Tension filled the air as
the diviner and the king faced off. The diviner had not been working
out according to the king's lofty expectations. And the king was
frustrated and furious. Because the king was scared. Balak of Moab
had seen the large and prosperous camp of the children of Israel
parked in his backyard, pitching their tents on his turf. And rather
than send armies on a futile mission – for he'd heard what had
happened to all the other challengers – Balak and his friends, the
five chieftains of Midian – had gotten an idea. What they needed
was to break Israel's invincibility from the other end. And so Balak
had sent messengers to hire him a spiritual hit-man. They'd had to
travel a great distance to Pethor. But they got hold of the famed
diviner and visionary Balaam, son of Beor. With sufficient
inducement, Balaam had been convinced to make the trip, riding his
trusty donkey. But after a frightening encounter he and the donkey
had with a heavenly power along the way, he'd come insisting that he
might not be able to bend Israel's God to his will – might have to
say no more and no less than Israel's God was willing for him to say
(Numbers 22:1-38).
Still, Balak had taken
Balaam to assorted mountain peaks, to view the camp of Israel and
utter curses to bring Israel down. They'd sacrificed at Bamoth-baal,
but Israel's God had refused to be bribed, and Balaam could give no
curse (Numbers 22:41—23:10). They sacrificed atop Mount Pisgah,
but again Balaam's words twisted into a blessing on Israel (Numbers
23:13-24). Balak tried again by taking Balaam elsewhere, to the top
of Peor to make more sacrifices – and Balaam blessed Israel even
more fervently (Numbers 23:27—24:9)! Oh, Balak was furious – he
threatened to rip up the contract, warned Balaam he was forfeiting
his hefty fee (Numbers 24:11). Balaam spoke a fourth oracle, warning
Balak that Israel would indeed produce a star and scepter that could
one day “crush the forehead of Moab”
(Numbers 24:17).
But
Balaam, crafty Balaam, hatched a wicked plan. Sacrifice and bribery
could not sever Israel and her God from one another, but Israel's God
had given them a Law, a Law that called for their faith and
obedience. And if Israel could be induced into breaking that faith
and obedience, surely Israel would be crippled and become easy prey.
So Balaam advised Balak and the chieftains to send beautiful women to
tempt the youthful Israelites with food and sensual delights and
entice them to sacrifice to local gods. Then Balaam left, having
done his work. Balak took it to heart. He sent out the women.
“These invited the people to the sacrifices of their
gods, and the people ate and bowed down to their gods, so Israel
yoked himself to Baal of Peor. And the anger of Yahweh was kindled
against Israel” (Numbers
25:2-3). A disease epidemic began spreading through the camp, and
24,000 Israelites got sick and died. It was all due to the influence
of Balaam's teaching from afar, as Moses learned: “These
women, on Balaam's advice, caused the people of Israel to act
treacherously against Yahweh in the incident of Peor, and so the
plague came among the congregation of Yahweh”
(Numbers 31:16).
In
the end, after Aaron's grandson Phinehas had ended the plague with
his righteous zeal and loyalty (Numbers 25:10), Israel bided their
time, learned more instructions from their God through Moses, whose
age led him to appoint Joshua as his successor. Meanwhile, word came
to Balaam about how successful his dangerous counsel had been.
Yearning for his payment from Balak, he made the long trip back to
Midian – just at the time when Israel declared war. Not only did
Israel bring down the five chieftains, but “they also
killed Balaam the son of Beor with the sword”
(Numbers 31:8). And so ended the sordid career of the gifted diviner
Balaam, whom Israel would forever remember as the prototype of all
false teachers who lead the people astray and invite the wrath of God
against the assembly. In his last speech to Israel, Moses warned
them about prophets, dreamers, and teachers who might entice them to
falsehood, and how they dare not listen to those who teach rebellion
and seek to draw them away from the God who liberated them from
Egyptian chains (Deuteronomy 13:1-18). If a city of Israel were to
give in and be drawn away, the whole city was to be “devoted
to destruction … with the edge of the sword,”
just as Balaam was (Deuteronomy 13:15). Having taught them these
things, Moses climbed up Mount Pisgah, to the very spot where Balaam
had blessed them against his will – and there Moses took his final
breath, still in the desert and not quite reaching the Promised Land
(Deuteronomy 34:1-5).
