Ephesians 2:4-6 Zechariah 4:1-7 2 Timothy 3:10-17 Revelation 3:1-6
The Sermons to the Seven Churches: The Church of Deadly Complacency (1)
On the morning of 11 August 1974, the streets of Lower Manhattan were still shaking off the dawn when a young Frenchman stepped out into the sky. Philippe Petit, after more than six years of meticulous planning, stepped onto a steel cable stretched between the two towers of the World Trade Centre, a wire suspended about 410 metres above the ground.
Everything about the event had been carefully planned: the hidden preparations, the clandestine entry into the towers, the precision engineering of the cable, the tensioning, the rehearsals. Petit was not a daredevil improviser; he was an artist of discipline and intense concentration.
But about five months later, on 7 January 1975, Petit experienced a very different moment. On the very day he was to premiere with the Ringling Brothers Circus, during a routine practice session, he slipped from the wire and fell. This time there was no glorious skyline, no cheering crowds, just the rehearsal hall floor, only about 13–14 metres below him. He survived, though badly bruised and with broken ribs.
What struck observers most was not his injuries but his reaction. He was furious, allegedly shouting, “I can’t believe it! I can’t believe it! I don’t ever fall!”
That cry captures the heart of what we call complacency. Not laziness, not apathy, but a misplaced confidence…an assumption that because we have succeeded before, we will succeed again without vigilance.
It is the subtle relaxation of watchfulness.
The ancient city of Sardis, capital of the Lydian kingdom, sat atop a rugged acropolis, with sheer cliff faces on three sides, rising approximately 450 metres above the surrounding plain. From a distance, it appeared utterly unconquerable, a city rendered impregnable by nature itself. Even if part of the city on the plain was taken, the citadel on the hill was easily defended. Location, location, location…but history proved otherwise.
In 547 BC, during the reign of King Croesus of Lydia, Sardis faced the armies of Cyrus the Great of Persia. Croesus, trusting the city’s natural defences, left sections of the cliffs unguarded. After a long siege, a Persian soldier noticed a Lydian guard accidentally drop his helmet over a cliff and then climb down a hidden crevice to retrieve it. That night Persian troops scaled that same unguarded route and opened the gates from within. Sardis fell because the king and his subjects assumed that no one would ever be able to penetrate their defences.
But then, centuries later, between the years 215–213 BC, Antiochus III (the Great), captured Sardis because of a remarkable episode of betrayal. After the Battle of Raphia, the Egyptian minister Sosibius sought to rescue Achaeus, a Seleucid nobleman and rebel governor who had taken refuge in the citadel of Sardis. Sosibius hired a Cretan operative named Bolis, who claimed to know a secret path down the dangerous cliffs and promised to lead Achaeus safely out under cover of night.
But Bolis had other plans. He secretly joined forces with Cambylus, an officer in the army of Antiochus the Great, and with one of his own lieutenants. Together they decided to keep Sosibius’ money, betray the mission, and hand Achaeus over to Antiochus for an even greater reward.
Their scheme worked. Achaeus was lured out, captured, and executed and soon after, the citadel of Sardis surrendered, bringing the supposedly impregnable city down once again, this time through deceit rather than assault.
Nevertheless the complacency of Achaeus and those defending the citadel in the face of the supposed security lay behind the second fall of Sardis.
And so, across the ancient Mediterranean world, the story of Sardis became a warning about pride, false security, and spiritual sleep. A city thought to be unsinkable sank twice.
Now, in AD 17, Sardis was shattered by a violent earthquake that levelled much of the city. Its restoration, funded lavishly by Tiberius Caesar, was hailed as nothing less than a rebirth. Not surprisingly, as the city rose again from its ruins, devotion to the imperial cult blossomed. Sardians spoke of Tiberius as their benefactor and their saviour; they owed their “resurrection” to him, and their renewed loyalty followed.
Alongside the honours paid to Rome and its Emperor, the other major cults of Sardis revolved around the gods of healing and of renewed life. The worship of Asclepius, the Greek god of healing whose emblem was the serpent, promised restoration to the sick…while the venerable local devotion to Cybele, the Great Mother goddess, long associated with death and revival, or winter and spring, infused the city with the hope of revived life. These deities together cultivated an atmosphere where healing, renewal, and life-from-the-dead were woven into the city’s spiritual imagination.
In many ways, Sardis lived and boasted on the myth of its own resurrection. Having been “raised” by the grace of Caesar, the populace grew complacent, convinced their city was secure. They did not even bother to post night guards on their walls, despite having twice fallen to enemies in their history due to this very negligence. It was as though the lessons of the past could no longer reach them through the haze of presumed safety.
