GraceUncovered

Authors home articles Gracelife

GRACE BLOGS COLLECTION

What’s so special about Christ’s right hand?

by

While writing my book Letters from Jesus, I discovered a lot of gems in scripture. Some of these were hidden in the introductions Jesus gives his letters to the seven churches. Consider this introduction from his letter to the church in Ephesus:

These are the words of him who holds the seven stars in his right hand and walks among the seven golden lampstands. (Rev 2:1)

This is a truly remarkable picture of Jesus. But what does it mean?

Jesus takes a selfie

If the Bible is an art gallery, the Revelation letters are a special wing containing seven portraits of Jesus. These portraits are found at the beginning of each of the seven letters, and each is a treasure.

For starters, each is a self-portrait painted by Jesus himself. We are not hearing about Jesus second hand, and we are not seeing him through the eyes of another. This is Jesus revealing Jesus using word pictures found nowhere else in the Bible.

In the first portrait, we see Jesus holding seven stars. The seven stars in the Lord’s right hand are the angels or leaders of the seven churches (see Rev. 1:20). In scripture, those who teach the gospel of righteousness are called stars (Dan. 12:3), while false teachers are called wandering stars (Jude 1:13).

Why are the stars in his right hand? What is so special about that hand?

The right hand of God signifies his power and strength. “Your right hand, O Lord, is majestic in power,” sang Moses. “Your right hand, O Lord, shatters the enemy” (Ex. 15:6).

Held by the right hand of God

In the Psalms, God’s right hand saves us, holds us, and shelters us (Ps. 17:7, 60:5, 63:8). His right hand is also the place of honor (Acts 2:33–34).

So when Jesus tells the seven stars or pastors that he is holding them in his right hand, he is saying, “You have nothing to fear, for I am holding you with my strong and mighty right hand.”

In truth, Jesus holds all of us in his mighty right hand (see John 10:28). He holds you and me.

So the next time you have some anxiety-inducing thought about whether you might stumble at the final hurdle and be lost, incline your ear to Jesus and hear what he says. He says this:

I’ve got you. You have nothing to fear. No one can snatch you from my strong and mighty right hand.

Amen.

___________

Hang out with Paul on Facebook, Insta and Twitter.

Join the grace revolution. Become a supporter today and get bonus articles, study notes, and draft chapters of forthcoming books!

Jesus at the door

by

Jesus knows us better than anybody. He speaks our language. He talks to us about things that nobody else cares about. He listens.

And he does all this because he loves us.

This was something I learned again and again while doing research for my book, Letters from Jesus. The letters from Jesus to the seven churches are full of idioms and local references that mean nothing to us. But they meant much to the people who heard them. Consider this well-known verse:

Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and will dine with him, and he with me. (Rev. 3:20)

This is Jesus speaking to the smug Laodiceans, and it is one of the most radical pictures of grace you will ever find. In my book it takes a whole chapter to unpack the grace found in this letter, but let me give you a taste by unpacking these few words: “Behold, I stand at the door and knock.” The following is extracted from my book…

Who’s knocking on the door?

No Roman.

Under Roman law, visiting officials had the power to requisition lodgings for themselves and their entourage. Even though it was an imposition to host, feed, and even pay hungry soldiers, nobody could shut their door. But the Laodiceans weren’t nobody. They were a proud people who, in 40BC, closed their doors to a Roman general called Labienus Parthicus.

On another occasion, a wealthy Laodicean called Polemo came home to find the future emperor Antoninus had billeted himself in his house. An angry Polemo kicked him out. His actions captured the independent Laodicean spirit. “Other, weaker Asian cities may roll out the welcome mat to the Roman oppressors, but we Laodiceans are having none of it.”

The Laodiceans were famous for their locked and closed doors, and this is one of their more appealing traits. Shutting one’s door to a hostile invader is admirable.

But Jesus is no Roman oppressor. Although he is the Ruler of All, he does not impose himself upon us. He does not demand that we open our doors and slay the fatted calf for his benefit. Instead, he gently asks us to open our door so that he may come in and dine with us.

Grace for Laodiceans

In the Gospels, Jesus promises that if we knock the door will be opened (Matt. 7:7). But the Laodiceans aren’t knocking. They’re not the sort of people who do.

“We have need of nothing,” they boasted. They won’t come to Jesus, so the Ruler of Creation comes to them. It is a stunning act of condescension.

The Laodiceans’ religion is offensive, yet Jesus is not offended. Their self-righteousness stinks to high heaven, yet Jesus does not withdraw in a holy huff. Nor does he call down fire from above. Instead, he speaks tenderly with lovingkindness.