Over
a thousand years later, the spiritual heirs of the children of Israel
found themselves living in a desert of a city called Pergamum. And
Pergamum might seem like an odd place to compare to the plains of
Moab. It was a northerly city in Asia Minor, and a prosperous and
populous one – a fifth of a million people, or thereabouts, and it
had massive temples, a truly impressive library (among the largest in
the world), a grand theater, lavish healthcare facilities with a
great spa, and more. And a church, meeting in the homes of
believers, was nestled in the neighborhoods of that big city. No
city could seem less, geographically, like the desert plains of Moab.
And
yet it was a lot like the plains of Moab. For that city had a deep
devotion to the serpent-loving Greek god of healing, Asklepios –
the spa was his. And that city had a great fervor for Zeus, to whom
they built a gargantuan altar shaped like a giant throne. The people
of Pergamum called both those gods their 'saviors.' Not only that,
but with temples to the emperors, Pergamum was the city from which
conformity with the imperial cult was enforced. It was the
headquarters of official government worship for the province. There
was a fair deal of pressure, from time to time, just as Balak had
sought to put pressure on Israel. Pergamum hosted civic dinners
where the gods would receive sacrifice. And the church had learned
the painful way what can happen to dissenters – they'd watched a
believer named Antipas put to death one dark day for his faithful
witness.
So
when Jesus dictates a letter to the church in Pergamum, he gives
credit where credit is due. Jesus is fully appreciative of their
difficult position, right in the heart of paganism, with that massive
altar looming over them on a regular basis, with the pressure and the
threat and the memory of Antipas' death ever-present to the church as
they meet. Jesus tells the Pergamene church that they “dwell
where Satan's throne is.”
They might as well be pitched within the doorway to hell, plunged in
darkness. Because that's how pernicious the imperial cult and the
other pagan cults are. And somehow, this little church is getting by
right under Satan's nose, and it is not easy. “Yet you
hold fast my name,” Jesus
tells them, “and you did not deny my faith even in the
days of Antipas my faithful witness, who was killed among you where
Satan dwells” (Revelation
2:13). With all the suspicion attached to the word 'Christian,' a
partisan of the Messiah Jesus, still the Pergamene church clings to
that word and the name of Jesus. They have not outright denied him,
even when the pressure was really on. That much is good. The church
there is capable of producing daring faithfulness. And that
shouldn't be overlooked. Jesus is ready to commend us just for being
willing to openly identify with him when the world denounces his
name.
So
the Pergamene church gets extra credit for a simple thing –
clinging to Jesus' name – because they've started at such a
disadvantage due to their proximity to the heart of pagan worship,
which Jesus calls “Satan's throne.”
The church has continued to identify themselves with Christ's name,
even when that was deeply unpopular with their neighbors. To us
here, that poses no threat. It might not be particularly
commendable. Because we aren't dwelling where Satan sets up his
throne. But in extraordinary circumstances, even the most basic
expressions of faith become exemplary in Jesus' sight. Credit where
credit is due, and the disadvantage is taken into account when Jesus
evaluates the churches. Jesus takes into account our circumstances.
He knows where we dwell.
But
for all that, Jesus is not happy with the church in Pergamum. The
Pergamene church has a problem that has to be faced and owned. And
that problem is a lot like Israel's in the plains of Moab. Remember,
Balak knew better than to send his army to fight a faithful Israel
from the outside through external pressures. Now Satan has relearned
that lesson as applied to the Pergamene church: just sending the
power of the state to fight them might not break them after all. But
just like Balak hired a spiritual hit-man, now Satan is turning to
that approach in Pergamum, too. Satan has introduced false teachers
like Balaam to corrupt the church from the inside by letting their
beliefs get mingled and mangled. The result will be a hamstrung
church out-of-sync with their Savior.
Jesus
says outright to the Pergamene church, “You have some
there who hold to the teaching of Balaam, who taught Balak to put a
stumbling block before the sons of Israel, so that they might eat
food sacrificed to idols and practice sexual immorality. So also you
have some who hold the teaching of the Nicolaitans”
(Revelation 2:14-15). The Nicolaitans are the group whose misleading
ideas are beginning to infect the Pergamene church. Most likely,
they argued that, since idols are really powerless, there's no harm
with making some empty gestures in their direction, mouthing the
sentiments of the pagans as long as you don't really mean it. And in
that way, they'd have more flexibility when confronted with the
demands of the imperial cult. They may have had more ideas than
that, but that's one key thing they seem to have been teaching.
Essentially,
the Nicolaitans were introducing an alternative teaching into the
church, a more liberal-minded take on Christianity. They illustrated
to the people how they could rationalize holding more loosely to this
belief or that belief. They went soft on certain things. They
scoffed at those who clung to the fundamentals. Certainly they
badmouthed the Ephesian church, which had tested them and kicked them
to the curb (Revelation 2:6). So they crept into the Pergamene
church and gained a hearing. They did not sway the entire church.
