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Connected by scripture or shared themes.
We are in the second week of a seven-week journey through the first two chapters of the book of Revelation—a series called "Seven." This document is apocalyptic, revealing the end of all things and the age as we know it. It is prophetic, recording events that will come upon the earth. Jesus gave this revelation to John while he was imprisoned on the island of Patmos, and told him to write letters to seven churches in Asia Minor.
These are not just historical letters. They are words from the glorified Christ to His church—to you and to me. As we navigate this sacred document, we must be sensitive to the Spirit of God speaking to His church today.
After the resurrection and ascension of Jesus, His followers were commissioned to carry the gospel to the ends of the earth. All but one of them were martyred for their faith. That one was John, who was boiled in oil and survived. For his testimony to Jesus, he was banished to Patmos, a Roman penal colony about fifty miles off the coast of Ephesus (modern-day Turkey), where he was forced into hard labor.
It was on that island that the Lord Jesus appeared to John in a vision and told him to write down everything He was about to reveal. Jesus gave John seven letters to seven ancient churches and commanded him to send copies of the entire book of Revelation to these churches. A postal route connected these cities, ensuring the message would spread throughout Asia Minor to all believers.
The first letter went to the church in Ephesus, a megachurch renowned for its prestige, financial wealth, and faithfulness to doctrine. But Jesus had a rebuke for them: they had abandoned the love they had at first. He warned them that without love, everything else—all their works, their doctrine, their service—is worthless.
If we do ministry without love, or live without love, or maintain relationships without love, or even rebuke without love, then everything we do is a waste of time. First Corinthians 13 tells us that we are just noise in the presence of Jesus and others if it is not motivated by love. If we lose that, we have lost the secret sauce of Christianity.
Now we come to Smyrna, a coastal city about twenty-five miles north of Ephesus. It was called "the crown of Asia" for its magnificent buildings and stunning architecture. The city was built between a harbor and Mount Pegus, featuring a famous stadium, a library, and the largest public theater in Asia. A famous thoroughfare called the Street of Gold curved around the mountain like a necklace, and two temples—one to a false goddess and one to Zeus—stood on the mountainside.
Smyrna boasted a population of around 200,000 people and was famous for science, medicine, and majestic structures. It was the birthplace of the Greek poet Homer. But Smyrna is perhaps most famous for the mass production of myrrh—an expensive fragrance produced by wounding trees to extract their oils. This detail will prove significant.
The city also sustained a special relationship with Rome and the imperial cult. In 195 BC, Smyrna became the very first city in history to build a temple in honor of Rome's false goddess, Dea Roma. Everyone who lived in Smyrna was required to hail Caesar as the son of God, Lord of Lords, and King of Kings. It was illegal not to say that Caesar was Lord.
Additionally, Smyrna had a large Jewish population that was actively hostile toward the emerging Christian community. This combination—strong allegiance to Rome, the imperial cult, and a hostile Jewish population—made Smyrna an extremely difficult place to be a Christian.
Smyrna is the only city of the seven churches mentioned in these letters that still exists today. Modern Smyrna is the city of Izmir in Turkey, and there are still pockets of Christians living there. When Jesus said to Ephesus, "If you do not repent, I will remove your lampstand," Ephesus no longer has a Christian presence. But Smyrna has endured for nearly 2,000 years. There must be something special about this church.
Before we examine this letter, I want to share stories from persecuted Christians today. In Pakistan, an Islamic republic with over 240 million people, there are about four million Christians—less than two percent of the population. Under Pakistan's strict Islamic law, most Christians are trapped in cycles of limited opportunity, remaining impoverished and at the bottom of society.
I read a publication called Voice of the Martyrs, a global missionary organization dedicated to serving the persecuted church. Let me share some stories:
Jamilah's Story: A woman in her twenties had to flee from her husband after he threatened to kill her and her children because she had recently placed her faith in Jesus. She lost her husband, her home, and now lives in a safe house in poverty with her two children, trying to rebuild her life in a nation with almost no opportunities for Christian women.
Hamza's Story: Born into indentured servitude in a Pakistani brick-making field, Hamza spent decades enslaved to the brick company due to debt. After being reported for taking a Muslim friend to church, his employer began violently persecuting him daily. Recently, he managed to buy his freedom after nearly four decades of slavery, so he and his family could finally be free.