Those unacquainted with the grace of God make much of the punishment that Jesus will supposedly inflict on underperforming churches. Yet here is Jesus outside the worst church in the Bible hoping to enter and dine with them.

Was there ever a more breathtaking picture of grace?

By seeking to justify themselves, the Laodiceans had rejected Christ. Yet here is Jesus offering undeserved acceptance. They had spat upon his good name and insulted the Spirit of Grace, and Jesus replies, “Let’s eat.”

Whose door is it?

It is the door of our hearts. The letter is for the church, but the invitation is universal and personal. Jesus said, “If anyone hears my voice.” His invitation is for you and me and everyone besides.

Jesus has not come to the marketplace to address the crowd; he has come to your door and mine to meet each of us where we are at. We all must choose what to do with the Savior outside our door.

In the letter to the Laodiceans we see a radical demonstration of the one-way love that flows from heaven to earth. The Laodiceans are not nice people, but Jesus says he loves them and wants to spend time with them. Jesus does the same for all of us.

“If anyone.”

He loves us just because. Of course, he wants us to respond to his love. There’s no point bringing the wine and bread if we’re not going to open the door.

How do we open the door?

By saying yes to Jesus. That’s it. There are no hoops to jump through, there is no fitness test, no entrance exam. Some worry that they have to believe right or muster sufficient faith to enter the kingdom, but your heavenly Father has made it as easy as possible for you to respond to his love.

What if I don’t have enough faith?

Faith is simply a positive response to Jesus. In the faith conversation, Jesus takes the initiative and we respond. He speaks, we listen. He knocks, we open the door. He enters, we feast.

What does it mean to dine with Jesus?

To dine is to enjoy one another’s company. It’s resting from your labor, leaving the kitchen, and sitting at the feet of Jesus.

It’s the ultimate happy meal.

___________

If you enjoy Escape to Reality, sign up to our email list and we’ll notify you about new articles as soon they come out. No spam, we promise.

If you’d like to see these messages of radical grace reach more people, support us via our Patreon page.

Jesus at the door

by

Jesus knows us better than anybody. He speaks our language. He talks to us about things that nobody else cares about. He listens.

And he does all this because he loves us.

This was something I learned again and again while doing research for my book, Letters from Jesus. The letters from Jesus to the seven churches are full of idioms and local references that mean nothing to us. But they meant much to the people who heard them. Consider this well-known verse:

Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and will dine with him, and he with me. (Rev. 3:20)

This is Jesus speaking to the smug Laodiceans, and it is one of the most radical pictures of grace you will ever find. In my book it takes a whole chapter to unpack the grace found in this letter, but let me give you a taste by unpacking these few words: “Behold, I stand at the door and knock.” The following is extracted from my book…

Who’s knocking on the door?

No Roman.

Under Roman law, visiting officials had the power to requisition lodgings for themselves and their entourage. Even though it was an imposition to host, feed, and even pay hungry soldiers, nobody could shut their door. But the Laodiceans weren’t nobody. They were a proud people who, in 40BC, closed their doors to a Roman general called Labienus Parthicus.

On another occasion, a wealthy Laodicean called Polemo came home to find the future emperor Antoninus had billeted himself in his house. An angry Polemo kicked him out. His actions captured the independent Laodicean spirit. “Other, weaker Asian cities may roll out the welcome mat to the Roman oppressors, but we Laodiceans are having none of it.”

The Laodiceans were famous for their locked and closed doors, and this is one of their more appealing traits. Shutting one’s door to a hostile invader is admirable.

But Jesus is no Roman oppressor. Although he is the Ruler of All, he does not impose himself upon us. He does not demand that we open our doors and slay the fatted calf for his benefit. Instead, he gently asks us to open our door so that he may come in and dine with us.

Grace for Laodiceans

In the Gospels, Jesus promises that if we knock the door will be opened (Matt. 7:7). But the Laodiceans aren’t knocking. They’re not the sort of people who do.

“We have need of nothing,” they boasted. They won’t come to Jesus, so the Ruler of Creation comes to them. It is a stunning act of condescension.

The Laodiceans’ religion is offensive, yet Jesus is not offended. Their self-righteousness stinks to high heaven, yet Jesus does not withdraw in a holy huff. Nor does he call down fire from above. Instead, he speaks tenderly with lovingkindness.

Those unacquainted with the grace of God make much of the punishment that Jesus will supposedly inflict on underperforming churches. Yet here is Jesus outside the worst church in the Bible hoping to enter and dine with them.

Was there ever a more breathtaking picture of grace?

