Are We the Church of Laodicea?

By Heather Scarborough

For many Christians, the book of Revelation is a mystery. Some avoid it because it seems complicated. Others avoid it because it feels frightening. Many simply leave it to pastors, scholars, and prophecy teachers. But why?

Revelation is the only book of the Bible devoted almost entirely to things yet to come. If we prepare for storms, retirement, and emergencies, why would we neglect God’s revelation concerning the return of Christ and the culmination of human history? Could it be that one of the enemy’s greatest tactics is convincing believers not to pay attention? Not because Revelation has nothing to say to us, but because it has everything to say to us.

Before Revelation speaks of beasts, judgments, and kingdoms, it speaks to the Church. And one letter should cause every believer to pause: the letter to Laodicea. When we read Christ’s words to this church, it is easy to think of someone else—a compromised denomination, a lukewarm congregation, or a nominal Christian. But before we point outward, we should look inward. Because the question is not, “Are they Laodicea?” The question is, “Are we?”

Jesus said, “I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot; I wish that you were cold or hot. So because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of My mouth” (Revelation 3:15–16). These are sobering words.

What made Laodicea so dangerous was not open rebellion. It was self-deception. They believed they were doing well. Jesus said otherwise. They believed they were rich. Jesus said they were poor. They believed they could see. Jesus said they were blind. They believed they lacked nothing. Jesus said they were spiritually bankrupt.

The city itself was wealthy, independent, and prosperous. It was known for its banking industry, its fine garments, and its medical eye salve. Yet Jesus used each of those strengths to expose their weakness. They had earthly wealth but lacked heavenly treasure. They produced beautiful garments but remained spiritually naked. They sold eye medicine but could not see their true condition.

What a terrifying possibility—to think we are healthy while we are sick, to think we are seeing clearly while we are blind, to think we are walking with Christ while drifting further from Him. The most dangerous deception is not knowing you are lost. The most dangerous deception is believing you are right when you are wrong.

And if we are honest, does that not describe much of modern Christianity? We have more resources than any generation before us. More churches. More conferences. More books. More podcasts. More Bible translations. More Christian content. Yet do we have more holiness? More repentance? More prayer? More surrender? More obedience? Or have we become comfortable?

Comfort can be dangerous. Prosperity can be dangerous. Self-sufficiency can be dangerous. Laodicea’s greatest problem was not persecution from outside the church. It was pride inside the church. They had learned to rely on themselves instead of Christ.

Yet in the middle of this rebuke, we find one of the most beautiful verses in Scripture: “Those whom I love, I reprove and discipline; therefore be zealous and repent” (Revelation 3:19).

Notice what Jesus does not say. He does not say, “Those whom I hate, I discipline.” He does not say, “Those whom I reject, I reprove.” He says, “Those whom I love.” The rebuke is evidence of His love. The conviction is evidence of His love. The discipline is evidence of His love. A loving Father refuses to leave His children where they are.

When God convicts us of sin, we should not despair. We should rejoice. Not because sin is good. Not because discipline is pleasant. But because conviction means God is still calling us to Himself. Hebrews reminds us that the Lord disciplines those He loves. Discipline is not abandonment. Discipline is adoption. It is proof that we belong to Him.

The real tragedy is not conviction. The real tragedy is becoming so comfortable with sin that conviction no longer moves us.

Jesus gives the remedy in one simple command: Be zealous and repent. Not someday. Not when it is convenient. Not when life settles down. Now.

Repentance is more than feeling bad, more than regret, more than guilt. Repentance is agreeing with God about our condition and turning toward Him in obedience. It means laying down pride, confessing sin, abandoning compromise, returning to God’s Word, returning to prayer, and returning to wholehearted devotion to Christ.

The call to Laodicea is not merely a warning. It is an invitation. Immediately after calling them to repent, Jesus says, “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” (Revelation 3:20).

The Savior they had neglected was still calling. The King they had ignored was still inviting. The Lord they had drifted from was still extending mercy. That is the heart of the gospel. Christ does not expose our condition to shame us. He exposes our condition to save us.

So are we the church of Laodicea? Before answering that question for anyone else, we should answer it for ourselves. Are we relying on Christ or on ourselves? Are we pursuing holiness or comfort? Are we seeking God’s approval or the world’s acceptance? Have we become lukewarm?

If the Holy Spirit is convicting you today, do not run from it. Thank God for it. The Father disciplines those He loves. His correction is mercy. His rebuke is grace. His call is clear:

Be zealous.

Repent.

Get right with God.

While the door is still open.