Samina's Story: Locked in a room at a factory by a supervisor who overheard her praying on her lunch break, Samina was trapped for an unknown number of days. She was the only provider for her children. After escaping, she was forced to find work at a sewing factory for women with no other opportunities, where she sews garments to make a living.
These are real human beings who would give anything to be in your seat. They would kill to walk into a gathering safely, to serve on a team, to worship without fear of persecution.
Contrast this with the American Christian experience. We have freedom, resources, and comfort, yet we remain ungrateful. We complain about flat tires and social media likes. We demand that God be a genie who fulfills our wish lists. We have so perverted the gospel that we cannot even share it with persecuted believers in Pakistan, China, or Turkey.
We preach a prosperity gospel: sow your seed and receive this cloth; rub this miracle oil and have a pain-free life. We preach that God wants everybody healthy, wealthy, and free from problems. But what gospel will we carry to a Christian in Pakistan who is dying in slavery? What gospel will we preach to Hamza, who has spent four decades making bricks?
The gospel is not contained by geography. It is not handcuffed by borders. Where the gospel is real, it can be preached and lived in America and in Pakistan. But we have so prostituted the gospel in this nation that it is unrecognizable to the persecuted church.
"And to the angel of the church in Smyrna write: 'The words of the first and the last, who died and came to life. I know your tribulation and your poverty (but you are rich), and the slander of those who say that they are Jews and are not, but are a synagogue of Satan.'"
Jesus introduces Himself to this suffering church with a specific title: "I am the first and the last, who died and came to life."
Why would Jesus remind a small, persecuted church—suffering in a massive hostile city with no reprieve—that He died and came back to life?
Jesus was saying to them: My sons and daughters, I died. I suffered the worst persecution you will ever suffer. I was flogged, beaten, betrayed, spit upon, nailed to the cross like a criminal. I was stabbed in my side. I carried the sins of all humanity—a weight no person can carry because our blood is infected by sin.
But I came back to life.
I know what it is to stare down the gates of hell and come back to life. I know what it is to be inflicted and still conquer. I know what it is to suffer hell and not give up. I know what it is to have my back against the wall and not walk away from my calling, my path, my purpose, or my Lord.
My suffering took me all the way to death. But that was not the end for me. There was a victory that they could not take. They scarred my body but could not take my life.
You serve the Lord who has gone through and who has conquered.
This matters because the same Christ who conquered death lives in you. Greater is He who lives in you than your adversary who is loose in the world.
I am talking to your problem—greater is He. I am talking to your trial—greater is He. I am talking to your diagnosis—greater is He. I am talking to your hardship—greater is He. I am talking to all the pressures you have right now—greater is He who lives within you than the one loose in the world.
At some point, those tears of sorrow must turn to tears of faith. Sometimes you just have to get sick and tired of self-pity and say: "You know what? Greater is He who lives in me than in the world. I'm going to dust myself off, stand up, and press through this opposition."
This is the kind of faith that says: God can, God will—but even if He does not, I still won't bow.
I'm not looking for the prosperity preaching. I'm looking for a gospel that will help me survive through my hell. Send me into the furnace—I'll be in there with the fourth man. Throw me in the lion's den—He'll shut their mouths. Leave me on the open ocean—I'll end up on an island and preach a revival. Handcuff me to a Roman guard 24 hours a day—I'll share the gospel every six hours when the guards rotate. These chains are not going to stop me from my calling and testimony.
"I know your tribulation and your poverty (but you are rich)."
This is different from what Jesus said to the church of Ephesus. To them, He said: "You are rich, but you don't realize you're poor, blind, wretched, and naked."
But to Smyrna, He says: "I know your tribulation. I know your poverty. But you are rich."
Jesus is acknowledging their external tribulation. You live in a city that is hostile to your faith. Many of you are being persecuted unto death. You live in constant fear for your lives. You see no reprieve for your suffering. I see all of this. I see what you're going through. I see the prayers I have not answered yet. I see the doors I have not opened. I see the thing you've been believing for for ten years that still has not happened.
Because of their tribulation in Smyrna, they were marginalized. They could not get good jobs or start good businesses. This rendered them impoverished—not struggling, but without nothing. No roof. No transportation. No money. Scrapping for clothes. Rationing food between family members.
