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Part 3 of 6
Revelation 2:12-17 | Week Three of "SEVEN"
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I want to start with something personal. I'm in a situation in my career where I'm around celebrities, people on TV with lots of followers and money, staying in four-star hotels. I come from very meager beginnings—we were broke. When I moved here in 2015, I didn't have anything but my Kia Forte and some clothes. I stayed in that car for several months because my credit was damaged, but I felt the Lord called me here.
Now I'm experiencing a different level of material comfort. I was recently at a fancy resort called the Phoenician in Phoenix. After business events, while others dressed up to go out and celebrate, I'd go back to my room in flip-flops and basketball shorts. I noticed people around me had dressed up for the occasion—they brought their families, they were excited to show off. But to me, it all felt empty.
I grew up in the 80s. Everyone remembers Mike Tyson—the way he could knock someone out in seconds. But now people look at Mike as a sage; he does podcasts and talks about deep things. Nobody wanted to talk to Mike Tyson back then; you were afraid of him.
Here's what I'm getting at: Is this what we all work for? To get some money, eat nice dinners, go to fancy restaurants, get dressed up, buy a nice watch? As we study Revelation and talk about the culmination of things in this world, we need to ask: What will really matter? What matters now and will continue to matter throughout eternity? There will be a New Jerusalem.
The Apostle John received a revelation from God on the isle of Patmos and wrote seven letters to the churches. We're studying Revelation chapters 2 and 3. Today we're looking at the letter to Pergamum.
"To the angel of the church in Pergamum write: The words of him who has the sharp two-edged sword. I know where you dwell, where Satan's throne is." (Revelation 2:12-13)
Notice the first thing Jesus does: He lets them know that He sees them. He knows where they are. Isn't it good to know that Jesus knows where you are? Most of us question God at some point: "God, do you even know? Do you even care?"
I remember when I worked in Alpharetta and needed the Lord's presence. I would drive two hours from the top of Atlanta metro down to Jonesboro to a small prayer meeting in a house about the size of these four rows. From 5 p.m. to 7 p.m., I'd drive through the heart of the city. We'd cut the lights off, put on music, and we would pray, prophesy, cast out demons, shout, and worship. It kept me focused on the One who called me, not on my circumstances.
It doesn't matter as much what your conditions are as who called you to do it. That's a hard pill to swallow, beloved. You might be going through very hard things. I don't want to minimize your suffering. But in the New Jerusalem, will He not wipe away every tear?
"Yet you hold fast to my name and you did not deny my faith even in the days of Antipas, my faithful witness, who was killed among you, where Satan dwells." (Revelation 2:13)
Pergamum was the greatest city in Asia Minor. It had the first temple dedicated to Caesar. The Roman governor was a violent enemy to Christians. Antipas—likely a pastor or bishop—was killed for his faith.
Here's what's tough: faithful to Jesus and being killed don't usually go together in our minds. I was grieved when our pastor shared about the Voice of the Martyrs. I asked, "Why is my brother going through this?" But Jesus looks at death differently than we do. He treats it more as a comma than a period.
Let me give you a biblical example. Look at Stephen:
"When they heard these things they were enraged and they ground their teeth at him. But he, full of the Holy Spirit, gazed into heaven and saw the glory of God and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. And he said, 'Behold, I see the heavens opened and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God.'" (Acts 7:54-56)
These were grown men who became enraged. They plugged their ears, yelled, and rushed at him because they did not want to hear the truth. That's demonic behavior.
"Then they cast him out of the city and stoned him. And the witnesses laid down their garments at the feet of a young man named Saul. And as they were stoning Stephen, he called out, 'Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.' And falling to his knees he cried with a loud voice, 'Lord, do not hold this sin against them.' And when he had said this, he fell asleep." (Acts 7:58-60)
Stephen knew he was about to die. Yet notice something crucial: Jesus was standing at the right hand of the Father. In other verses, we're told Jesus is seated at the right hand—but here He's standing to witness the persecution of the one about to receive His spirit.