Jesus merely says that “some there … hold the teaching
of the Nicolaitans”
(Revelation 2:15). Just like some Israelites on the plains of Moab
caught the plague. Its end is death. And it's infectious. And the
problem is, the church in Pergamum has not been awake to the extreme
action necessary, a la Phinehas,
to put a halt to its spread. Jesus, through John, compares the
Nicolaitans to Balaam, that earlier false teacher (Revelation 2:14).
The church in Pergamum didn't view the Nicolaitans as worth making a
fuss about. Jesus strongly disagrees. Pointing back to Balaam, he
says the Nicolaitans and all other false teachers are just as
dangerous and just as deadly. And the Pergamene church needs a
Phinehas, needs to be
a Phinehas. They need to stand up and publicly denounce the false
teaching. Jesus calls on the church to “repent”
(Revelation 2:16) – to repent as Phinehas led Israel to repent in
the plains of Moab. Yet, no doubt, many 'right-thinking' Christians
in Pergamum don't see the crisis.
Maybe
that's where we find ourselves. We know – or we should know –
the gospel. Before the beginning, God existed eternally, a Trinity
of three persons we know as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, all sharing
the life of the one true God. For his overflowing love, God created
a good world and crowned it with his representatives on earth, human
beings, who were made in his image to reflect his authority and
character in the world. But due to the intrusion of a fallen spirit,
human beings began missing the mark, sinning, failing to reflect God.
Soon our world had spiraled out of control. But God had planned all
along to bless the world, so he chose the family of Abraham, which
produced the nation of Israel. God rescued them from their slavery
and appointed them to be his nation of blessing. But as we know,
they were infected with the same darkness as the other nations, and
the Law given through Moses could not dispel their darkness. So God
worked with them, and with a faithful remnant within them, until the
burden of their mission fell to one man, the Messiah, to carry the
weight of Adam's work and Israel's purpose. God sent his own
co-eternal Son to be the Messiah, taking the name Jesus. He taught
truly, he worked wonders, he began to restore God's kingdom to the
earth. To drain our sins away, he died on the cross, allowing all
those who trust him to be united to him and have our sins flow into
his death. He buried the power of sin in his grave and left it
behind when he rose bodily from the dead on the third day, thus
breaking the power of death. He then rose to heaven, from which he
poured out the Holy Spirit, the third co-eternal person of the
Trinity, to dwell in the church like a temple and fill us with the
power we need to reflect God like Adam should have. Jesus pledged
that he would one day return to bring the mission to completion,
fully restoring God's kingdom to the earth. In the meantime, with
Jesus as the Lord of everything, we are sent out to announce the good
news of his accession, and to teach the nations how to be filled with
his power and live according to this Savior's royal wisdom. Jesus'
first followers wrote all these things down, just as Israel's
prophets had, and together they form a book against which we test all
our beliefs and practices, because in this book, the Bible, the
wisdom of Jesus shines forth. Relying on this wisdom, we announce to
the nations that there's no one else: that Jesus our Lord is the only
Savior and only King, that Jesus is good news for everyone and everything.
We
know that gospel. But we also know that there are entire
denominations in our country where it's rejected and denied. We
know, sadly, that there are denominations where Balaam has won.
Because there are churches in this country, even entire networks of
churches, that deviate from the gospel far more seriously than even
the Nicolaitans of Pergamum did. They may mouth the words to all the
creeds. They may insist they keep to the faith, like the Christians
in Pergamum did. They may cling to the name of Jesus, however
tenuously. But when it comes to really accepting the implications of
that confession, they twist it, privileging their experiences and
opinions above the authority of Jesus as taught through his prophets
and apostles. I'm sure one or two of those denominations has
occurred to your mind as I've said this. Maybe some of you have been
to 'liberal-minded' churches, or churches embedded in denominations
like that. They may seem innocuous. So did the Nicolaitans. But
Jesus calls down from heaven, “Don't be fooled – remember Balaam!
Don't be fooled – believe the whole gospel, and live it!” Many
of those denominations are in far worse shape than Pergamum.
Yet
it would be too easy to point the finger at the more 'liberal-minded'
denominations in our country and say, “There's the problem, over
there.” Oh, it is, to be sure. Those professedly 'liberal-minded'
denominations and congregations do stand under Jesus' warning in this
passage. But as easy as it'd be to outsource the problem to those
denominations and those movements, well, we can't. Because the
problem comes home with us, too, to the Evangelical movement – that
bastion of self-described “Bible-believing Christians.”