Now, tragically, it seems the church in Sardis mirrored the character of the slack and presumptuous society around it. Instead of remaining vigilant against the stealthy onslaught of the evil one, they absorbed the attitude of the city: confident in their reputation, careless in their watchfulness, and blind to the danger creeping up the proverbial slopes once again.
When Jesus addressed the church in Sardis in Revelation 3, the geography and particularly the history might have formed the backdrop for what he had to say. The Christians in Sardis lived in a city famous for its self-assured confidence and its devastating collapses.
The title Jesus used in this sermon centred on his sovereignty as the Lord of the Church and as the only true giver of life. As we have seen, all authority in both heaven and earth had been given to Jesus and his goal as the reigning monarch of the universe is to bring all his enemies under his divine rule. His prayer for the nations as his inheritance (Psalm 2) reflects his command for us to make disciples of all nations (Matthew 28:18-20).
In this sermon, Jesus presented himself as the one “who has the seven spirits of God and the seven stars.” The seven spirits is an image of the Holy Spirit taken from Zechariah 4 as we already saw in the opening chapter of the Revelation. This is a case of the biblical numeric system, 7 being the number of the Divine.
But what I want us to focus on today is the fact that Jesus said that he “has the seven spirits of God”. Jesus has the Holy Spirit. Now what exactly does that mean theologically speaking?
Well, first, it means that in some way, Jesus is the giver of the Holy Spirit. In John 15:26, Jesus said, “But when the Helper comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth, who proceeds from the Father, he will bear witness about me.” Then later in John 16:7 he said, “Nevertheless, I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Helper will not come to you. But if I go, I will send him to you.” In Acts 2:33 Peter said, “Being therefore exalted at the right hand of God and, having received from the Father the promise of the Holy Spirit, he has poured out this that you yourselves are seeing and hearing.”
So, having the Spirit is somehow linked to giving or sending or pouring out the Spirit. As Jesus has the Spirit he is able to give the Spirit to us.
Knowing that Jesus has the Holy Spirit and that he sends or pours out the Holy Spirit helps us avoid several extreme views on the work of the Holy Spirit. The first is Amyraldism, named after the 17th-century French theologian Moses Amyraut (1596-1664), which teaches that salvation provided through Jesus’ sacrificial death was a universal provision for all people, while the Holy Spirit applied that salvation only to the elect. This makes grace universal in its offer but particular in its effect. Yet this view creates a tension Scripture does not allow, because it separates the saving intention of the Son from the saving application of the Spirit. In the New Testament, Father, Son, and Spirit work in perfect harmony: Jesus died for those the Father gives him (John 6:37–40), and the Spirit applies precisely what Jesus has obtained (Rom 8:9–11; Titus 3:5–6). If Jesus has supposedly purchased salvation for all, can the Spirit, whom Jesus himself gives and pours out, apply that salvation only to a few? Scripture never divides the Trinity in this way; the same people for whom Jesus died are the same people to whom the Spirit gives life (John 14:16–17; 16:7–15). Those whom the Son has set free, are free indeed (John 8:36).
The second is a form of neo-Pentecostal revisionism that crops up in liberal theology which sometimes teaches that the Holy Spirit continues to reveal new truths that may go beyond, or even contradict, the Scriptures. Yet this stands against the biblical testimony that Jesus himself is the Father’s final revelation (Heb. 1:1–2) and that the Spirit’s ministry is never independent from Jesus. Indeed, Jesus taught that the Spirit’s role is to bring to remembrance all that he taught his disciples (John 14:26), to glorify Jesus by taking what is his and declaring it to believers (John 16:14), and to speak nothing on his own authority but only what he hears from the Son (John 16:13). Any claim of new revelation that does not flow from, point to, and remain consistent with the words of Jesus contradicts the very nature of the Spirit’s work. Scripture shows Father, Son, and Spirit acting as a perfect unity; therefore, the Spirit will never disclose a “truth” that differs from the final and complete revelation God has given us in his Son.
Jesus has the Spirit and therefore they cannot operate independently. As the Holy Spirit is given or poured out by Jesus, he brings to mind the words Jesus has spoken, and he glorifies Jesus by revealing the truth to us.
Now, to the church in Sardis, this fact was extremely important. As Jesus is the one who has the Spirit, whom the Creed calls “the Lord and giver of life”, it stands to reason that Jesus is also the one who imparts life through the Holy Spirit. It is Jesus who sets us free through the agency of the Holy Spirit sent to us by both the Father and the Son. It is Jesus who brings to life those who were once dead in trespasses and sins.
