To listen to the full unabridged audio listen here: The Last Four Churches
We are picking up right where we left off in Revelation chapter 2. Last time, we covered the first three churches: Ephesus, Smyrna, and Pergamum. Today, we turn our attention to the final four.
As a reminder, each of these letters is addressed to the “angel” of that particular church. Many commentators, myself included, believe the Greek word angelos is better translated here as “messenger” or “pastor.” It makes much more sense in this context that these letters are being addressed to the earthly overseers of these congregations.
Furthermore, we must remember that the number seven represents completion. While these were seven real, historical churches in Asia Minor, they also provide a composite image of the whole church in all places for all time. As we walk through these descriptions, you might see glimpses of our own church, or perhaps a reflection of a season we’ve walked through in the past.
Thyatira: The Danger of Appearances
Reading: Revelation 2:18–29
Thyatira was a trade hub on the road to the capital, Pergamum. It was a manufacturing center filled with “trade guilds”—think of them like labor unions for carpenters, weavers, or bakers. The catch? Each guild had its own “god.” To be successful in business, you were expected to attend guild parties, offer sacrifices, and often engage in the ritual immorality that followed.
For a Christian, this created a crisis of integrity. If you didn’t participate, you didn’t get work. If you didn’t get work, you didn’t eat.
Enter “Jezebel.” Whether this was a specific woman or a symbolic name (referencing the Old Testament queen who led Israel into idolatry), she was teaching a dangerous compromise: Go into the darkness to be relevant. She suggested that Christians could participate in these pagan rituals as a way to “know the deep secrets” of the enemy, perhaps under the guise of being more effective witnesses.
Jesus describes himself here as having “eyes like blazing fire”—the kind of gaze that looks straight into the soul. He commends their service and love, noting they are doing more now than at the start. On the outside, Thyatira looked like a “mega-church” success story. But on the inside, they were tolerating a rot that compromised their very identity.
Sardis: The Church on Autopilot
Reading: Revelation 3:1–6
Sardis is the church of “resting on your laurels.” Jesus tells them, “You have a reputation of being alive, but you are dead." They were living in the past. They were like sports fans who only want to talk about the championship they won in the nineties while ignoring the fact that they haven’t won a game in years. They had become apathetic and lazy in their faith, “soiling their clothes” with the dust of inactivity.
Jesus’ command is simple: Wake up. A church cannot survive on history alone; faith requires a present, active movement of the Spirit.
Philadelphia: Success Defined as Faithfulness
Reading: Revelation 3:7–13
Philadelphia was a small, missionary-minded city. In the eyes of the world, this church was insignificant. They didn’t have the wealth of Laodicea or the political status of Pergamum.
Yet, Jesus has no rebuke for them. Why? Because they endured patiently. They held onto the Word despite having “little strength.”
This is a vital word for us today. In American Christianity, we often measure success by the “Triple Bs”: Butts in seats, Bucks in the plate, and Buildings on the campus. But to Jesus, success is defined by one thing: Faithfulness. If a church remains loyal to the Gospel, Jesus considers it a triumph.
Laodicea: The Wretchedness of Self-Sufficiency
Reading: Revelation 3:14–22
Laodicea was the “Birmingham, Michigan” of the region—a place of extreme wealth and power. The people there were hoity-toity, and they knew it. They claimed, “I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing."
But Jesus gives them an “Emperor’s New Clothes” moment. He tells them they are actually “wretched, pitiful, poor, blind, and naked.” They were lukewarm—neither the refreshing cold water of the mountains nor the healing hot springs of nearby Hierapolis. They were the room-temperature water that makes you want to gag.
What is beautiful here is Jesus’ tone. He doesn’t come in swinging punches. He says, “I counsel you…" It is a gentle invitation to trade their temporary wealth for “gold refined in fire.” He stands at the door and knocks, asking for a return to intimacy.
The Remnant and the Standard
In almost every one of these letters, Jesus mentions a remnant—a small group of people who are still doing the work, even when the institution around them has grown cold or compromised.
As followers of Christ, we are held to a higher standard. We don’t get to hide behind the excuse of being “just human” to justify hypocrisy. Like a teacher who gives a gifted student a ‘C’ because they know the student is capable of ‘A’ work, Christ disciplines those He loves because He wants the best version of us.
The American church today reflects a lot of Laodicea. We are comfortable, we are wealthy, and we often substitute business principles for the move of the Spirit. The question for us—and for every church in every age—is this: Will we hear the voice of the One knocking, and will we have the courage to open the door?
The rest of Revelation is going to get “exceptionally weird,” but if we hold onto these principles of integrity and perseverance, the vision becomes clear. It is not a book of fear; it is a call to remain faithful to the end.