Yet Jesus says: You don't even know that you're rich.
You are so jealous of the wicked and their wealth that you don't even know what you're rich in. They may be rich where you are poor, but you are rich where they are poor. The question is: which is more valuable—that dollar or your faith?
This is not anti-money preaching. I am not against getting resources. What I am saying is that there is something truly rich in the eyes of Jesus. Real wealth in Jesus's eyes is: How strong is your faith? Do you really belong to me? The devil needs what you have more than you think you want what he has.
Consider this: Kate Spade was a millionaire. She took her own life. The towel from her collection sits in a store. Her soul is not here. So where is the real wealth? If you have money but not Christ, are you really wealthy?
The wealth was the faith they had in Christ.
Which city is really wealthy—Ephesus or Smyrna? The lampstand in Ephesus is gone. The Christian community in Smyrna still exists today. What got them through—the dollars or their faith?
I would rather be poor with faith in Christ than be wealthy and bankrupt in my soul. I pray for my wealthy friends—not that they get rid of their wealth, but that they get Jesus in their wealth. If you had to choose between the bag without faith or faith without the bag, choose faith.
"And the slander of those who say that they are Jews and are not, but are a synagogue of Satan."
Now Jesus moves from external pressure to internal persecution. Not only do they deal with trouble from outside, but they deal with trouble from inside—from those who claim to be family, from those who claim the name of God.
The Jews in that city were informants—like undercover agents going to Roman authorities and saying, "There's a gathering over there tonight." They were selling out these brothers and sisters to be persecuted to death.
Jesus says that this slander is satanic behavior.
When you trash brothers and sisters behind their back and tear them down, that is satanic behavior. Jesus knows the whispers in the dark. He is saying: You know what that is? That is satanic. Your slander makes you a pawn of the devil.
Peter almost became a pawn of the devil when he tried to stop Jesus from going to the cross. Jesus looked at him and said, "Get behind me, Satan." Why? Because when you're not led by the Spirit, you can be led by that other spirit—your own flesh.
Your own wife could become a pawn of the devil. Your child. Your friend. The person on your road. This is why we must watch how we live and our doctrine so that we do not render ourselves as pawns of the devil to inflict unnecessary harm on brothers and sisters.
"Do not fear what you are about to suffer. Behold, the devil is about to throw some of you into prison, that you may be tested, and for ten days you will have tribulation. Be faithful unto death, and I will give you the crown of life. He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. The one who conquers will not be hurt by the second death.'"
Listen to Jesus's encouragement to this persecuted church:
This is His encouragement. Not promises of comfort or escape, but a call to faithfulness even unto death.
This does not work in America. We cannot preach this at conferences. We cannot dangle carrots of blessing to make people escape their problems. But this is what Jesus was saying to this suffering church.
Here is His reward for faithfulness: "I will give you the crown of life."
Jesus is taking the crown of buildings they see—the beautiful circle of buildings around the mountain—and saying: That crown is nothing compared to the crown of life I am going to give you.
His encouragement is hope that is eternal. If the only hope you have is in this life, your hope is too weak. If your dreams terminate in material things in this life, your dreams are too small.
"The one who conquers will not be hurt by the second death."
What is the second death? Jesus sent these letters to seven churches, but He sent the entire book of Revelation to all of them. In Revelation 20, John describes the final judgment:
"Then I saw a great white throne and him who was seated on it... And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne, and books were opened. Then another book was opened, which is the book of life. And the dead were judged by what was written in the books, according to what they had done."
The first death is when we leave this body and are buried. The second death is the permanent resting place of all who rejected Jesus: the lake of fire.
"And if anyone's name was not found written in the book of life, he was thrown into the lake of fire."
There is purpose in how we spend our time here. Everything you're doing is being recorded. Your suffering didn't catch Jesus by surprise. There is purpose and pain. There is strength and suffering. It is through suffering that we draw closer to God.
History tells us that the pastor of the church at Smyrna when this letter arrived was likely in his twenties or thirties. His name was Polycarp—a friend or disciple of John, who wrote Revelation. Polycarp became the bishop of this church in Smyrna.
