Whenever I’m traveling around, people will often ask me, “Where did you come from?” or “Where are you traveling from?” I find myself all over Georgia—sometimes for conferences, meetings, or simply visiting family. Just yesterday, for example, we went down to visit my mother-in-law.
When people ask, “How long did it take you to get here?” or “Where are you from?” I usually say, “Dalton.” Sometimes people know where that is, and sometimes they don’t. So I’ll add, “It’s just south of Chattanooga, Tennessee.” That usually helps them get their bearings.
Every now and then, they’ll respond, “Oh! Dalton—the carpet capital of the world.” I remember back in college, before I became a pastor, I was studying textile engineering. Professors would mention Dalton, saying, “Seventy-five to eighty percent of the world’s carpet comes from there.”
I used to raise my hand and ask, “Don’t you mean Georgia?” No. “Don’t you mean the United States?” No. They meant the world—literally the world. Dalton earned its reputation as the carpet capital of the world because so much of the world’s carpet is made here. And now, not just carpet, but all kinds of flooring materials as well.
Cities often become known for something—Chicago, for instance, is called the Windy City. Hopefully, what we’re known for is good and not something bad.
Laodicea
was a wealthy city in ancient Turkey where a group of Christians comprised a
church. They were known around the
region for banking, eye ointment, and fine textiles. Unfortunately, they were also known for their lukewarm water supply that was
neither cold and good for drinking (like nearby Colossae’s cold drinking water) nor hot and good for healing (like Hierapolis’ hot springs). Laodicea’s water supply was lukewarm and Jesus said so was their faith.
Revelation 3:14-22
14 “Write this letter to the angel of the church in
Laodicea. This is the message from the one who is the Amen—the faithful and
true witness, the beginning[e] of God’s new creation:
15 “I know all the things you do, that you are neither hot nor cold.
I wish that you were one or the other! 16 But since you are like lukewarm water, neither hot
nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth! 17 You say, ‘I am rich. I have everything I want. I
don’t need a thing!’ And you don’t realize that you are wretched and miserable
and poor and blind and naked. 18 So I advise you to buy gold from me—gold that has
been purified by fire. Then you will be rich. Also buy white garments from me
so you will not be shamed by your nakedness, and ointment for your eyes so you
will be able to see. 19 I correct and discipline everyone I love. So be
diligent and turn from your indifference.
20 “Look! I stand at the door and knock. If you hear my
voice and open the door, I will come in, and we will share a meal together as
friends. 21 Those who are victorious will sit with me on my throne, just as I
was victorious and sat with my Father on his throne.
22 “Anyone with ears to hear must listen to the Spirit
and understand what he is saying to the churches.”
Jesus said in verse 15 – “I know all the things you do, that you are neither hot nor cold. I wish that you were one or the other!”
Those words: “I wish that you were either hot or that you were cold.” Of course, what is He talking about? He’s not talking about water. He’s talking about their spiritual life—their faith.
To be hot is a good thing, to have a hot faith. That means you are on fire for Jesus, excited to be serving Him. You don’t mind coming to church, you don’t mind volunteering, and you don’t mind giving, because you’re excited and on fire for what Jesus is doing in your own life and in your community. You want to share that with others. It’s easy for us to understand that having a hot faith is a good thing. Jesus is the most important thing to such a person.
But Jesus says, “If you’re not hot, I wish you were cold.” And we might think, Well, how can being cold be a good thing? Why would Jesus want someone to be either hot or cold? Because if you’re cold, it means you don’t care about Jesus at all. You might not even be thinking about Him. You’re just living your life however you want, without faith. All you’re doing is living for yourself, often doing the wrong things—even bad things.
So why is that good? Because if you’re living like that, at least there’s a chance something will shake you and snap you out of it. If you’re sinning all the time, doing terrible things, and then something happens—maybe you get into a car wreck that rocks your world, or you’re diagnosed with a disease—it might shake you awake. You realize, Oh my gosh, I need to start getting my life right with God. I’ve been living a coldhearted life, but now I know it. Then, the next step is repentance and turning to God.
So, living a cold, dark life can at least give you the chance to change. But Jesus says the Laodiceans were not hot and not cold. They were lukewarm. And that is very, very dangerous.
