To Smyrna

Well, good morning to you all. It's a real pleasure to be here at Brunsfield Evangelical

Church this Sunday morning and to worship with you. And I'm very grateful for the invitation

to preach as we take on the next three verses in the wonderful and sometimes difficult book

of Revelation. And we're looking at the second of the seven letters that we're working through,

a letter to this young, hard-pressed church in the city of Smyrna, a city that would now fall under

the boundaries of modern-day Turkey. So I'd invite you to open a Bible as we look at Revelation

Revelation 2:8–11

chapter 2, verses 8 to 11.

To the angel of the church in Smyrna write,

These are the words of him who is the first and the last, who died and came to life again.

I know your afflictions and your poverty, yet you are rich. I know about the slander of those who

say they are Jews and are not, but are a synagogue of Satan. Do not be afraid of what you're about to

suffer. I tell you, the devil will put some of you in prison to test you, and you will suffer

persecution for ten days. Be faithful, even to the point of death, and I will give you life

as your victor's crown. Whoever has ears, let them hear what the Spirit says to the churches.

The one who is victorious will not be hurt at all by the second death.

Let me just invite you to join me as we pray together.

Our gracious Heavenly Father,

when we're honest, we have to confess that sometimes we struggle to understand

what you're saying. And sometimes we can be slow to place our trust in you.

And sometimes even when we understand, we're reluctant to respond.

As we gather here this morning, we thank you for your word,

trusting in faith that the Bible speaks to us today,

and acknowledging that we need your help

if we are to hear it and respond rightly to it.

So by your word and your spirit, speak, and help us to love you more, to know you better,

and to respond again to the wonderful command and promise of the gospel.

In the name of your Son, Jesus Christ, we pray. Amen.

Until very recently, until May of this year, I was a student here in Edinburgh.

I was studying theology, and one of my classmates,

I'm going to change his name for reasons that might soon become obvious,

let's call him Stephen.

One of my classmates made the brave and unusual decision

to invite me and my wife round for dinner.

Now, I rarely say no to a dinner invite,

and at the set time, my wife and I turned up at Stephen's flat.

And at this point, I should point out that neither Stephen nor his wife are from Scotland.

They are international students who had travelled to Edinburgh

to spend time studying here, and they were from China.

And as we stood on the doorstep, and as I was talking to my wife,

I was already anticipating some cultural differences.

For one, this may surprise you, I don't speak Mandarin.

To my consternation, neither did my wife,

and I knew that Stephen's wife, at the very least, did not speak English.

And as we walked in the door, we were invited to exchange our shoes for slippers,

and I was very quickly given a fresh opportunity to embarrass myself with chopsticks.

And it was a really good evening.

We laughed, we talked, and we realized that Stephen, like me,

similar age, Christian, training for full-time Christian work,

lots in common, loves family, loves food.

And you could see, in a sense, that our lives were on parallel tracks.

But then we started talking beyond our studies, what was coming next,

and then things suddenly peeled off in very different directions.

For me, it seemed quite straightforward.

I had to do certain placements.

I had to gain certain experience,

and then one day hoped to serve in a useful way in a church,

hopefully somewhere that me and my wife were quite content and happy to live.

But for him, the picture was completely different.

Stephen would be returning to a church in his home country,

a church that wasn't permitted,

that was not approved of by the state.

And even as he studied,

there was a perennial threat that his visa might be taken away from him,

or that he might have his passport removed,

or that the mechanisms of citizenship and immigration

might be manipulated to separate him from his wife and his young baby daughter.

The church that he'd grown up in,

and the church he was likely to serve,

often had to meet at strange hours in the day.

They had to split into smaller groups and meet at homes.

Day and night, he had to publish and circulate Christian books in secret.

Plenty of common round.

But a radically different outlook.

And I left his flat feeling really full.

I had no idea what I'd eaten.

But I also felt greatly humbled.

Because here was a friend,

someone who was following the same Lord,

someone who was preaching the same words.

And yet, our expectations of what the Christian life was going to look like

were pulls apart.

And at first glance,

as we think of those three verses that were read aloud,

we can see how perhaps the words speak more directly to Stephen's situation than to mine.

Or we might imagine that they say more to the church in, say, Pakistan or Syria,

or perhaps in Turkey,

than it does in Brunsfield.

But by the grace of God,

these words from Jesus to this suffering church in Smyrna

do have something to say to us.

And it says something loud and clear

to each one of us

who follows Jesus

and calls him Lord.