By seeking to justify themselves, the Laodiceans had rejected Christ. Yet here is Jesus offering undeserved acceptance. They had spat upon his good name and insulted the Spirit of Grace, and Jesus replies, “Let’s eat.”

Whose door is it?

It is the door of our hearts. The letter is for the church, but the invitation is universal and personal. Jesus said, “If anyone hears my voice.” His invitation is for you and me and everyone besides.

Jesus has not come to the marketplace to address the crowd; he has come to your door and mine to meet each of us where we are at. We all must choose what to do with the Savior outside our door.

In the letter to the Laodiceans we see a radical demonstration of the one-way love that flows from heaven to earth. The Laodiceans are not nice people, but Jesus says he loves them and wants to spend time with them. Jesus does the same for all of us.

“If anyone.”

He loves us just because. Of course, he wants us to respond to his love. There’s no point bringing the wine and bread if we’re not going to open the door.

How do we open the door?

By saying yes to Jesus. That’s it. There are no hoops to jump through, there is no fitness test, no entrance exam. Some worry that they have to believe right or muster sufficient faith to enter the kingdom, but your heavenly Father has made it as easy as possible for you to respond to his love.

What if I don’t have enough faith?

Faith is simply a positive response to Jesus. In the faith conversation, Jesus takes the initiative and we respond. He speaks, we listen. He knocks, we open the door. He enters, we feast.

What does it mean to dine with Jesus?

To dine is to enjoy one another’s company. It’s resting from your labor, leaving the kitchen, and sitting at the feet of Jesus.

It’s the ultimate happy meal.

___________

If you enjoy Escape to Reality, sign up to our email list and we’ll notify you about new articles as soon they come out. No spam, we promise.

If you’d like to see these messages of radical grace reach more people, support us via our Patreon page.

Faithful unto death?! What if I’m not 

by

Be faithful until death, and I will give you the crown of life. (Revelation 2:10c)

But what if I’m not faithful until death? Jesus remains faithful; you still get a crown.

A mind untouched by grace twists the promises of Jesus into tests that must be passed and commands that must be obeyed. “Jesus was faithful unto death; you’d better be faithful too.”

And in the richest traditions of the old covenant, proper behavior is incentivized with carrots and sticks. “Be faithful and you’ll get a crown. Be unfaithful and you won’t.” This is surely bad news for the saint who stumbles at the eleventh hour.

Others point to the crowns given to champion athletes as though only some win the prize. “You have to be faithful to the end to qualify for the reward.” This, too, is a graceless analogy for it puts the focus on you and your performance instead of Jesus and his.

The temptation to view life as a test comes naturally to those of us who have been raised in a world that glorifies achievement, but Jesus doesn’t speak that language. He does not dispense gold stars or crowns for good performance, but he crowns the undeserving and justifies the sinner.

Many believers worry that they might deny Jesus under pressure. They fear that if someone held a gun to their head and forced them to renounce the name of the Lord, they’d capitulate and be damned for all time. They worry because Jesus said, “Whoever denies me before men, I will deny before my Father in heaven” (Matt. 10:33).

But Jesus wasn’t talking about Christians with guns to their heads; he was talking about those who refuse to confess him as Lord.

For if we died with him, we will also live with him… If we deny him, he also will deny us. If we are faithless, he remains faithful, for he cannot deny himself. (2 Timothy 2:11–13)

This verse is contrasting unbelievers (who deny Jesus) with believers (who identify with Christ’s death). Those who refuse salvation shall not have it, but those who have died with Christ will never be cast away. Even if we falter at the last hurdle and prove faithless, he remains faithful. One with the Lord, your future is safe, for he cannot deny himself.

This anxiety that we might fail Christ under pressure and be damned for eternity reveals a fundamental insecurity, a hairline crack in our faith. We repair it by fixing our eyes on Jesus and fortifying our minds with the many promises of his word. “No one can snatch you from my strong right hand,” said Jesus. “I will never let you go.”

What a promise! Even if we let him go, he will never let go of us. This is good news. And if you believe it, you will find the strength to hold on to him no matter what.

But what about this scripture that comes later in John’s book?

He who overcomes will inherit these things, and I will be his God and he will be my son. But for the cowardly and unbelieving and abominable and murderers and immoral persons and sorcerers and idolaters and all liars, their part will be in the lake that burns with fire and brimstone, which is the second death. (Revelation 21:7–8)

This scripture has been used to terrorize the saints. “If someone put a gun to your head and said, ‘Deny Jesus,’ would you prove cowardly? If so, you’re going to hell.” God help us. Admissions made under duress carry no weight in a court of law, so why do we think a just God would take them seriously?

