to be sure to avoid at all costs.