Now, before we get into that,

I'm conscious that lots of people

have been coming and going from holidays.

There might be visitors here,

and this is there being thrown straight into this series.

So let me set the scene as we find it

in the book of Revelation.

This is the second, as I've said, of seven letters.

And these letters are being written down,

recorded by John.

And John is looking

from this rocky little island

of Patmos to the mainland.

And in a great vision,

he sees the church

in all its diversity

and yet its unity in Christ.

in the whole sweep of history.

And he looks out on this great vision

and he is confronted by a vision,

a vision we read of in chapter one

of seven lampstands.

And it's explained that these seven lampstands

are seven churches.

And there amid the lampstands,

we find Jesus.

And just as Jesus promised his disciples

in that great verse in the Great Commission,

surely I will be with you always

to the very end of the age.

Jesus is there.

He is present among the churches,

walking among the lampstands.

And he is tending to them.

He is speaking to them.

He is warning them,

encouraging them,

teaching them.

He has rebukes for them,

harsh words.

And when we look around the church

as we find it in Edinburgh

and in Scotland,

which is so often declining,

so often discouraged,

so often irrelevant,

we need very little persuasion

that we need to take seriously

what Jesus has to say

as he walks among the churches.

And Jesus knows the churches intimately.

If we imagine a tennis coach

watching Andy Murray,

he's not just interested in the scoreline,

he's watching the angle of his elbow.

He's watching the way he moves his feet,

every last serve, volley, chip, serve,

just to make these minute adjustments.

And Jesus knows these churches

as he walks among them.

He knows every facet of their lives.

He knows their faith,

their doubts,

their joys,

their pain,

every small detail

of their circumstance,

the opportunities they face,

and also the opposition.

And Christ speaks to these churches

that he knows so well

with penetrating insights.

There are no platitudes here.

We see in practice

what the writer to the Hebrews describes

in that famous verse in chapter four.

The word of God is living and active,

sharper than any double-edged sword,

penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit,

joints and marrow.

It judges the thoughts

and attitudes of the heart.

And so Christ speaks pointedly

with purpose and power

to the seven churches,

and he speaks to us today.

Last week, we looked at the church in Ephesus,

and we found a church

that had so much going for it,

so many plus points,

praiseworthy deeds,

hard work,

sweat,

perseverance,

sound teaching,

but

in the final analysis,

for all its activity and endeavor,

it had forgotten

its first love.

And if that letter emphasized

that love

is a key mark

of the Christian church,

the letter to Smyrna

focuses on something else,

a second key mark,

suffering.

And this leap

from love to suffering

might jar us at first,

but when we think about it,

we can see how the two

are immediately intertwined.

We think of a parent's

sacrificial love

for their child.

We think of the patriot

who will,

at great cost,

fight for their country.

Or the sports fan,

especially the Scotland sports fan,

who knows nothing

but hurt and disappointment

in their love and pride

for their country.

Or again,

the married couple

who,

with great forbearance

and love and care,

think back to their wedding vows

for richer,

for poorer,

in sickness and in health,

unto death us do part.

And they mean it.

And they mean it

when the money runs out.

And they mean it

when one of them

falls desperately ill.

And despite what

our popular culture

might suggest,

you're actually more likely

to find real love

by a hospital bed

or at a graveside

than you are

in a fancy restaurant

at a candlelit table

for two.

Real love

is not cheap.

It's costly.

And it's prepared

to suffer.

And we see

this kind

of suffering love

right through

the history

of the church.

There is the Christian's

love for their saviour,

a commitment

that is confessed

and lived out

even under the threat

of radical

and brutal

persecution.

We prayed

for some of these situations

just a few moments ago.

Situations we find today

in our world.

And here in Smyrna,

in the letter

we're looking at,

we find a church

who is under

extreme pressure,

beset with difficulties

opposition

and bleak,

draining,

exhausting

poverty.

And while the church

was struggling,

it found itself

surrounded by a city

that was thriving,

bustling with

commercial activity,

great,

impressive

architecture,

culture,

prosperity,

learning,

and a great

religious centre

for pagan worship

and for worshipping

the name

of the emperor.

and we have

the church

moving in a totally

different direction

from the society.

One is affluent

and upwardly mobile.

The other

is small

and squashed.

And Christ

is perfectly clear.

He doesn't try

and brush it

under the carpet.

He says in verse 9,

I know

your afflictions

and your poverty.

they're being

squeezed

from all sides

and it hurts.