The Apostle Paul famously kept the faith, but what if he hadn’t? What if he had fallen at the final hurdle? What if he had folded under Roman pressure and renounced the Lord? He would still get a crown of life! We may disown the Lord, but he will never disown us because he cannot disown himself.

Eternal life is a gift of grace (John 17:2, Rom. 6:23). It is not a reward given to those who pass the torture test.

So why be faithful?

It’s the life-giving choice.

The exhortation to be faithful found at the end of verse 10 is the counterpoint to “do not fear” at the start of that verse. Jesus is offering us a choice. You can be fearful or faithful, and faithful is better.

Fearful is what you get when you lean on your own resources; faithful is what you are when you hold on to Jesus.

Fix your eyes on the source of your suffering and you will fear. But see the Savior who died but lives forevermore, and you will endure.

—-

Want to promote your grace blog or ministry on Escape to Reality? It’s free!

Good books on grace from new authors are coming out every month. Here is the latest crop.

What does it mean to have an ear to hear?

by

At the end of the Bible we find letters from Jesus to seven churches. At the end of each letter, he says this: “He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches” (see Rev. 2:7a). We like to think that we have heard Jesus. But how do we know we have? How can we be sure? What does it mean to have an ear to hear? It means spiritual truth comes by revelation. “He who has an ear let him hear what the Spirit is saying” is one of Jesus’ favorite expressions. It’s the punch line to each of the Revelation letters as well as several of his parables. He’s saying, “Don’t just hear my words; receive the Spirit of revelation.” Did you know it’s possible to hear the words of Jesus and not hear what the Holy Spirit is saying? Think of it as a choice between earthly and heavenly wisdom. The former originates in our minds, while the latter comes from the Spirit. An example may help: If you read the Bible and come away with a list of things you must do to earn God’s favor, then you have received earthly [...]

Who will Jesus spit out?

by

“I will spit you out of my mouth” (Rev. 3:16b). This spitting out passage, which comes from Christ’s letter to the Laodiceans, is sometimes used to terrorize the bride of Christ. “Fail to perform and the Lord will reject you. If you’re not on fire, you’ll be in the fire!” Such an evil line is a million miles from the gracious heart of the One who is faithful and true. Who will Jesus spew out? Not members of his own body. Some Bibles translate Jesus’ words as, “You make me want to vomit.” Have you ever vomited up a kidney or a toe? It’s a ridiculous notion, yet this is what some fear will happen. “Jesus vomits body parts.” Thankfully, this horrendous picture is refuted by scripture: The one who comes to me I will most certainly not cast out [I will never, no never, reject one of them who comes to me]. (John 6:37, AMP) Since Jesus will never reject those who come to him, who is in danger of being spit out? Those who are too proud to come. Who will be rejected by Christ’s mouth? It is those who deny their need for Jesus. “Those who deny [...]

Why did Jesus send letters to angels?

by

People sometimes dismiss the letters to the Seven Churches because they were addressed to angels. “To the angel of the church in Ephesus; to the angel of the church in Smyrna,” etc. It sounds weird, a bit mystical. Don’t angels live in heaven? Why would Jesus send mail to angels? He didn’t. At least not to those sorts of angels. Here’s what really happened: The Apostle John had a vision. Jesus told John to record the vision in a book and then send that book along with some letters to “the seven churches that are in Asia” (Rev. 1:4). This is not the Asia we know, but the Roman Province that was situated on the western end of the Anatolian peninsula in modern Turkey. The letters were for the churches in Ephesus, Smyrna, Pergamum, Thyatira, Sardis, Philadelphia, and Laodicea (Rev. 1:11). Why these seven churches? What did they have in common? John probably knew them all. Having lived in Ephesus and traveled around the region, he would have been well acquainted with the challenges facing each one. Look at the map of the seven cities and you will see that the order of the letters begins with Ephesus, the city [...]

Three things people get wrong about the Laodiceans

by

The Laodicean church is probably the most infamous church in history.

Preachers use it as an example of how Jesus deals with slack Christians. “Jesus is angry with these guys and he’ll be angry with you unless you get on fire for the Lord!” Demonstrating their expertise on the subject, they refer to an ancient aqueduct that brought lukewarm water to the city. “Just as that water made people sick, you make Jesus sick when you fail to perform.”

Yet there are three things people regularly get wrong about the Laodiceans:

  1. Contrary to what you may have heard, Jesus did not rebuke them for their lack of zeal
  2. There was no aqueduct bringing hot water from Hierapolis or cold water from Colossae
  3. Jesus didn’t hate the lukewarm Laodiceans; he loved them

Are you surprised? It’s all true! Jesus’s acceptance of us is not earned through enthusiastic participation in church activities; most pastors only know the aqueduct myth because they heard it from someone who heard it from someone; and despite their poor behavior, Jesus deeply loved the Laodiceans. But don’t take my word for it. Look at how Jesus closes his letter to the Laodiceans: “Those whom I love, I reprove and discipline” (Rev. 3:19).