In his old age—in his seventies or eighties—false Jews alerted authorities to his location. They bound him and brought him into the arena before thousands of people. The emperor gave him an ultimatum:
"Polycarp, denounce Jesus or we will burn you alive."
He refused. They gave him a second opportunity:
"If you do not denounce Jesus, we will set you on fire."
According to history, Polycarp responded to them in the theater: "These fires you are about to set will last for a little while and then go out. But the fire that you will endure is eternal. I will not call Caesar lord, for there is only one Lord, and His name is Jesus."
They bound Polycarp, put his body on a platform, and set him on fire. He died—the pastor of this church—for refusing to denounce Jesus.
What would you have done? Could you have survived that moment? Is your faith strong enough?
Now the mystery of Smyrna—myrrh—becomes clear.
Myrrh was produced by wounding trees to extract the oils. Trees had to be wounded, crushed, and bruised to produce this sweet fragrance. In the same way, the wounding you are going through, the hell you are going through, is God crushing you to produce a sweet fragrance in the earth—a testimony of faithfulness.
Some of you don't even realize that all the wounding you're experiencing is God crushing you to produce a fragrance of faithfulness. Through that crushing, through that wounding, through those constant beatings, He is perfecting your character. He is building your faith. Others are watching how you stay firm even in the middle of trial and persecution.
God did not choose to perfect us by giving us everything we want. He chose to perfect His bride through hardships and trials.
You have to keep coming out of storms. You go into them, go through them, and come out on the other side stronger and wiser with greater character and a stronger testimony for Jesus Christ.
I have taught our church for years: You cannot only live well; you must suffer well.
It is not enough to just know what to do from Monday through Saturday. You also need to know how to suffer well—how to go through stuff and not crumble. How to pray. How to trust God. How to be patient. How to give Him time as He works through what you're going through. How not to feel like God has abandoned you because He did not say yes to your last prayer.
Before my father died of cancer in my arms and received his crown, the Lord did not deliver him from that cancer. He died on a Saturday, and I had to preach on a Sunday. How's that for encouragement? This is real gospel ministry.
I say to myself all the time—and I mean this before God—when I am going through hell, I tell myself: Philip, the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared to the glory that shall be revealed when the Lord Jesus Christ comes to get me.
If you don't talk like that, you won't last. You have to be able to look hell in the face and say: This is nothing. You have to look at the diagnosis and say: This is nothing. You have to look at betrayal and say: This is nothing. You have to wipe your tears and be broken at night, on the floor breathing in pain, asking how this could be happening—and then wipe your eyes and say: For the sufferings of this present time are nothing compared to the glory that shall be revealed.
When I talk to myself like that, I find an internal power in Christ that makes me wipe my eyes, stand to my feet, and walk into that fire again. Not run away from it—engage it.
Some would have heard the preaching and believed that I am real. They would have believed that I am a real man of God. And I say to my Father: Look at all of these who heard the preaching of the gospel. We have been in different buildings. We have been kicked out of schools. But the gospel kept going forward. They all have washed their robes in the blood of the Lamb.
Now we're up here at the table. I need this for myself right now because I'm going through some hell. Jesus did not say yes to my last prayer. But I know that there is purpose in pain, and there is strength in suffering.
This Christian life is a scandal of triumphs and trials. It is the dance of victories and sorrows. In the end, we will stand back and look at the tapestry and say: "Oh Jesus, You were working in all of it all the time."
Nothing in your life catches God by surprise. He is sovereign. He is reigning over it all. Greater is He who is in you than he who is in the world. You must have a hope that goes beyond this life.
Wake up from false doctrine and false believing. Lean into suffering. Lean into trial. Lean into hardship. Keep coming out on the other side stronger, wiser, with greater character and a stronger testimony for the Lord Jesus Christ.
Eternal God and Father, we sense and feel Your presence. As we have broken the seals on this sacred document, let the weight of Your word rest on our hearts. Let it push us away from the fringes of our love affair with the world, and let it draw us in closer to You.
I pray for those in this room right now who are hurting, weary, tired, frustrated, betrayed, confused, bewildered. I pray for all those shedding tears. Wrap them in Your arms. Comfort them. Remind them that they are not alone—that whether on mountaintops or in valleys, we do not walk alone.