If you are lukewarm in your faith, you claim to follow Jesus. You look like you’re following Jesus. You may act like you’re following Jesus. But you lack true passion and commitment. You’re not fully obedient to Him. Maybe you’re doing it for show, but not for real.
It’s dangerous because it blinds you to your need for repentance. It blinds you to the fact that you need renewal. And it risks giving you an excuse to keep going in the wrong direction—walking away from Christ when you should be turning back to Him.
See, if you were cold, you would know it. You don’t have to tell a drunk that he’s not doing the right thing. He’s ashamed of it. He knows it. He knows he needs to change. The struggle is being able to change, but at least he knows.
But there are many people in the world—and maybe even some of you reading this—who fall into this category. You’re not hot. You’re not cold. You’re lukewarm. From the outside, people might look at your life and say, “Well, they go to church, they give money, they do good things, they dress nice, they act like a good person, they say they follow Jesus. Looks like they’re a Christian.”
You may even look at your own life and say, “Well, I’m not a saint, but I’m not a sinner either. I’m somewhere in the middle. I go to church. I do the right things. I’m pretty good.”
But you don’t realize Jesus is not number one in you life. You have other things ahead of Him. That’s idolatry—putting something before God.
So if you are lukewarm, it’s dangerous because it gives you an excuse to keep coasting, to avoid change. Everyone else thinks you’re a good Christian. You even say that about yourself. But you don’t realize there are serious problems you need to address.
The lukewarm faith of the Laodicean Christians blinded them to their true spiritual condition. Jesus spoke the hard truth they needed to hear. And maybe it’s a hard truth some of us here today also need to hear.
Jesus said in verse 17, “You say, ‘I am rich. I have everything I want. I don’t need a thing!’ And you don’t realize that you are wretched and miserable and poor and blind and naked.”
You know, sometimes there can be in us a false sense of self-sufficiency.
Now, I’m the kind of person who believes in self-sufficiency. I like the idea of being able to do for myself. I like being independent, and that can be a good thing. But there are times when that sense of self-sufficiency crosses a line—when you feel like you can do it all yourself. And that’s not a good thing.
I think for many people, this is a natural progression in life. When you start out young, you struggle. You don’t have much income. You don’t have much knowledge. It’s hard to get a good job because you don’t yet have the training or experience you need. So, in those early years, you often realize just how vulnerable you are. You rely on others, and life feels difficult.
Maybe you’re going into debt because you don’t make enough money. You’re borrowing, struggling because you can’t do things on your own. You don’t know how. And so, many people at the beginning of life find themselves praying: “Lord, please help me. Please help me. I don’t know how I’m going to pay the bills at the end of the month. I don’t know what I’ll do if my car breaks down. It’s old, it’s secondhand, it’s got lots of problems—it’s constantly giving me trouble. Lord, please don’t let my car break down. I can’t afford to fix it.”
Have any of you ever been through that kind of life? Maybe you’re in it right now. You pray: “Lord, please help me. Don’t let my tire go flat. I can’t afford to buy another one.”
But then what happens? God answers prayers. Over time, you may get to a point in life where you’ve saved up a little money. Now, you still don’t want that tire to go flat, but not because you couldn’t survive it—rather, because you’d rather spend that money on something fun, like going to see the Braves. If you get a flat now, you can handle it. You don’t like it, but you’ll be okay.
And that’s when the shift begins. You start to think: “Well, it’s okay. I can handle it myself. I don’t need anyone to step in and save me.” Of course, you’d never say that out loud—especially in church. Church people don’t talk like that. But somewhere, way in the back of your mind, a thought creeps in: “It’s okay. I don’t need God to bail me out of this one. I can handle it myself.”
And that is where the danger comes. You start to develop this false feeling of self-sufficiency: “I’ve got insurance. I’ve got money in savings. I can do it myself.” And when that happens, you start to think you don’t need anyone else—and you don’t need Jesus.
That is a very dangerous place to be. Because our hope is not in our talents, not in our insurance, not in our savings, and not in our money. Our hope is in God. We don’t need to walk around constantly feeling fearful and vulnerable—but neither do we need to walk around with the false pride that says, “I can handle this life all by myself.”
Because the truth is: we can’t.
And that’s exactly where the Laodiceans found themselves. They were known for their wealth, and they believed they could handle life on their own.
Our
hope is not in our money.
