NOTES for Rev 3:14-22

Today we read the message to the church in Laodicea, which has become perhaps one of the best-known passages in the Apocalypse. Neither cold nor hot—this is how our inner state can be described throughout almost our entire life. We give ourselves wholeheartedly to nothing; we are neither evil nor good; we neither love God nor struggle against Him. This is precisely why it is practically impossible to build a close relationship with us. Someone who hates, such as Paul, can be met on the road to Damascus and asked, “It is hard for you to kick against the goads, is it not?” But someone who is indifferent will not be found on that road. And the Lord warns us that indifference, lukewarmness, and unwillingness to seek the Truth lead to a state in which an indifferent person cannot remain where God is. A meeting is impossible if we do not strive toward it.

For His part, the Lord does not abandon us and continually calls us to Himself. Unlike the beginning of the chapter, where He opens the doors to the world for us, here He Himself stands at a closed door, which we may choose not to open. But we may also open it.

At first glance, these words are excessively harsh: the Lord, in essence, completely rejects an entire community. And the reason for this rejection is a sin that, it would seem, leads to no especially terrible consequences: the issue is indifference, those who are called "lukewarm," who perhaps would not mind doing something for the church, or for a neighbor, or at least for deepening their own spiritual life, but whose desire for action is too weak to be realized. And the person, as people usually say, "basically not bad," remains inactive, having done nothing good. It would seem that such a person does nothing bad either. Everything is indifferent to him: both good and evil. Often such indifference is connected with self-satisfaction, which gives rise to a feeling of one's own wealth, not necessarily material wealth. And yet such "harmless" self-satisfied indifference received from the Savior's mouth the harshest assessment. The issue, as can be seen, is not only that, as people sometimes say, on the day of Judgment each of us will be asked not only about the evil we did, but also about the good we did not do though we could have done it. The issue is also that self-satisfied indifference completely paralyzes the will, taking from a person the spiritual strength that allows him to make a vital choice, including the choice between good and evil. And such paralysis, in turn, effectively deprives the indifferent person of the possibility of living a spiritual life.

It would seem that there are sins far more terrible than lack of will. But any sin, even the most terrible, presupposes choice, resolve, and action, behind which will necessarily stands, often a very strong will, which can always also be used for works of righteousness if only it is directed correctly. But self-satisfied indifference is a sign of the absence of will, in which even conversion is impossible: conversion too presupposes a choice, a choice between God and something that hinders following Him. If there is nothing with which to choose, then conversion is impossible, it is impossible to follow Christ, impossible to live the life of the Kingdom. Only one thing is possible: to drift with the current where the world corrupted by sin is moving. In the direction opposite to the Kingdom.

Where does the history of the Kingdom begin? With the coming of the Messiah, who brought it into the world? Yes, of course. But that is for the world. And for us? According to the Savior's word, the Kingdom is "within us" and "among us" (both the original Greek expression and the corresponding Aramaic expression allow both translations). Then there is only one place where the history of the Kingdom can begin for us: our heart.

What is the Kingdom? New life? Yes, of course. A world renewed and transfigured by the breath of God? Without doubt; the day will come when the Kingdom is revealed in all its fullness, and then everyone will see it. And yet, first of all, the Kingdom is perhaps those relationships that bind us to God, to Christ, and to our neighbors, because without them, without these relationships, there will be neither new life nor a new world. And relationships cannot be imposed; they can only be offered.

Even God cannot force a person to love Him. One can impose one's presence on another if one is stronger and has enough power to do so. If God, or the Messiah sent by Him, wanted that, a person would have nowhere to go. But God does not need anything of the kind, and Christ does not need it either: He came not to demonstrate power, but to save us from the sin in which the world lies and in which we ourselves lie. What is needed here is love, which cannot be imposed and can only be offered. And so the Savior knocks at our heart in the hope that we will open to Him. That we will open, so that the history of the Kingdom may begin for us as well.

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.