Thank You that You are the One who died and came back to life again. And so we too shall prevail. We pray this in the mighty, majestic, and matchless name of the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
We are in the second week of a seven-week journey through the first two chapters of the book of Revelation—a series called "Seven." This document is apocalyptic, revealing the end of all things and the age as we know it. It is prophetic, recording events that will come upon the earth. Jesus gave this revelation to John while he was imprisoned on the island of Patmos, and told him to write letters to seven churches in Asia Minor.
These are not just historical letters. They are words from the glorified Christ to His church—to you and to me. As we navigate this sacred document, we must be sensitive to the Spirit of God speaking to His church today.
After the resurrection and ascension of Jesus, His followers were commissioned to carry the gospel to the ends of the earth. All but one of them were martyred for their faith. That one was John, who was boiled in oil and survived. For his testimony to Jesus, he was banished to Patmos, a Roman penal colony about fifty miles off the coast of Ephesus (modern-day Turkey), where he was forced into hard labor.
It was on that island that the Lord Jesus appeared to John in a vision and told him to write down everything He was about to reveal. Jesus gave John seven letters to seven ancient churches and commanded him to send copies of the entire book of Revelation to these churches. A postal route connected these cities, ensuring the message would spread throughout Asia Minor to all believers.
The first letter went to the church in Ephesus, a megachurch renowned for its prestige, financial wealth, and faithfulness to doctrine. But Jesus had a rebuke for them: they had abandoned the love they had at first. He warned them that without love, everything else—all their works, their doctrine, their service—is worthless.
If we do ministry without love, or live without love, or maintain relationships without love, or even rebuke without love, then everything we do is a waste of time. First Corinthians 13 tells us that we are just noise in the presence of Jesus and others if it is not motivated by love. If we lose that, we have lost the secret sauce of Christianity.
Now we come to Smyrna, a coastal city about twenty-five miles north of Ephesus. It was called "the crown of Asia" for its magnificent buildings and stunning architecture. The city was built between a harbor and Mount Pegus, featuring a famous stadium, a library, and the largest public theater in Asia. A famous thoroughfare called the Street of Gold curved around the mountain like a necklace, and two temples—one to a false goddess and one to Zeus—stood on the mountainside.
Smyrna boasted a population of around 200,000 people and was famous for science, medicine, and majestic structures. It was the birthplace of the Greek poet Homer. But Smyrna is perhaps most famous for the mass production of myrrh—an expensive fragrance produced by wounding trees to extract their oils. This detail will prove significant.
The city also sustained a special relationship with Rome and the imperial cult. In 195 BC, Smyrna became the very first city in history to build a temple in honor of Rome's false goddess, Dea Roma. Everyone who lived in Smyrna was required to hail Caesar as the son of God, Lord of Lords, and King of Kings. It was illegal not to say that Caesar was Lord.
Additionally, Smyrna had a large Jewish population that was actively hostile toward the emerging Christian community. This combination—strong allegiance to Rome, the imperial cult, and a hostile Jewish population—made Smyrna an extremely difficult place to be a Christian.
Smyrna is the only city of the seven churches mentioned in these letters that still exists today. Modern Smyrna is the city of Izmir in Turkey, and there are still pockets of Christians living there. When Jesus said to Ephesus, "If you do not repent, I will remove your lampstand," Ephesus no longer has a Christian presence. But Smyrna has endured for nearly 2,000 years. There must be something special about this church.
Before we examine this letter, I want to share stories from persecuted Christians today. In Pakistan, an Islamic republic with over 240 million people, there are about four million Christians—less than two percent of the population. Under Pakistan's strict Islamic law, most Christians are trapped in cycles of limited opportunity, remaining impoverished and at the bottom of society.
I read a publication called Voice of the Martyrs, a global missionary organization dedicated to serving the persecuted church. Let me share some stories:
Jamilah's Story: A woman in her twenties had to flee from her husband after he threatened to kill her and her children because she had recently placed her faith in Jesus. She lost her husband, her home, and now lives in a safe house in poverty with her two children, trying to rebuild her life in a nation with almost no opportunities for Christian women.
Hamza's Story: Born into indentured servitude in a Pakistani brick-making field, Hamza spent decades enslaved to the brick company due to debt. After being reported for taking a Muslim friend to church, his employer began violently persecuting him daily. Recently, he managed to buy his freedom after nearly four decades of slavery, so he and his family could finally be free.