The Laodicean's were known for their textile industry, making fine clothing that everyone around admired. People wanted clothing as good as the Laodiceans’. But Jesus said they were naked. Isn’t that interesting? He says, “You’re naked. You need to buy some white robes from me.”
In Scripture, nakedness symbolizes shame, exposure, and vulnerability.
Now, the Laodiceans thought they were finely clothed. They believed they were people to be admired. Their fashion was on point. But Jesus saw through their outer appearance. He said, “You might wear nice clothing. People may admire you for your fashion. But to me, you’re naked and vulnerable. And you ought to be ashamed of your spiritual condition, not proud of the clothing you’re wearing.”
The Laodiceans were known not only for their textiles but also for their eye ointment. They had a famous medical school that trained healers, who went out and treated people across the region. From that school, they developed a special ointment—a salve called the Phrygian powder. It was applied to the eyes and was believed to heal diseases, correct dysfunctions, or soothe pain.
People from all around craved this ointment and were willing to pay good money for it. Of course, that only made the Laodiceans even more wealthy, since they were selling medicine that others desperately wanted.
And yet, ironically, Jesus said they were “wretched, miserable, poor, blind, and naked.” Blind! They had this famous eye ointment, but they couldn’t even see their own spiritual condition. They were blind to how wretched they truly were.
Their wealth, their self-sufficient attitude, and their lukewarm faith had blinded them. They needed more than ointment for their eyes. They needed Jesus to cure their spiritual blindness.
Revelation 3:18–19 says, “So I advise you to buy gold from me—gold that has been purified by fire. Then you will be rich.” He’s not talking about physical gold. He’s talking about something spiritual, something that’s been refined. He is saying, Let your character be refined. Let the fire of tribulation and trial refine who you are on the inside.
Build up treasures in heaven—not by hoarding wealth on earth, but by doing good deeds, serving the Lord faithfully, and sacrificing for His kingdom. Then Jesus says, “Buy white garments from me so you will not be shamed by your nakedness.” They needed the Lord to give them spiritual clothing—to cover up their sin and their shame. He also says, “Buy ointment for your eyes so you will be able to see.”
And then Jesus says, “I correct and I discipline everyone I love. So be diligent and turn from your indifference.” It’s a hard word, but not an unkind word. It’s not unloving. He speaks it for their sake. He says, “I love you, and I correct those I love.”
So if you are here today and feel the Lord convicting you—if you sense He has placed a hard word upon your heart—don’t puff up with pride or get defensive. The Lord is not speaking to you from a judgmental spirit. He speaks as a loving parent to a child, saying: “I see this in you. You don’t see it. You’ve been distracted, and you’ve missed it. But I’m showing you for your own good—to help you be better, to heal you, to cover your shame, and to give you true riches in heaven.”
Perhaps there are some listening who feel Christ convicting them today. Has your faith grown lukewarm? Is Jesus truly the most important thing in your life—or has something else taken His place?
Don’t you long to go back to the time when you were on fire for Jesus? When you were excited just to worship Him? When serving wasn’t an obligation but an opportunity you craved? Maybe on the outside you still look like a Christian, but on the inside the passion has faded. The wholehearted commitment and obedience have diminished. That’s dangerous. It blinds you. It leaves you naked and ashamed.
So you try to cover it up—with the outward appearance of godliness—but you lack the inward spiritual power of true godliness. And no matter how hard you try, you cannot hide from Jesus. Remember, He is the one with eyes like burning fire. He sees into the very center of your soul. He knows what’s really in your heart when no one else can see.
And yet—I love what Revelation 3:20 says. Even though He sees the good, the bad, and the ugly in every one of us, He does not run away. Instead, it says He stands at the door and knocks. He knocks. He waits. He longs for us to open the door.
If we will welcome Him in, He will come and sit with us like a friend. He will share a meal with us—a meal of reconciliation, a meal of healing, a meal that nourishes us so we can grow into all He wants us to be.
As we close this message today, I want to give you an invitation. Whatever the Lord has spoken to your heart, listen. How will you respond?
Maybe He is calling you to turn around because you’ve been going in the wrong direction. Maybe you’ve been cold, and He wants to set you on fire. Or perhaps, more dangerously, you’ve been living a lukewarm faith. But Jesus does not want you blind. He does not want you deceived.
He wants you to see your true need. He wants you to turn to Him. He wants you to come home.
