What we learn from the scary Jesus of Revelation

A while back, I wrote a post asking the question of whether we should be scared of Jesus. Many of you (along with ChatGPT) thought the answer was no.

And I get it.  

After all, in the only passage of Scripture where Jesus describes Himself, He says: “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matt. 11:28–30, my emphasis).

Throughout the Gospels, Jesus is seen as a figure of love, compassion, mercy, and forgiveness. He offers peace, healing, and hope, especially to those who are lost, with the message coming back to grace and His mission not to condemn, but to save. And all of that is true.

But then we keep reading.

When we arrive at Revelation chapters 2 and 3, we encounter a picture of Jesus that should cause us to stop, sit up straight, listen, and take His words with the utmost seriousness. Here we find Christ addressing seven churches — churches that call Him Lord — and His words include both praise and severe admonition. He knows their works, their failures, their compromises, their endurance, and even what they cannot see about themselves.

His warnings contain real consequences for disobedience.

And if we are someone “who has an ear” that “lets him hear what the Spirit says to the churches” (Rev. 2:7), His words should not merely inform us; they should examine us.

The omniscient second person of the Trinity tells His audience He sees everything, indicated by the repeated phrase “I know” to each church. That applies to you and me today as well.

That being true, it would be good to understand what Christ finds pleasing in those churches and also what He finds sinful. Let’s take a deep breath, dive in, and take what He says to us in the most serious possible sense.

Right doctrine, wrong priorities

Augustine argued that humankind’s biggest problem is what he called “disordered loves.” He said that sometimes it’s not so much that we don’t do the right things or love the wrong things, but we have our loves in the wrong sequence.

That’s the church at Ephesus.

You and I should emulate that church when it comes to the things for which Jesus praises them: their Christian service, perseverance, adherence to right teaching, discernment of false doctrines, and a refusal to wink at or participate in sinful practices.

But then comes what we should avoid — not keeping Christ as primary: “I have this against you, that you have left your first love” (Rev. 2:4). Other priorities were crowding out their main life mission, with the result being Jesus warning them that their light was moving towards being put out.

That’s not something we should let happen to our witness.

Suffering doesn’t equate to God’s disfavor

Have you ever struggled with why trials and pain seem to constantly dog your every step and thought it must be because God is angry with you or has lost your name in His contact list?   

The lesson we take away from the church at Smyrna is that just ain’t so.

The church gets no criticism from Jesus, who instead acknowledges their suffering and praises them for their patient endurance under trials. His words move past the Smyrna church to us who are hurting today and comforts us with the truth that, once the trials end, “I will give you the crown of life” (Rev. 2:10).

Remember: pain doesn’t mean a failed walk before the Lord. The life of Charles Spurgeon, for example, was marked by many trials, physical ailments, a loved wife who became a semi-invalid, countless adversaries, and yet he is regarded as the number one contemporary evangelist who has ever lived.  

Doctrinal compromise is deadly

Did you know that all roads really do lead to God? That’s because, no matter what you believe, one day you’ll come face to face with Him.

But then what?

There’s a reason 26 out of the 27 books in the New Testament contain warnings against false teaching: eternity is an awfully wrong time to be wrong. That’s why Jesus reproves the Pergamum and Thyatira churches for their tolerance of spiritual error, which is something you and I need to avoid at all costs.

Although the church at Pergamum held up under persecution, and the Thyatira church was involved in more spiritual work than they ever had been, they had let their guard down when it came to acceptance of spiritual error and cultural sin.

I’m sure you can name plenty of denominations or churches welcoming anti-biblical teachings and lifestyles, but let me ask: have you taken a recent personal inventory to see if you are doing any of that yourself?

“Unsalty” salt is good for nothing

I’ve always had a shiver run down my spine when I read the last part of this statement made by Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount: “You are the salt of the earth; but if the salt has become tasteless, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot by men” (Matt. 5:13).

That’s the warning given to the church at Sardis. Yep, you wear the Christian label, but you’re “dead” (Rev. 3:1) when it comes to making a positive impact on Christ’s Kingdom because there’s no spiritual salt in your life.  

Do you look and act like the world? If so, you’ve lost your saltiness and are dead in your service to God. “Wake up, and strengthen the things that remain” (Rev. 3:2).

A little faith is OK

A verse in MercyMe’s song Even If goes: “They say it only takes a little faith to move a mountain. Well, good thing. A little faith is all I have right now”.

If you’ve ever felt bad for having only “a little faith,” don’t. Jesus praises the church at Philadelphia even though He acknowledges they only “have a little power” (Rev. 3:8).

With just a little faith, we can be like the Philadelphia church, a people who keep His Word and don’t deny His name (Rev. 3:8, 10).

The life of the rich fool

“Not even when one has an abundance does his life consist of his possessions” is the key lesson from Jesus' parable of the rich fool (Luke 12:16–20). It’s also what Jesus is telling us when He addresses the church at Laodicea.

Perhaps the greatest danger to you and me isn't persecution, poverty, or weakness. Maybe it’s a self-satisfied Christianity. Warm, cozy, and complacent.

That can blind us to how spiritually impoverished we really are: a state that nauseates Jesus so much that He says, “I will spit you out of My mouth” (Rev. 3:16). It terrifies me that I could be so self-deceived, as the people at Laodicea were, that Jesus thinks such a thing about me.  

Are we listening?  

The seven letters of Revelation 2 and 3 aren’t just messages to seven ancient churches; they’re instruction for you and me right now.

They’re saying don’t reduce Jesus to a gentle teacher who simply wants us to feel better about ourselves. And don’t think He’s thundering only at those seven churches for where they fell short but would never do the same to us.

“He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says…” (Rev. 3:13) to you and me.