Samina's Story: Locked in a room at a factory by a supervisor who overheard her praying on her lunch break, Samina was trapped for an unknown number of days. She was the only provider for her children. After escaping, she was forced to find work at a sewing factory for women with no other opportunities, where she sews garments to make a living.
These are real human beings who would give anything to be in your seat. They would kill to walk into a gathering safely, to serve on a team, to worship without fear of persecution.
Contrast this with the American Christian experience. We have freedom, resources, and comfort, yet we remain ungrateful. We complain about flat tires and social media likes. We demand that God be a genie who fulfills our wish lists. We have so perverted the gospel that we cannot even share it with persecuted believers in Pakistan, China, or Turkey.
We preach a prosperity gospel: sow your seed and receive this cloth; rub this miracle oil and have a pain-free life. We preach that God wants everybody healthy, wealthy, and free from problems. But what gospel will we carry to a Christian in Pakistan who is dying in slavery? What gospel will we preach to Hamza, who has spent four decades making bricks?
The gospel is not contained by geography. It is not handcuffed by borders. Where the gospel is real, it can be preached and lived in America and in Pakistan. But we have so prostituted the gospel in this nation that it is unrecognizable to the persecuted church.
"And to the angel of the church in Smyrna write: 'The words of the first and the last, who died and came to life. I know your tribulation and your poverty (but you are rich), and the slander of those who say that they are Jews and are not, but are a synagogue of Satan.'"
Jesus introduces Himself to this suffering church with a specific title: "I am the first and the last, who died and came to life."
Why would Jesus remind a small, persecuted church—suffering in a massive hostile city with no reprieve—that He died and came back to life?
Jesus was saying to them: My sons and daughters, I died. I suffered the worst persecution you will ever suffer. I was flogged, beaten, betrayed, spit upon, nailed to the cross like a criminal. I was stabbed in my side. I carried the sins of all humanity—a weight no person can carry because our blood is infected by sin.
But I came back to life.
I know what it is to stare down the gates of hell and come back to life. I know what it is to be inflicted and still conquer. I know what it is to suffer hell and not give up. I know what it is to have my back against the wall and not walk away from my calling, my path, my purpose, or my Lord.
My suffering took me all the way to death. But that was not the end for me. There was a victory that they could not take. They scarred my body but could not take my life.
You serve the Lord who has gone through and who has conquered.
This matters because the same Christ who conquered death lives in you. Greater is He who lives in you than your adversary who is loose in the world.
I am talking to your problem—greater is He. I am talking to your trial—greater is He. I am talking to your diagnosis—greater is He. I am talking to your hardship—greater is He. I am talking to all the pressures you have right now—greater is He who lives within you than the one loose in the world.
At some point, those tears of sorrow must turn to tears of faith. Sometimes you just have to get sick and tired of self-pity and say: "You know what? Greater is He who lives in me than in the world. I'm going to dust myself off, stand up, and press through this opposition."
This is the kind of faith that says: God can, God will—but even if He does not, I still won't bow.
I'm not looking for the prosperity preaching. I'm looking for a gospel that will help me survive through my hell. Send me into the furnace—I'll be in there with the fourth man. Throw me in the lion's den—He'll shut their mouths. Leave me on the open ocean—I'll end up on an island and preach a revival. Handcuff me to a Roman guard 24 hours a day—I'll share the gospel every six hours when the guards rotate. These chains are not going to stop me from my calling and testimony.
"I know your tribulation and your poverty (but you are rich)."
This is different from what Jesus said to the church of Ephesus. To them, He said: "You are rich, but you don't realize you're poor, blind, wretched, and naked."
But to Smyrna, He says: "I know your tribulation. I know your poverty. But you are rich."
Jesus is acknowledging their external tribulation. You live in a city that is hostile to your faith. Many of you are being persecuted unto death. You live in constant fear for your lives. You see no reprieve for your suffering. I see all of this. I see what you're going through. I see the prayers I have not answered yet. I see the doors I have not opened. I see the thing you've been believing for for ten years that still has not happened.
Because of their tribulation in Smyrna, they were marginalized. They could not get good jobs or start good businesses. This rendered them impoverished—not struggling, but without nothing. No roof. No transportation. No money. Scrapping for clothes. Rationing food between family members.