Five
years ago, a reputable survey assessed the religious landscape of
this country, and though they weren't too focused on singling out
Evangelicals, they did turn up two troubling things. What they found
was that 12% of Evangelical Christians could not honestly say that
they believed that heaven is real. In fact, 5% of Evangelical
Christians outright said they don't believe there's a heaven. That's
one in twenty of people like us who outright reject heaven, and
another one who isn't sure. The same survey found the figures even
worse when it comes to hell – 11% of Evangelicals, eleven out of
every hundred filling the pews of churches like ours, said they are
very sure
there's no such thing as hell, and another 7% said they weren't sure.
As plainly as Jesus taught about heaven and hell, a significant
minority even of Evangelicals were expressing doubt or disbelief.
Those
troubling figures came out five years ago, in 2014. So surely we
took them to heart, right? Surely our good, God-fearing churches in
the Evangelical movement started prioritizing sound teaching, and
making sure to insist on it? Well, a study came out last year after
asking even more questions. And here's what it found. Remember that
the gospel is rooted in God's eternal love within the life of the
Trinity. Yet 4% of Evangelicals outright reject the doctrine of the
Trinity, and another 3% aren't sure. That's 7%. In fact, a whopping
71% of Evangelicals are so confused that they think Jesus is a
created being, rather than the eternal Creator God! That is a
majority of Evangelicals, having scarcely a clue who Jesus even is.
A similarly whopping 59% said they do not believe that the Holy
Spirit is a person, and another 8% on top of that said they weren't
sure. Moreover, 5% of Evangelicals – one out of every twenty –
could not honestly say they believed that Jesus had risen bodily from
the dead. The very thing that Paul said, if it didn't happen, then
Christians are the dumbest, most foolish people who've ever lived –
and one in every twenty Evangelicals is not solid on that bedrock
cornerstone of the Christian faith! The same percentage, by the way,
openly deny that Jesus is ever coming back, and an extra 3% aren't
sure if he is or not. That's almost one in every ten Evangelicals
with no hope in the Second Coming.
This
survey found that a majority of Evangelicals – 57% – do not
believe that sin is serious enough to send us to hell – or, at
least, that so-called 'small sins' aren't so bad. Friends, that is
catastrophic. We know that falling short of God's glory is just that
– falling short of light and life. But the majority of Evangelical
Christians do not take sin seriously enough. So it's no wonder that
a substantial proportion – 12%, again more than one in every ten –
believe that “the free gift of eternal salvation” can be gained
without having faith in Jesus Christ, and 10% say that Jesus didn't
have to die on the cross for us to be saved. All that stuff about
the Way, the Truth, the Life, and how no one comes to the Father
except through him? A tenth of Evangelical Christians think Jesus
didn't know what he was talking about, apparently. More shocking,
37% – over a third of Evangelicals – said that “religious
belief is a matter of personal opinion..., not about objective
truth.” An extra 8% weren't sure. And 53% – over half of
Evangelical Christians like us – said that “God accepts the
worship of all religions.”
The
survey found that 8% of Evangelicals admit the Bible is not the
highest authority for what they believe, and 12% of Evangelicals
outright rejected the statement that “the Bible has the authority
to tell us what we must do” – that's more than a tenth of
Evangelicals denying the authority of God over their lives!
Unsurprising, when a full quarter of Evangelicals are at least open
to the idea that the Holy Spirit will tell them to do something that
goes against the Bible's teaching. So, naturally, 15% of
Evangelicals think there's nothing sinful in abortion, while another
5% aren't sure, adding up to one in every five. Naturally, 17% of
Evangelicals see nothing sinful in sex outside of marriage, while
another 4% aren't sure – that adds up to 23%, more than one in
every five. And then 16% of Evangelicals said they do not believe
that evangelism is personally important for them to do – in spite
of Evangelicals supposedly being so passionate about the Great
Commission, almost one in every five Evangelicals does not think
Jesus was talking to them. Finally, 46% of Evangelicals said they do
not think the church is necessary, and since another 4% said they
were unsure, that adds up to one out of every two
Evangelicals in the country who think they can worship Jesus while
living cut off from his Body wherein dwells his Spirit – worship
Jesus while rebelling against his command. Statistics like these are
crisis figures!
Now,
count up how many of us Evangelical Christians are here this morning.