Those whom I love.

Commentators typically dismiss the Laodiceans as the worst of the seven churches. If so, the good news is that Jesus loves even the worst of us. The Laodiceans were a pompous pack of poseurs. Smug, rich, and full of themselves, they likely had few friends. Yet here is Jesus, the friend of sinners and poseurs, extending the hand of friendship. It is an astonishing display of grace.

Jesus loves the Laodiceans

Jesus’ letter to the Laodiceans is one of the greatest love letters ever written, yet many don’t see it. They hear the rebuke and they picture an angry God who’s out to punish nonperformers. Read the letter to the end. Hear Jesus speaking to “those whom I love.”

A reader once told me the Laodiceans were disgusting and useless, and perhaps they were. But they were also loved, and this makes all the difference. Many people don’t realize this. It’s like they haven’t read the whole letter. Jesus loved the Laodiceans. That’s why he died for them. That’s why he wrote to them.

This love for the Laodiceans is so inexplicable, so unreasonable, that some imagine Jesus is no longer speaking to them. “The last few verses of Revelation chapter three are for the other six churches.”

But that won’t wash. The Spirit is speaking to all the churches, even the wretched and unlikable ones. Words of correction may be directed to certain individuals, but God’s love is for every single one of us without exception.

The Laodiceans thought they merited God’s love on account of their all-round awesomeness and good works, but love that is earned is not love. Jesus shatters their illusion by revealing their wretchedness. Then he says, “I love you in your wretchedness.”

That’s love.

The letter to the Laodiceans makes many people frown. “Look at those awful people. God hates them and I hate them too.” Yet this letter ought to make us smile and jump for joy. “If Jesus loves these guys, he surely loves me!”

Christ’s letter to the Laodiceans is sometimes interpreted as Exhibit A in the Manual on Church Discipline. “Remember what Jesus said to those lukewarm losers.” It ought to be recognized as one of the greatest displays of divine grace. “Remember that Jesus loves Laodiceans!”

What does it mean to reprove and discipline?

“To reprove is to punish,” says the grim-faced preacher. “Jesus punishes those he loves.”

He does no such thing, and why would he, since he has borne our punishment on the cross? To penalize the Laodiceans, or anyone, would be to diminish his own costly sacrifice.

To reprove means to convict or expose. To discipline means to disciple or train. These activities are connected because one of the ways our loving Father trains us is by turning on the lights and exposing the dangers around us.

The Laodiceans were heading the wrong way. Jesus spoke sharply not to shame them but to save them and turn them around. By revealing the bankruptcy of their self-righteousness and the depths of their wretchedness, he hoped they would come to him for grace.

Pride is a prison. It diminishes us and severs our connection with others and the Lord. The illusion of self-sufficiency fills our mind with falsehoods. “I don’t need anyone or anything.” Thank God for the true and faithful Witness who speaks truth to our lies.

When our conceits have deceived us and our successes have seduced us, thank God for a friend like Jesus.

—

Extracted and adapted from Letters from Jesus.

Paul’s new book, The Chocolate Gospel, is available on Patreon now.

How to read the Bible

by

The actor Charlie Chaplin once entered a Charlie Chaplin lookalike contest and lost. True story.

Why did Charlie Chaplin go unrecognized? Surely it was because we see what we expect to see. No one expected the real Charlie Chaplin to show up, so no one saw him when he did.

Even so, it was quite an oversight. It’s not like Charlie Chaplin was unknown. At the time, he was the most recognizable person on earth. Along with the other contestants, he would have been scrutinized to see how much like Chaplin he was. Yet nobody saw him.

The same principle applies when we come to the scriptures: We see what we expect to see. Or to put it another way, what you believe determines what you see.

If you believe the Bible is full of rules we must keep to please the Lord, you will find rules whenever you read the Bible. And if you believe we must work hard or avoid sin to please God, you will find tasks to complete and sins to avoid on every page. Our beliefs filter what we see.

Me? I expect to see Jesus on every page and in every book from Genesis to Revelation.

Is this not why the Bible was written—to reveal Jesus? Is it not his story? All the histories, poems, laws, songs, and stories of the Old and New Testaments point to him. To paraphrase Augustine, “Jesus is in the old concealed; Jesus is in the new revealed.” Or to quote The Jesus Storybook Bible, every story whispers his name.