Yet Jesus says: You don't even know that you're rich.
You are so jealous of the wicked and their wealth that you don't even know what you're rich in. They may be rich where you are poor, but you are rich where they are poor. The question is: which is more valuable—that dollar or your faith?
This is not anti-money preaching. I am not against getting resources. What I am saying is that there is something truly rich in the eyes of Jesus. Real wealth in Jesus's eyes is: How strong is your faith? Do you really belong to me? The devil needs what you have more than you think you want what he has.
Consider this: Kate Spade was a millionaire. She took her own life. The towel from her collection sits in a store. Her soul is not here. So where is the real wealth? If you have money but not Christ, are you really wealthy?
The wealth was the faith they had in Christ.
Which city is really wealthy—Ephesus or Smyrna? The lampstand in Ephesus is gone. The Christian community in Smyrna still exists today. What got them through—the dollars or their faith?
I would rather be poor with faith in Christ than be wealthy and bankrupt in my soul. I pray for my wealthy friends—not that they get rid of their wealth, but that they get Jesus in their wealth. If you had to choose between the bag without faith or faith without the bag, choose faith.
"And the slander of those who say that they are Jews and are not, but are a synagogue of Satan."
Now Jesus moves from external pressure to internal persecution. Not only do they deal with trouble from outside, but they deal with trouble from inside—from those who claim to be family, from those who claim the name of God.
The Jews in that city were informants—like undercover agents going to Roman authorities and saying, "There's a gathering over there tonight." They were selling out these brothers and sisters to be persecuted to death.
Jesus says that this slander is satanic behavior.
When you trash brothers and sisters behind their back and tear them down, that is satanic behavior. Jesus knows the whispers in the dark. He is saying: You know what that is? That is satanic. Your slander makes you a pawn of the devil.
Peter almost became a pawn of the devil when he tried to stop Jesus from going to the cross. Jesus looked at him and said, "Get behind me, Satan." Why? Because when you're not led by the Spirit, you can be led by that other spirit—your own flesh.
Your own wife could become a pawn of the devil. Your child. Your friend. The person on your road. This is why we must watch how we live and our doctrine so that we do not render ourselves as pawns of the devil to inflict unnecessary harm on brothers and sisters.
"Do not fear what you are about to suffer. Behold, the devil is about to throw some of you into prison, that you may be tested, and for ten days you will have tribulation. Be faithful unto death, and I will give you the crown of life. He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. The one who conquers will not be hurt by the second death.'"
Listen to Jesus's encouragement to this persecuted church:
This is His encouragement. Not promises of comfort or escape, but a call to faithfulness even unto death.
This does not work in America. We cannot preach this at conferences. We cannot dangle carrots of blessing to make people escape their problems. But this is what Jesus was saying to this suffering church.
Here is His reward for faithfulness: "I will give you the crown of life."
Jesus is taking the crown of buildings they see—the beautiful circle of buildings around the mountain—and saying: That crown is nothing compared to the crown of life I am going to give you.
His encouragement is hope that is eternal. If the only hope you have is in this life, your hope is too weak. If your dreams terminate in material things in this life, your dreams are too small.
"The one who conquers will not be hurt by the second death."
What is the second death? Jesus sent these letters to seven churches, but He sent the entire book of Revelation to all of them. In Revelation 20, John describes the final judgment:
"Then I saw a great white throne and him who was seated on it... And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne, and books were opened. Then another book was opened, which is the book of life. And the dead were judged by what was written in the books, according to what they had done."
The first death is when we leave this body and are buried. The second death is the permanent resting place of all who rejected Jesus: the lake of fire.
"And if anyone's name was not found written in the book of life, he was thrown into the lake of fire."
There is purpose in how we spend our time here. Everything you're doing is being recorded. Your suffering didn't catch Jesus by surprise. There is purpose and pain. There is strength and suffering. It is through suffering that we draw closer to God.
History tells us that the pastor of the church at Smyrna when this letter arrived was likely in his twenties or thirties. His name was Polycarp—a friend or disciple of John, who wrote Revelation. Polycarp became the bishop of this church in Smyrna.
In his old age—in his seventies or eighties—false Jews alerted authorities to his location. They bound him and brought him into the arena before thousands of people. The emperor gave him an ultimatum:
"Polycarp, denounce Jesus or we will burn you alive."