Note how many of these crisis conditions apply to one in two, three,
four, five, ten, twenty Evangelicals in America. If there are more
than ten or twenty of us here, then either we're beating the
statistical norm here, or else some of us
may be off-track from the gospel, too. The crisis is not just for
'liberal-minded' mainline denominations – we Evangelicals are
finding ourselves in the same crisis as Pergamum. And we won't even
have the excuse that Satan's throne is so close we couldn't focus!
No, Balaam has a foothold in Evangelical Christianity, and just like
the church in Pergamum, we yawn and shrug and say it's no big deal.
But then Jesus turns to us and says we are dead wrong – deadly.
Jesus
says to us, as much as to Pergamum: “Therefore, repent”
(Revelation 2:16). He isn't just talking to the minority in the
Pergamene church who've actually accepted the Nicolaitan teaching.
He's talking to the whole church there. The entire church needs to
repent for the false beliefs of a few of them. And maybe they can do
that by recommitting themselves to sound teaching, and by correcting
those who've fallen for the Nicolaitans, and bringing them back to
the truth that way. Or maybe their repentance is going to involve
church discipline, where the seduced and deluded members who've
fallen for Balaam's tricks are written off the membership rolls after
all warnings fail, and so the church will be purified in its faith
either way, newly zealous for the gospel.
But
if the infection spreads, the whole church is in great danger. John
shows the Pergamene church a Jesus who comes with a sword at the
ready – a broadsword, the sword you'll see William Wallace swinging
in Braveheart (Revelation
2:12). This is a no-nonsense Judge Jesus, ready to split souls. And
just like Balaam had to be struck down by Israel with the sword, and
just like any Israelite city that goes astray after false teaching
was to be destroyed with the sword, so Jesus warns them that if this
church doesn't repent, “I will come to you soon and wage
war against them with the sword of my mouth”
(Revelation 2:16). Jesus looks at the confused state of Pergamene
Christianity and says that if no one else will be a Phinehas, he'll
come do it himself, and it won't be gentle, and it won't be pretty. What might Jesus say,
then, to those proud 'liberal-minded' churches – but oh, what might
Jesus say to the Evangelical churches of America today? In our own
deep crisis of confusion, what room have we
to boast?
But
Jesus also comes with promises for those who “overcome”
or “conquer.”
In this context, to overcome is to resist and rebuke false teaching,
to work to ensure that everyone in the church is on board with the
whole gospel and its implications, to reduce those crisis figures
down to 0% as far as is in our reach, and to certainly make sure that
we ourselves are not part of that problem. And to those who overcome
this way, Jesus promises the blessings that Israel was to have for
staying faithful: “To the one who overcomes, I will give
some of the hidden manna, and I will give him a white stone, with a
new name written on the stone that no one knows except the one who
receives it” (Revelation
2:17). Some of the manna Israel ate in the plains of Moab was stored
in a jar, 'hidden'
away in the ark, saved for the righteous (cf. Exodus 16:33; Hebrews
9:4). A 'white stone'
was used as a vote of acquittal in a courtroom and as a token of
admission to a dinner party. And God always promised that Israel
would be “called by a new name that
the mouth of the LORD will give”
(Isaiah 62:2) – a name like “My-Delight-is-in-Her”
(Isaiah 62:4). If we are faithful to Jesus with what we believe,
then he delights in us; if we're careless about what we believe, then
we run the risk of a declaration of war. On the one hand, food and
fellowship and acceptance with Christ; on the other, excommunication
with the sword of his mouth.
That's
the choice that faces Christianity, in America as much as Pergamum.
And it doesn't only
face the 'liberal-minded' churches we love to posture against. It
faces the Evangelical Christian movement, of which our own
denomination is a part, of which our own church is a part. The
choice is before us: keep ignoring the crisis, or else repent from
our all-too-Pergamene situation. But the path of repentance is the
only one that leads to food and fellowship and acceptance with
Christ, riches more dear than we can fathom, treasures that will far
outweigh all the pressures that Satan's throne could ever set up
against us. And this path of repentance calls us to become fully and
robustly Christian in what we believe, always subject to the ultimate
test of the scriptures and the historic wisdom of the church. It
calls us to drive the crisis figures down to 0%. As he called
Pergamum to, let's repent and strive instead for hidden manna and a
new name, that God's delight may be in us and that we may be filled
with all the blessings of his gospel. May we not only bear the name,
but may we live it in our minds, our hearts, and our hands! For
Christ calls us beyond his sword to the garden wherein grows his tree of life. Amen.
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