I need to tell you something plain: We cannot have faulty theology that says if I am persecuted, God does not love me, does not care, and is not there. As elders of this church, we're going to encourage you: You cannot lose your faith in Jesus Christ, beloved. I don't care what happens, what you're facing. You must die with your faith in Jesus Christ.
When it says Stephen "fell asleep," death has lost its power. "O Death, where is your sting? O Hades, where is your victory?" You have no hold over me because I am baptized into the One who saved my life.
In church history, when Christians were brought to the coliseum and faced torture, you would hear them singing. How could they do that with joy? Because they really believed that Christ was about to receive their spirit. That's why Christianity spread like wildfire even against opposition. They believed the gospel of Jesus Christ. They served the true living God.
"But I have a few things against you: you have some there who hold the teaching of Balaam, who taught Balak to put a stumbling block before the sons of Israel, so that they might eat food sacrificed to idols and practice sexual immorality. So also you have some who hold the teaching of the Nicolaitans." (Revelation 2:14-15)
Jesus names two doctrines He has a problem with. Together, they essentially taught people: Go and indulge your flesh. The Nicolaitans taught licentiousness—the idea that you should just fulfill your fleshly desires.
But here's what's important: You don't need a PhD in theology to know you shouldn't eat food sacrificed to idols if you believe in Jesus. You pretty much know you should have sex with your spouse or husband, not with others. This isn't advanced doctrine.
But here's the danger: Doctrine leads to belief, and belief leads to action. If I believe in budgeting, I'll have a budget. If I believe I should apologize when I'm wrong, I'll do it. This is why sound doctrine matters. When we mingle good doctrine with faulty doctrine, that's when we go astray.
Imagine someone saying: "Yeah, I'm going to worship Jesus and read my Bible, but let's also go to this other thing. Let's do it all together. Everyone else is doing it. We're hungry anyway—it's food someone paid for." This is how Christianity gets compromised.
Compromise doesn't come like a truck and hit you. It comes gradually. Watch me: if I move just like this, I'm barely moving. Haven't gone three feet. But if I keep moving this way for years, I can end up in a whole other city.
Look at the small decisions: "I don't really want to pray today. That person at Bible study gets on my nerves. I can read the Bible by myself at home. Gas is high. I can watch online instead." Individual things might not be wrong. You can read the Bible by yourself. You don't have to go to every gathering. But if you let your convictions slide gradually, over years, when the church is called to go after the city of Atlanta, we'll be going the opposite way.
The individual compromises aren't necessarily wrong—but when you string them together over time, you end up somewhere you never intended to go.
"Therefore repent. If not, I will come to you soon and war against them with the sword of my mouth." (Revelation 2:16)
Jesus is being very specific. He's coming for them—but He's telling the whole church: Get it together.
Sometimes you need to tell your brother or sister: "Hey, I'm not judging you, but I'm seeing something. You've got a boyfriend. You're staying nights over there. I know you might not be doing something wrong yet, but you're putting yourself in a bad position. I've been there. I know how this goes." The Scripture says: "If anyone sees their brother or sister in sin, restore them with a spirit of meekness, not weakness, in the spirit of humility, lest you fall."
The danger of sin is that it can push you into self-condemnation. You start feeling like God doesn't love you anymore. You come in cold to worship, and it takes you 15 minutes to get going. I'm not condemning you—I'm calling you up to who you really are, as a son or daughter of God.
Sin wars against your soul. We were called to be the bride of Christ, and we're out here with illicit lovers of the world. We come in reeking of compromise, and we shouldn't.
Now, here's what I want to say about repentance: You don't need 60 years of fasting and laying your head in ashes. You might just need to hear what was preached and say, "Oh, I'm tripping. I need to go back."