He refused. They gave him a second opportunity:
"If you do not denounce Jesus, we will set you on fire."
According to history, Polycarp responded to them in the theater: "These fires you are about to set will last for a little while and then go out. But the fire that you will endure is eternal. I will not call Caesar lord, for there is only one Lord, and His name is Jesus."
They bound Polycarp, put his body on a platform, and set him on fire. He died—the pastor of this church—for refusing to denounce Jesus.
What would you have done? Could you have survived that moment? Is your faith strong enough?
Now the mystery of Smyrna—myrrh—becomes clear.
Myrrh was produced by wounding trees to extract the oils. Trees had to be wounded, crushed, and bruised to produce this sweet fragrance. In the same way, the wounding you are going through, the hell you are going through, is God crushing you to produce a sweet fragrance in the earth—a testimony of faithfulness.
Some of you don't even realize that all the wounding you're experiencing is God crushing you to produce a fragrance of faithfulness. Through that crushing, through that wounding, through those constant beatings, He is perfecting your character. He is building your faith. Others are watching how you stay firm even in the middle of trial and persecution.
God did not choose to perfect us by giving us everything we want. He chose to perfect His bride through hardships and trials.
You have to keep coming out of storms. You go into them, go through them, and come out on the other side stronger and wiser with greater character and a stronger testimony for Jesus Christ.
I have taught our church for years: You cannot only live well; you must suffer well.
It is not enough to just know what to do from Monday through Saturday. You also need to know how to suffer well—how to go through stuff and not crumble. How to pray. How to trust God. How to be patient. How to give Him time as He works through what you're going through. How not to feel like God has abandoned you because He did not say yes to your last prayer.
Before my father died of cancer in my arms and received his crown, the Lord did not deliver him from that cancer. He died on a Saturday, and I had to preach on a Sunday. How's that for encouragement? This is real gospel ministry.
I say to myself all the time—and I mean this before God—when I am going through hell, I tell myself: Philip, the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared to the glory that shall be revealed when the Lord Jesus Christ comes to get me.
If you don't talk like that, you won't last. You have to be able to look hell in the face and say: This is nothing. You have to look at the diagnosis and say: This is nothing. You have to look at betrayal and say: This is nothing. You have to wipe your tears and be broken at night, on the floor breathing in pain, asking how this could be happening—and then wipe your eyes and say: For the sufferings of this present time are nothing compared to the glory that shall be revealed.
When I talk to myself like that, I find an internal power in Christ that makes me wipe my eyes, stand to my feet, and walk into that fire again. Not run away from it—engage it.
Some would have heard the preaching and believed that I am real. They would have believed that I am a real man of God. And I say to my Father: Look at all of these who heard the preaching of the gospel. We have been in different buildings. We have been kicked out of schools. But the gospel kept going forward. They all have washed their robes in the blood of the Lamb.
Now we're up here at the table. I need this for myself right now because I'm going through some hell. Jesus did not say yes to my last prayer. But I know that there is purpose in pain, and there is strength in suffering.
This Christian life is a scandal of triumphs and trials. It is the dance of victories and sorrows. In the end, we will stand back and look at the tapestry and say: "Oh Jesus, You were working in all of it all the time."
Nothing in your life catches God by surprise. He is sovereign. He is reigning over it all. Greater is He who is in you than he who is in the world. You must have a hope that goes beyond this life.
Wake up from false doctrine and false believing. Lean into suffering. Lean into trial. Lean into hardship. Keep coming out on the other side stronger, wiser, with greater character and a stronger testimony for the Lord Jesus Christ.
Eternal God and Father, we sense and feel Your presence. As we have broken the seals on this sacred document, let the weight of Your word rest on our hearts. Let it push us away from the fringes of our love affair with the world, and let it draw us in closer to You.
I pray for those in this room right now who are hurting, weary, tired, frustrated, betrayed, confused, bewildered. I pray for all those shedding tears. Wrap them in Your arms. Comfort them. Remind them that they are not alone—that whether on mountaintops or in valleys, we do not walk alone.
Thank You that You are the One who died and came back to life again. And so we too shall prevail. We pray this in the mighty, majestic, and matchless name of the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.