It really hurts

and there are no

hidden reserves,

there are no

obvious moment

of respite,

there is no

material security

for them,

there is no

cheap get out

of jail card

free.

But then

the picture

is fleshed

out a little

in the second

half of verse 9

we read of one

strand of the

opposition,

one source

of these

difficulties.

The Jews,

a group who

had sought

it seems

to discredit

and disparage

the Christians.

And we read

a phrase

that may seem

quite troublesome

to us.

I know

the slander

of those

who say

they are

Jews

and are

not,

but are

a synagogue

of Satan.

Now this is

strong language,

perhaps an

offence to

our modern

sensibilities.

One suspects

it would be

immediately

censored

in our age

of political

correctness.

But it is

careful that we

are honest

about what's

being said

here and we

tease out

exactly

what is

meant.

We need

to consider

the background.

Now the very

first Christians

were of course

very Jewish.

Jesus was a Jew,

Paul was a Jew,

Peter was a Jew,

and they clung

to the Jewish

hope.

They studied

the ancient

Jewish scriptures,

our Old Testament.

They worshipped

Jesus Christ,

seeing him

as the fulfillment

of the promises

that had been

offered.

Many were

Jewish

converts.

Yet nonetheless

we see

in many occasions,

we see this right

through the book

of Acts,

the early church,

the first Christians

found themselves

coming into a

clash with the

established Jewish

authorities and

communities.

And in a church

like Smyrna,

the fledgling church

would contain a mix

of Jews and

non-Jews.

And then of course

there'd be the Jewish

community itself,

well established,

flourishing,

considerable in size,

quite influential

in the city.

but they did not

share the belief

that Jesus

was Lord.

And they did not

share the belief

that Jesus

was Messiah.

And some of the Jews

rejected this belief

and they slandered

those who would

follow Jesus

and call him

and worship

him as Lord.

And so cracks

began to appear

in a community

that once seemed

to be more

blended together.

And the Christians,

they didn't see

their faith,

as I've said,

they didn't see

it as something new,

as some novelty

invented out of nowhere.

But quite simply

it was impossible

within the Jewish

Christian community

to affirm on one hand

that Jesus is Lord

and on the other

that he isn't.

Therefore the question

became who is

a true Jew?

Who is true

to all these promises

that were given

in the scriptures

in the Old Testament?

Was it those

who are worshipping

Jesus?

Or is it those

who reject him

as a dangerous

novelty?

It's a difficult

question.

One answer is given

in a way by Paul

in Romans chapter 2

Romans 2 · chapter mention

and where he says

that a Jew,

the one who is a Jew,

is that one who

has the spirit

at work in their heart,

not merely someone

who's got the external

image and appearance

of a Jew

where it's on the outside.

It's about the heart.

And with this perspective

we can understand

Christ's verdict

in this letter

in these harsh words

that the Jews

in Swerna

have become

a synagogue

of Satan.

It's not a vague slur.

It's not a racial

hate crime.

It's not mudslinging.

The Satan,

literally,

the accuser.

And this community

have been launching

accusations

against the Christians,

slandering them

and distancing them

from the synagogue.

Now,

for us,

in our own small ways,

we perhaps know

that experience

of being excluded,

of being pushed

out of a group.

To think with regret

and sorrow,

I actually used

to fit in here,

but now I'm not welcome.

To be ostracized,

no longer part of the club,

the team,

and in some sad situations,

no longer part

of the family.

To have your bridges

utterly burnt.

But for the church

in Smyrna,

there were immediate

practical

and particular

consequences

because the Jews

were in an unusual

position in that

they had established

certain privileges.

They weren't expected

to participate

in the same way

with all that was

going on in the rest

of the city,

this worship

that was focused

on a man,

focused on the emperor.

And whereas initially,

from the point of view

of everyone else,

the Christians were

indistinguishable

from the Jews

and therefore had

the same privileges,

suddenly those privileges

were stripped away.

And the expectation

came to the Christian,

you should be participating

like everyone else.

Why can't you?

And it was clear

that the Christians

were caught between

a rock and a hard place,

ostracized from the Jews

who had thrown them out

and ostracized

from the society

that wanted them

to worship a man God.

And so,

in the midst of a city

that is booming,

that is prosperous,

that is on the up,

we have this dismal picture

of a church

that is poor

and persecuted,

suffering because

they would not betray

the Lord they love.

So we have this rich

and full picture

of Smyrna,

Smyrna,

the suffering church,

and for many Christians

through history

and around the world today,

Smyrna's story

is their story

and it's a difficult story

and in some measure

it may be

or have been

or perhaps will be

in the future

our experience as well.