How to read scripture in context

Any preacher worth their salt will tell you that we need to read the Bible in context, but what is the proper context? Jesus is. He is the Living Word who gives meaning to the written word.

The word context means weave together. We take the words and weave a story. Try and weave a story from scripture without the central thread of Jesus Christ and you could end up with a bad story. This is why we need to wear Son-glasses when reading scripture. We don’t read the Bible to find principles for success (although it has plenty) or rules for living (ditto); we read it to connect with the Author of Life. We read it to grow in the grace and knowledge of Jesus Christ.

This seems obvious, no? But it is not common practice, particularly when it comes to reading the letters from Jesus.

Some interpret Christ’s letters through historical, cultural, or linguistic lenses. Others prefer a prophetic or dispensational approach. A lens, or hermeneutic, to use the proper word, is a tool for constructing a story. If your lens helps you to grow in the grace and knowledge of Jesus, it’s a good lens. But if your lens distracts you from Jesus, it’s a dud.

On the road to Emmaus, Jesus interpreted “all the scriptures,” from Moses to the prophets, through a Christocentric hermeneutic (Luke 24:27). He said, “This is all about me.” If the entire Old Testament, from Moses to the prophets, is all about Jesus, then so is the New Testament, from Matthew to Revelation.

With that in mind, let’s consider the first four words of the Book of Revelation:

The Revelation of Jesus Christ… (Revelation 1:1a)

What is the Book of Revelation about? It’s about Jesus. It is the revelation of Jesus Christ. Sure, it’s about other things as well. But like the rest of scripture, it is principally about Jesus, who has come and is coming again.

The New Testament was written by people who saw Jesus, and this is true of John’s Revelation.

“I saw one like a son of man,” said John, “and his face shone like the sun,” (Rev. 1:13, 16). The old apostle saw Jesus in all his glory and was told to “write what you see” (Rev. 1:11). When we read Revelation, we are reading what John saw. If we see what John saw—Jesus—we are reading correctly. If we see something else, such as a projection of ourselves and our shortcomings, we are reading it wrong.

It is tempting for us to study the scriptures to find stuff we must do, but a healthier approach is to see what Jesus has done and is now doing. For instance, in one of the seven letters, we find Jesus walking among the lampstands. It sounds mysterious, but it’s a powerful revelation of Christ-with-us. The lampstands, Jesus explains, are the churches. Jesus is walking among the churches.

How does this help us? It sets us free from the false image of an aloof and distant Lord. Jesus is among the lampstands meaning he is with us and for us. It’s good news for those who feel far from God.

We are changed by beholding Jesus, so my purpose in writing Letters from Jesus is to help you behold Jesus. In his letters we see aspects of Jesus that are found nowhere else in scripture. And we hear him say things that are recorded no other place.

In his letters we encounter his heart. While the Gospels record the words and actions of Jesus, his letters reveal his thoughts towards us, and they are good.

—

Extracted and adapted from Letters from Jesus: Finding Good News in Christ’s Letters to the Churches.

Who are the Nicolaitans among us?

by

The Nicolaitans are the boogeymen of the Bible. Since the scriptures say almost nothing about them – except that they were false teachers whose deeds Jesus hated (see Rev. 2) – they are a blank sheet onto which we can write just about anything. If there is a group in the church that disagrees with the pastor, you can just about guarantee they will be dismissed as divisive or Nicolaitan.

So who were the Nicolaitans?

They were false teachers who taught grace as a license to sin. They were not confused Christians. They were libertines who infiltrated the early church and introduced destructive heresies. They promised freedom, but were themselves slaves of depravity (2 Pet. 2:19).

False teachers and false apostles may seem like Biblical boogeymen, but they are Satan’s principle means for attacking the church from within (see 2 Cor. 11:13–15). Left unchecked, they destroy churches and ruin lives.

When John said, “Watch that you do not lose what we have accomplished that you may receive a full reward” (2 John 1:8), he was referring to smooth-talking deceivers who draw people to themselves and away from Jesus. Jude, the brother of James, offered a similar warning:

For certain individuals whose condemnation was written about long ago have secretly slipped in among you. They are ungodly people, who pervert the grace of our God into a license for immorality and deny Jesus Christ our only Sovereign and Lord. (Jude 1:4, NIV)

The Nicolaitans elevated intellect above faith, and Self above Savior. In so doing they denied the lordship of Jesus and undermined the faith of the weak.

Why did Jesus hate the works of the Nicolaitans?

