NOTES for Rev 3:7-13

The church of Philadelphia, as we can see, received praise from Jesus, which does not happen often. Here too the conflict between the local church and the local synagogue, traditional for this era, the late 80s or early 90s of the first century, is clearly present. The conflict was connected with the changed overall situation: after the catastrophe of the year 70, after the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple, the Church and the Synagogue were no longer connected by anything except their shared past.

Earlier the Jews had looked at the Church as part of the Synagogue, though in the eyes of many a rather strange, unorthodox part, permeated by some incomprehensible and, as some thought, absurd messianism. Still, it was viewed as part of the Synagogue and therefore as part of the Jewish people, the people of God. Now Christians were beginning to be viewed as outsiders who had no relation to this people at all. Of course, there was much here of the kind of religiosity that demands unity of views, concepts, and external forms. After the catastrophe of the year 70, many recoiled from messianism in general and from various movements that appeared doubtful, including messianic movements.

One can say that the Synagogue at this time was becoming more orthodox, and in its orthodoxy harsher toward those whom it had earlier been inclined to treat with tolerance. Of course, not everyone shared such views then, but many did. These people were ready to cut off everyone who did not match their ideas of what synagogue life should be. They were the ones who came out especially sharply against Christians, and all the more sharply because Christians were opening the doors wide to former Gentiles, which was already completely unacceptable for religious orthodox believers.

But, according to the Savior's words, the door to heaven is open for Christians, and no religious orthodox believers can close it. Moreover, here again we hear a mention of the new name and of those columns, or pillars, that supported the roof of the Jerusalem Temple. The point is the goal toward which every Christian strives: to enter the Kingdom, having been transformed and having become one of its spiritual supports. Indeed, a new name presupposes essential changes in the person himself, the renewal of his life and of his very nature.

For full life in the Kingdom, such renewal is absolutely necessary; otherwise this life becomes simply impossible. On the other hand, everyone who becomes an inhabitant of the Kingdom also becomes its support. After all, the Kingdom exists as a complex system of interactions among its inhabitants, as a structure of relationships binding those who dwell in the Kingdom. It is founded on the relationships that unite the Father with the Son, but all the others who live in it also add their own stone to this foundation. That is why each person is so important to the Kingdom: if he is truly an inhabitant of the Kingdom, he is not just a guest, but also a builder who is building up the Kingdom and its life.

Jesus says directly that the Christians of the Philadelphian church will have to acknowledge their own defeat. Yet He promises to protect them from the trials that will come in their time, when that time arrives. At first glance, such a promise looks somewhat strange: during His earthly ministry Jesus had already warned His disciples and followers that persecutions and harassment are inevitable, that they are connected with the very essence of the Kingdom, which inevitably comes into conflict with the untransfigured world that does not accept it and is hostile to it. And yet, as can be seen, the situation is not so unambiguous: persecutions differ from persecutions, and the measure of damage they cause can vary.

It is possible that in this case the point is that during persecutions, when many other churches disappear, the Philadelphian church will be preserved. And the issue here is not some privileges received for special merits. The issue is the spiritual state of the community, which determines its fate. It is entirely obvious that God can preserve any of His churches if only this is His will. But it is just as obvious that preserving a community makes sense only if its very existence is a testimony, that testimony to the life of the Kingdom which the existence of the Church as a whole and of each particular church community should be. But unfortunately, for that historical church to which the Savior addresses Himself through His apostle, such existence turns out to be a difficult-to-reach ideal, and far from every church corresponds to it. The goal and meaning of a church community's existence cannot be survival, spiritual or physical, but testimony, and only testimony. Then God will give His faithful the possibility of being witnesses of the Kingdom that the Messiah sent by Him brought into the world.

It is frightening... but how important it is for us. The Lord looks into our eyes and sees the heart. And He says everything He sees. How we would like to hear something life-affirming from Him, something like, “Well done, you are doing everything right; keep it up.” But He tells the truth. “You are neither cold nor hot.” “You are dead.” God, can it really be that You do not love me? But He says that this is not so at all. “Those whom I love, I rebuke and discipline.” And it is obvious. Can a loving gaze pretend that the beloved is perfectly well when in fact that person is dying—or has already died? God opens our eyes. Yes, what we see in the mirror of His eyes is frightening. But only the truth gives us a chance to change something, to come alive, to move forward, to be living and ardent rather than half-dead and lukewarm.