By the grace of God,

I know in my experience

I've been spared

any threat

of physical violence

for my faith.

but perhaps you have

or you know

the bitter taste

of an unjust insult

or you've endured

that snub

or exclusion

being overlooked

or you find yourself

or your church

or the Bible

ridiculed,

overlooked,

caricatured,

presented in a straw man

argument

or perhaps you've been

the young student

who goes to join

the university rugby team

and they're told

they can only take part

if they take part

in some ritual

that would utterly

shame the name of Jesus

and probably play havoc

with their digestive system.

But that's beside the point.

Or the individual

who stands

and they're trying

to have a serious conversation

and they're told

plainly to their faith

that they've committed

intellectual suicide,

that their faith

is a crutch,

that they're intolerant

or arrogant

or manipulative

or bigoted

or simply naive.

The slander comes

and difficulties follow.

And it is inevitable

because the church,

the church is in the world.

It is rooted

in the unfolding of history

and in culture

and all that's going on.

But it is committed

to the lordship

of Jesus Christ.

It has a firm allegiance.

And to the world,

this allegiance

which is outside the world

is a disturbing fact.

And the church is therefore

a problematic presence.

And the world around us

may perhaps only raise

an eyebrow in derision

at the Christian

who calls Jesus their friend

or their savior.

But when the church

takes a stand

and says,

Jesus is not just my friend.

Jesus is lord

and Jesus is king.

And when the church

proclaims that there is

an authority

in Jesus Christ

that does not follow

under the authority

of me, myself, and I

and my own preferences.

That proclaims an authority

that does not fall

under the majority rule.

That proclaims an authority

that doesn't get swept aside

by someone

because they're wealthy

or healthy

or educated.

An authority

that does not fall

under

the all-consuming power

of human reason

as it often appears today.

When the church

proclaims that kind

of authority,

when it calls Jesus

lord and king,

it will be met

not with a raised eyebrow

but with a clenched fist.

this is Smyrna's situation.

This may be

our situation.

And we need to listen

carefully to what Christ

says to this suffering church.

To begin with,

he does not waste words

explaining the suffering.

Nor does he promise

a quick removal

of the suffering.

Though he does hint

that they may well be,

in fact they will be,

delivered through it,

he says,

do not be afraid.

But even as he

invites them

to have courage

and not to fear

what is happening,

he offers another warning.

There is more suffering

to come.

In verse 10,

we see what they are

to expect.

Prison.

You may lose

your freedom.

Persecution.

You may lose

your security

and peace.

Death.

You may even

lose your life.

What then are we

to make of this

marginalized

and downtrodden church?

How are they

in their own minds,

in their own faith,

supposed to match up

a God of love

and grace

with their present

afflictions?

I wonder if you've

spent time

reading through

the Psalms.

I wonder if you've

read Psalm 73.

It's a kind of

wrestling psalm

where the psalmist

is taking hold

of God

and saying,

what's going on here?

You might want

to turn to it now,

Psalm 73.

I'm just going

to pick out

a few phrases.

It starts like this.

Surely,

God is good

to Israel.

Surely,

there is an

expectation.

And yet,

as the psalm

unfolds,

it is clear

that this

confession,

this belief,

is held

despite circumstances,

despite disappointment.

Verses 2-4.

As for me,

my feet

had almost slipped.

I had nearly

lost my foothold.

I envied the arrogant

when I saw

the prosperity

of the wicked.

Upwardly mobile

Smyrna.

They have no

struggles.

Their bodies

are healthy

and strong.

And we see

this perspective

in the suffering

church

in an affluent

world.

There is the church

feeling like

the ground

is being ripped

from under them.

And then there are

others who seem

so prosperous

and happy.

And then in verse 13,

this grim question.

Surely,

in vain,

I've kept

my heart pure

and have washed

my hands

in innocence.

And perhaps

this is the question

for Smyrna.

Is there poverty

in vain?

Is there faithfulness

in the midst

of suffering

and afflictions?

Is this all

for nothing?

You need to listen

to what Christ

is saying

to the church.

And the answer

is surely

no

and no

again.

Because where

the world sees

and where we

with worldly eyes

see poverty

and lack

and disappointment,

Christ sees

great riches.

For what Christ

is measuring

is not

temporal prosperity

or influence

or position

which is here

today and gone

tomorrow,

the rise and fall

and the rich and famous.

