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
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
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.