Jesus told the Ephesians he hated the deeds of the Nicolaitans (Rev. 2:6), and a good question to ask is why. Commentators provide two unsatisfactory answers. Some frame the issue as one of lawbreaking. “The lawless Nicolaitans were violating the Apostolic Decree passed by the Jerusalem Council forbidding the consumption of idol foods” (see Acts 15:29). Then why didn’t Jesus say so? If the Nicolaitans were breaking the rules, why didn’t he lay down the law? Jesus didn’t mention the Apostolic Decree because there was no Apostolic Decree. The Jerusalem Council met to discuss whether the Gentile Christians should be circumcised and keep the Law of Moses. They did not reject the old law of circumcision only to replace it with new laws pertaining to idol feasts (Acts 15:20). We are under grace, not law.

Others frame the Nicolaitan issue as one of spiritual compromise, as though Jesus was upset that his church was spiritually impure. “Compromise arouses the jealousy of the Lord and causes him to remove his hand of protection.” The picture of Jesus as the jilted lover withdrawing in a huff is a horrendous distortion of God’s character. Jesus is not insecure, and purity is not the price you pay to earn his love. God’s love has no price tags.

So what was the problem with the Nicolaitans?

They put people in harm’s way and promoted unbelief in the goodness of God.

The idol-industrial complex of Pergamum was a machine for carrying out Satan’s dark agenda. From the Altar of Zeus to the humblest shrine, the city was geared towards the ruination of all who participated in the vile festivals.

The Pergamenes were enslaved to the power of sin and death. God’s plan for liberating them was the gospel of Jesus Christ. But the light of the gospel was being dimmed by an attitude of accommodation. The church, which was supposed to be an advertisement for the kingdom of heaven, was presenting a mixed message. Instead of offering a radical alternative to the devilish enterprise, some in the church were supporting it.

Why did Jesus hate the deeds of the Nicolaitans?

He was not angry because they were breaking the rules or compromising his standards. He was angry because they were feeding God’s children to the devil’s machine.

Jesus and the Apostles encouraged people to put their faith in God, while the false apostles and the Nicolaitans discouraged them. They may not have said it in so many words, but their message was “God cannot be trusted. Secure your future by worshipping demons.”

The fruit of their mixed-up message was appalling: Instead of idol worshippers coming to the church to find grace and freedom, the Christians were going to the temples and kowtowing to demons. Instead of spending themselves on behalf of the hungry and oppressed, the saints were subsidizing Satan.

The Ephesians hated what the Nicolaitans were doing, but the Pergamenes were ambivalent. They were so hung up on the “all things are lawful” part of Paul’s message that they forgot that “not all things are beneficial” (1 Cor. 10:23). When it came to what the Nicolaitans were teaching, they had no boundaries. “They make a good point,” said some. “I’m not so sure,” said others. They debated and discussed but they drew no line in the sand. So Jesus drew one for them. “I hate it.” End of debate. End of discussion.

Is there a modern-day example of Nicolaitan teaching?

Wherever you have a false teacher preaching grace as a license to sin, you have a Nicolaitan. False grace messages come in many forms but are easily recognized by their tacit approval of sin, usually in the form of sexual immorality. Modern-day Nicolaitans quote scripture and make bold claims about freedom, but the fruit of their message is bondage and death.

Make no mistake, Jesus hates the false grace message, but it’s important to understand why he hates it. He doesn’t hate it because he’s allergic to sinners or because he’s keen for us to keep the rules. He hates it because it destroys those who buy into it and because it renders his church ineffective. He hates it because counterfeit grace is a doorway to captivity.

It’s true that some treat grace as a license to sin. They say sinning is okay because God’s grace will cover any error. This is toxic teaching. God’s grace is indeed greater than your sin, but sin can ruin your life. Steer clear of those who preach a licentious message lest you lose the freedom that Christ has dearly bought.

From time to time we have to make difficult choices: Do we become all things to all men or do we take a stand? Do we join in or remain apart? When sin is involved and people are getting hurt, the choice is easy. God has called us to shine in a dark world, so shine, and have nothing to do with the deeds of darkness.

Jesus has given you a new name and a new identity. Your name is not sinner and your identity is not defined by your imperfect performance. You are a dearly loved child of God, so act like it. Be who God made you to be.

—

Extracted and adapted from Paul’s award-winning book, Letters from Jesus.

Good news for small churches

by

Jesus said the Philadelphians were doing well, “because you have a little power, have kept my word, and have not denied my name” (Rev. 3:8b).

What does it mean to have little power? A church with little power is a small or weak church. The Philadelphians weren’t anything special. They lacked the resources of their Laodicean neighbors, and they didn’t have the reputation of the Sardians. Like David, the shepherd boy, they were of little account in the eyes of man. But weakness is no barrier to God. If anything, it’s an advantage because God chooses the weak things of the world to shame the strong (1 Cor. 1:27).