He is looking

at spiritual riches

that do not perish,

that will not spoil

or fade away.

And so we have

a paradox

that is at the heart

of the Christian church

wherever it is found

that the true riches

of the church

are found

in poverty.

This is something

Christ taught.

We could read the Beatitudes

in Luke 6.

Blessed

are the poor,

the hungry,

the mourning,

the weeping

and the excluded.

And Jesus,

of course,

lived it

and died it.

Paul puts it

in his second letter

to the Corinthians

in chapter 8,

verse 9.

As he seeks

to encourage a church,

he points

to the grace

of Christ

who,

though he was rich,

yet for your sakes

became poor

so that through

his poverty

might become

rich.

And so Christ

says to the church,

I know you.

I know your poverty

and your struggles.

I know them

because I've lived them

and I died them

and I tell you

that you are rich

in God's economy.

And he says to them

to be faithful,

to not be afraid,

even in the midst

of their suffering.

Yes,

the world sees something

that is broken

and brittle

and fragile,

and Christ

is not going to promise

a consolation prize,

but rather he

fortifies them

for this struggle,

the struggle that will

continue for some time

and he promises them

the most wonderful prize.

Drawing on the image

of this city

that had a great stadium

in the center

and had a great taste

for pageantry

and occasion,

he promises them

something

like an Olympic medal

except it's a wreath.

It's bestowed

on the head

of a champion.

Christ calls it

a crown

and it's a crown

that is not for the athlete

or the scholar

or the powerful ruler,

but it is a crown

for the powerless,

the penniless,

irrelevant church,

the church

that will remain faithful,

clinging on,

even unto death.

It's a great prize

and it's a wonderful promise

that in faithful suffering

comes great blessing

and this is the promise

of the one who walks

among the lampstands,

the one who is first

and who is last,

who outlives

and outstretches

every empire

and overrules

every emperor,

one who endured

the quiet abandonment

and anxiety

of Gethsemane

and the public horror

of Golgotha,

who knows

spiritual emptiness,

abandonment,

injustice,

mockery,

violence

and death,

one who introduces himself

as one who died

and rose again.

This is the one

who promises the crown,

who holds out the prize.

This is the one

who is sovereign

even in the midst

of persecution.

And yes,

persecution is coming

from this church.

It speaks of 10 days,

not 240 hours,

but a finite time.

A finite time

known by one

who is first and last,

who knows all our ends

from the very beginning,

our Lord

and our Savior.

Let me finish

with a story,

a story from history,

a story from Smyrna,

the story of Polycarp,

who was one of the great

early Christian leaders.

He met John,

who wrote Revelation,

in his childhood,

and he died

on the 23rd of February,

155 AD.

And this is his story.

Polycarp refused

to take part

in a simple ritual.

There was nothing

especially drizzly about it.

Just sprinkle

some powder,

some incense

and confess

that Caesar

is Lord.

A small compromise.

It wouldn't directly affect

the health and happiness

of anyone he knew

or cared about.

But he refused.

And he was arrested

and brought into the stadium

where before the crowds

and before the government official,

he was appealed to

to spare himself

the death penalty.

And he refused.

They said,

swear

and I'll set you free.

Curse Christ.

That was the invitation.

And this old man

replied,

80 and 6 years

I have served him

and he never did me

any injury.

How then

can I blaspheme

my King

and Savior?

And that same day

this old man

of faith

was martyred.

And his faith

was in this

great King

the one who is first

and is last

who died

and came to life again

who says to his disciples

on the cusp

of his great

hour of suffering

in this world

you will have

trouble

but take heart

I have overcome

the world.

we live

in a scary

and broken world.

This morning

the Home Secretary

announced

new funding

to protect

places of worship

and the Church of Christ

in our world

is a suffering church

but we're to take heart.

He who has an ear

let him hear

what the Spirit says

to the churches.

Let us pray.

Lord our God

our King and Savior

we live our lives

here in this city

and in other places

and it is our privilege

to know

and worship you.

And as we study

your word

this morning

we find it

widens our vision

and it reminds us

that at the heart

of our faith

is a suffering king

and that your church

is a suffering church.

Lord in our own

sufferings

help us to be

encouraged

to be faithful

to hold on

to the promises

you hold out for us

and in our times

of peace

and prosperity

help us to pray

and to remember

and to honour

those who

the cost of following

you is not merely

inconvenience

but that costs them

their very last breath

and penny.

May they know

your comfort

may they hear

your voice

we pray.

Amen.