"Therefore repent." (Revelation 2:16)
That's the order. If you were in orgies and slept with many people, you've got guilt and condemnation—the blood of Jesus washed all of it. Repent. I don't care what man says. According to Jesus Christ, you turn and repent. That's it.
You might say, "This man is judging me for my white lies. I slept with many people. I did drugs. I stole a pen from work." But Jesus paid for all of it on the cross. Repent. Don't spend 60 years in self-condemnation.
We need to talk very plainly about sin because when we don't name it, we enable compromise. All sin is the same before God. You stole that pen from work—that's thievery, that's sin. But here's the key: He died for it. Now stop doing it.
When you sin and condemnation hits, do this: Say, "Did He die for it on the cross? Yes. Okay, I need to cut that out." "Lord, I did it again. Did He die for it? Yes. Help me, Holy Spirit. Help me, brothers and sisters. Pray for me. I don't want to disappoint the One who loves me."
That will save you 60 years in the valley of self-condemnation. But that's not God's plan for you. Therefore repent. Get back to work. There's a city to save.
Jesus is trying to wrap things up. We've got to get people on the ark. He's chosen the foolishness of the preaching of the gospel to do it. The angels don't preach the gospel—we do. We have six million wounded warriors who should be on the battlefield. Don't stay in the hospital of self-condemnation for 60 years.
I'm not preaching a light gospel. Sin is bad. But I'm preaching the gospel, and the purpose of the church is to fulfill the Great Commission. If you think the purpose of church is just to come sit down, you'll sit there for 60 years. The purpose is to go and preach the gospel to all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
That's why baptism is so important to us. We get excited about it because we're doing exactly what we've been called to do.
Listen: when God comes for you, who are you going to call? Do you want Jesus's angry side? No. Read this: "For we know Him who said, 'Vengeance is mine, I will repay.' It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God." (Hebrews 10:30-31)
The gracious, loving, forgiving Jesus—you want that Jesus. But don't push Him to His angry side. I don't know exactly what that judgment looks like, but I'm not trying to find out. So as your elder, I'm asking you: what do you need to do?
"He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To the one who conquers I will give some of the hidden manna, and I will give him a white stone with a new name written on the stone that no one knows except the one who receives it." (Revelation 2:17)
There is a reward, but it doesn't mean anything if you're not in the trenches fighting your flesh every day.
It can start to feel lonely when you're the only one who isn't fornicating. It feels lonely when you're the only one not giving in to sin. Seasons of temptation are ever before you. You could get away with it. You could cuss; that's not what you're supposed to do. You're supposed to bless them. You could cut corners, but that's not what you're called to do.
Everybody else is doing it, but you just can't. Not because you're perfect, but because it's not what He called you to do. The danger is that if you keep doing it, you start to identify with it. Instead of telling a lie, you view yourself as "a liar." Sin pushes you away from God.
That's why in the gospel we tell you to stop compromising. "The grace of God teaches us to deny all ungodliness." That faulty doctrine they were teaching—"You can be saved and do whatever you want; a little sin won't hurt"—that's bad doctrine.
Doctrine leads to belief, and belief leads to action. So Jesus has a problem with it. He had a problem with it then. We should have a problem with it now.
Examine yourself as a church. Examine yourself as an individual. Whatever you've done against Him, He died for it on the cross. He paid for it. Your job is just to repent.
Thank you for being gracious and good to us when You could have just consumed us, God. But You chose not to because You love us and called us to Yourself. You already sent Jesus to die for our sins. Help us to act like the bride we're supposed to be. Help us fight compromising and sliding ever so slightly. Help us fight self-condemnation that keeps us from repenting.
God, break the relationships that make compromising easy. Break the identities they've been calling themselves that have become affiliated with sin. Bring back Your child, Your daughter, the backslider—even today, by Your mighty Spirit. Help them become reacquainted with Your love, Your acceptance, Your forgiveness that You've already demonstrated on the cross. In the name of Jesus, amen.