A God who shares the stage with no one seems to delight in choosing the least qualified and the most unlikely. When he needed a man to lead Israel against the Midianites, he chose chicken-hearted Gideon. When he needed a herald for the gospel of grace, he chose law-loving Saul. And when he needed a father of many nations, he chose grey-haired Abram. In the economy of grace, the weak and unqualified seem to have the inside track.

If you were to tour the churches of Asia, you might be dazzled by the energetic Ephesians, the affluent Laodiceans, and the spiritual Sardians. And you might be tempted to dismiss the small Philadelphian church as inconsequential.

But Philadelphia was where the action was. Jesus had given this little church an open door that no one could shut. What a wonderful encouragement for those of us who think we have nothing to offer.

You may have no money, no reputation, no ability, no connections, no education, and no chance, but as long as you have the Lord, you have everything you need. You may have no power, but the Lord-with-the-key (see Rev. 3:7) has given you authority over all the power of the enemy (Luke 10:19).

How had they kept his word? They believed Jesus and took him at his word.

What made the Philadelphians special was this: They were believing believers who were persuaded that the Lord is good and trustworthy. This is the only clue to their commendation. Nothing else is recorded. Search the letter to the Philadelphians and you will not find seven steps to success, or twelve strategies for church outreach. The Philadelphians simply believed Jesus, and that made all the difference.

The question to ask is not why the Philadelphians had an open door, but why some of the other churches weren’t as fruitful. The answer is they were captive to unbelief. They put little stock in the grace of God.

The Ephesians’ unbelief was evident in the way they were working themselves to death. The Sardians’ unbelief was in their refusal to receive the gospel. And the Laodiceans’ unbelief was in their boast that they needed nothing from God. Unbelief takes many forms and not even believers, strangely, are immune from its insidious effects.

Whenever the promises of God are dismissed or doubted, the result is barrenness. Apart from him we can do nothing.

—

Extracted from Letters from Jesus, a finalist at this year’s International Book Awards.

Why did Jesus send letters from heaven?

by

The letters from Jesus found in Revelation 2 and 3 contain two things everyone of us needs to navigate life’s trials: a picture of Jesus and a promise from Jesus. When you’re going through hard times, you need to see Jesus, who is above your circumstances, and when you’re battling fear and anxiety, you need a promise you can cling to.

Why did Jesus send these letters from heaven?

The immediate reason was the church in Asia was going through tough times. Bad teaching was circulating inside the church and people were being led into harm’s way.

At the same time, the church was being attacked from no less than three external sources: religious Jews, idolatrous pagans, and imperious Romans. The Jews hated the church because it was full of uncircumcised law-breakers who revered a dead Nazarene as the living Son of God. Pagans opposed the church because it took customers away from the lucrative idol trade. And the Romans oppressed the church because they perceived it was a threat to the empire.

Following Jesus in first-century Asia was no walk in the park. You risked losing your job, your home, even your life. Christians were beaten and murdered simply for believing in the name of the Lord.

It must have broken Jesus’ heart to see his church suffer, so he did something he’d never done: He sent letters. From heaven. He responded to the bad news of their circumstances, by proclaiming the good news of his kingdom, and by sending pictures and promises.

The pictures and promises of Jesus stir our faith. They lift us from the depths of despair to the highlands of hope. They remind us that what we see is not all there is, and that no matter how bad things get, Jesus is always with us.

The promises in these letters are extraordinary and they are for all of us. The Lord’s promises, if you receive them with faith, will guide and strengthen you through life’s trials.

Yet the promises in these letters do even more than that. Collectively, they trace the full arc of humanity’s story—a story that begins in the Paradise of Eden (Ephesus) where we fell and reaped the curse of death (Smyrna). The story wanders through the manna-laden wilderness (Pergamum), to the heralded arrival of King with authority over the nations (Thyatira). The story then proceeds to the Day of Judgment and the opening of the Book of Life (Sardis), before leading us to a heavenly city, a heavenly temple (Philadelphia), and the very throne of God (Laodicea).

The letters from Jesus speak to us at multiple levels. They address personal issues and universal ones. They unveil God’s unchanging purposes for humanity, and they reveal your place in his eternal dream.

The seven letters from Jesus are no mere letters. They are the Gospel of Jesus as preached by Jesus. They are an invitation to partake in his divine life.

And they reveal that no matter how history may twist and turn, God’s good purposes will always come to pass.

—

Extracted and adapted from Letters from Jesus, a finalist at this year’s International Book Awards.

Categories

Recent Posts