The Indicative/Imperative of the Laodicean Problem, or, Please, No More Gauntlet Sermons

All across America, on any given Sunday, a Christian church pastor is throwing down the proverbial gauntlet before his congregation. We’ll call it "the gauntlet sermon." He’s probably citing the third chapter of John’s Revelation as his text: the part about the Laodicean church. You remember, that’s the lukewarm one. Neither hot nor cold. God’s gonna spit them right outa his mouth!

The indicative of these sermons is, "God doesn’t like lukewarm churches." The imperative is, "Get off your hands and do something!" These sermons are generally preached by pastors who are frustrated by a lack of enthusiasm and/or a dearth of volunteers for the various church ministries. Not enough ushers, not enough Sunday school teachers, not enough kid-sitters for the toddler-room, etc. Twenty percent of the people doing one hundred percent of the work. How can that be fair? Such people are leaving a bad taste in the Father’s mouth!

Am I striking a familiar cord? I’ve heard the all-out (near tirade) gauntlet sermon, and I’ve heard the more subtle, "kinder/gentler" variety, but the indicative/imperative of all these sermons is essentially the same. Indicative: "You’re not doing enough (i.e., you’re lukewarm)." Imperative: "Start doing more! Or God just might vomit you out of his mouth."

What shall we do with a sermon like this? I mean, where does one begin to describe the sad, anti-Christian dysfunction of such a message? As if the assembling of the saints for worship were essentially a staffing problem. As if church were merely a collection of ministries. Imagine it: people who are trying (or perhaps, sadly, not trying) to love their neighbors, to serve their families, to be salt and light in the workplace, have to endure being told that the true measure of spiritual worth is, apparently, how much they do at church!

I don’t get it. How can something so utterly foreign to the testimony of the Word of God make its way so routinely into the churches of this land? But just in case you were wondering about the Laodiceans, does anyone really think their problem was a lackluster record of volunteerism for church ministries?

I mean, read the passage carefully. Ask yourself, what is the fundamental indicative here? That is, what is the main point that Jesus is making about the Laodiceans? And then ask yourself, what is the fundamental imperative? What is being asked of them? Go read it and come back. I'll wait.

Do you see? The Laodiceans are smug and self-satisfied. They're well-off in the material sense, but in the spiritual sense they are "wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked." That's the indicative. That tells us everything we need to know about the Laodiceans.

And now, what's the imperative?

I counsel you to buy from me gold refined by fire, so that you may be rich, and white garments so that you may clothe yourself and the shame of your nakedness may not be seen, and salve to anoint your eyes, so that you may see. Those whom I love, I reprove and discipline, so be zealous and repent. Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.

Refined gold and white garments are symbols of righteousness. No one gets such garments out of merit, since no man is righteous. These are a gift of God, beginning to end. Like Isaiah said.

So then, what is the real imperative here?

Simply this: "Repent!"

Does that have a familiar ring? Here's my point. This passage has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with church volunteerism. Pastors, get over yourselves. The one matter of importance here is, Jesus stands at the door and knocks! It has ever been so. It was so before I ever became a Christian, and it is so now. It is so for each one of us, and it is so for our churches. He stands at the door, knocking, letting us know he is there, and that perhaps we might want to let him in.

Now, if I should run to the door and answer, if I should "let Jesus in," will that mean I'll sign-up for usher-duty next week, feeling properly chastised?

Maybe, maybe not. But the point is, what the Laodiceans needed, what I need, what you need, is Jesus. Then, when we go to church, we will celebrate and extol Him, rather than hearing about our supposedly neglected responsibilities.

That's what I think.