So note that Jesus not only has the “seven spirits of God” or, in other words, the Holy Spirit, but he also has the seven stars. Again, this is an image we have encountered before that represents the leaders or pastors of the seven churches in Asia. Now, in one sense this is very comforting. Jesus has all pastors which means he is with all pastors.
But just as Jesus has the Holy Spirit and gives him or pours him out on those who are being saved, so too he has us and gives us to those who are being saved. In this sense the task of the Holy Spirit and the task of the pastor is similar…not that pastors can convict or change hearts or impart life to sinners…of course no human being can do that…but in the task we have been given as pastors, we, like the Holy Spirit, cannot operate independently of Jesus. In other words, every pastor is subject to and answerable to and accountable to Jesus.
Jesus alone is the head of the Body, the Church (Ephesians 1:22-23; 5:23; Colossians 1:18). Lose sight of this and we lose our identity. I am not the ultimate authority of my life nor am I the ultimate authority of the lives of others. We are all subject to the Lord Jesus, and he alone reigns over us and exercises authority over us. Every spiritual leader in the Church is subject to his direction through the guidance of the Holy Spirit through his Word.
No one may speak on their own authority…just like the Holy Spirit only speaks what he hears so too must we preach only what we read in Holy Scripture. We do not represent the Lord of heaven when we spout our own opinions or the opinions of others or the traditions of others…when we do so, the church begins to die.
Now, in many ways, Sardis would appear to have been an ideal church. There was no persecution, no heretical teaching, and no opposition from within or from without. All seemed to be at peace.
And yet, Jesus said to them: “I know your works. You have the reputation of being alive, but you are dead.” Oops. It seems that the church was so complacent that their fundamental worldview was no different from the surrounding culture.
It is important to note that to be called “dead” by Jesus did not mean that the church lacked the appearance of being alive. To be declared “dead” by Jesus means that you have become separated from the very source of all life.
In Ephesians 2:4-6, Paul said, “But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ – by grace you have been saved – and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus…” In other words, the word “dead” indicates a lack of spiritual life. The church in Sardis claimed the name of the one who is life, but in reality, they did not have him at all…they were dead. They had the “appearance of godliness”, but they had denied its power (2 Timothy 3:5). Faith without the works that reveal it's reality, is lifeless and ineffective (James 2:17).
It does not help to call ourselves by the name of Jesus and then to live lives as if we belong only to ourselves. If we belong to Jesus…if we truly love him…we must obey him (John 14:15, 21). It isn’t always easy to observe spiritual decay, but the absence of persecution in this church may indicate that something was not quite right. If you can co-exist with the world and the world with you, then perhaps you may have the same problem as this church. As Paul said in 2 Timothy 3:12, “…all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted…” The world doesn’t like people who take the Gospel seriously.
So, like the complacent kings, guards, and the general population of Sardis, the church in Sardis needed to wake up, and to strengthen what remained and was about to die, for Jesus had not found their works complete in the sight of God. They had claimed a name of vitality but had nothing to defend such a claim. They were asleep on the job, perhaps assuming that past strength guaranteed present faithfulness.
To them their spiritual cliffs seemed high and secure and yet the enemy had already found cracks and so Jesus called them to vigilance and watchfulness…the exact opposites of complacency. They were to strengthen what remained, the opposite of drifting.
Perhaps Jesus’ warning that he would come “like a thief” was a deliberate echo of Sardis’s military history, when invaders climbed the cliffs at night while the guards slept. But the message is unmistakable: What looks unassailable from the outside may already be rotting from within if watchfulness is lost.
Like Petit and many others throughout history, we too may walk confidently through life, mastering our routines, experienced in ministry, disciplined in our roles, and yet it is often in the “small rehearsals,” the places where no one is watching, that spiritual complacency takes its toll. Like Sardis, we may take refuge in our traditions, our history, our previous faithfulness, our reputation as a “strong church,” or our spiritual achievements of long ago.
But Jesus does not evaluate reputations, he weighs realities. He does not ask, “how high are your cliffs?” but “are you awake?” Complacency is often the quiet decay beneath a polished surface. It is the unguarded cliff. It is the 14-metre practice fall rather than the 410-metre triumph. And so Jesus says to his church and to each believer:
Wake up. Strengthen what remains. Remember what you received. Hold fast. Repent. This is not a rebuke meant to shame, but a summons meant to restore. It is the call of a Lord who desires to make his church truly alive, not merely apparently alive.
Shall we pray?
© Johannes W H van der Bijl 2025
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