Vomit Faith
In the autumn of 1784, a twenty-five-year-old Member of Parliament jolted across the stone-paved roads of Europe, bouncing in a carriage pulled by the uneven gait of horses. William Wilberforce had inherited a fortune, won his seat at twenty-one, and was close friends with the Prime Minister. He was charming, successful, and independent. To be heard over the rattling of the wheels, he and his friend Isaac Milner loudly read Philip Doddridge's The Rise and Progress of Religion in the Soul to each other. As they swayed from side to side, something started to shake loose in his soul.
Revelation 3:14-22
And to the angel of the church in Laodicea write: "These are the words of the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the originator of God's creation: I know your works, that you are neither cold nor hot. How I wish you were either cold or hot! So, because you are lukewarm, neither hot nor cold, I am about to vomit you out of my mouth. For you say, 'I am rich; I have made my fortune; I need nothing.' And you do not realize that you are the one who is wretched and pitiful, poor and blind and naked. I counsel you to buy from me gold refined by fire, so you may be rich; and white garments to wear, so the shame of your nakedness will not be exposed; and salve to rub on your eyes, so you may see. Those whom I love, I rebuke and discipline. So be zealous, and repent. Here I am! I am standing at the door and knocking. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me. The one who conquers, I will give him a seat with me on my throne, just as I myself conquered and sat down with my Father on his throne. The one who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit is saying to the churches."
Revelation records Jesus' words to seven churches. The last one is the least because it's lukewarm. It's the only one of the seven that has no commendation. I've often thought "lukewarm" meant "lack of passion," but there's a sharper critique. Laodicea's water supply depended on a long aqueduct that delivered warm, mineral-heavy water. On a hot summer day, drinking it could make you gag. Their faith is vomit-inducing. It's a shocking indictment for a self-confident church. Compared to other churches, they are successful, prosperous, and competent. In a city famous for its banks, coveted black wool, and a luxurious Phrygian eye-powder, they've made a fortune. Their riches have deceived them, and they no longer see their wretched spiritual condition. I remember when a ministry sent a limo to take me from my home to the airport. For the entire ride, I felt uneasy as the driver addressed me as "sir." As we drove past Emory University, I thought about my campus ministry days, showing up in my Target-brand shorts and shirts to lead Bible studies. The luxury ride could mean I'd made it, but I sensed it was another step away from depending on God. Because these self-made, wealthy believers think they can buy whatever they need, Jesus counsels them to buy from him. He offers gold refined by persecution (to replace the gold stored in banks), white clothes of salvation received by faith (to cover the spiritual nakedness that their high-fashion wool clothing reveals), and ointment that gives spiritual understanding (that no medicinal eye cream can provide). The cost of the purchase is the hardest part of his rebuke. To get what he's selling, they have to admit they are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind, and naked. Instead of walking by the beggars they look down on, the Laodiceans have to become like them. But there's no other way to follow Jesus. He isn't looking for trading partners but friends who will dine at his table. We don't bring our own food to his house; we come hungry and ready to eat. When Wilberforce surrendered to Jesus, he spent the rest of his life using his wealth to fight the powerful slave-trading industry, dying just three days before Parliament voted to end slavery in the British Empire. Come hungry.
Christ is knocking on the door from outside his own church, inviting a church with vomit-inducing faith to come and feast with him. What does this tell us about his love?
What tempts you to think, "I need nothing" (not even God)?
Jesus says he can fulfill all the needs that we try to meet with wealth. What would change if you felt he had met those needs for you?
Invite a trusted friend to get a meal with you. Ask them, "Where do I act like I'm fine without God?" Let them know they can be honest with you.