Jeffrey Johnson writes:
Finding a Church
The Son: “Dad, why do we keep moving from one church to another? Just when I was making friends at the church in Ephesus, we moved to Smyrna, then to Pergamum, then to Thyatira, then to Sardis, and then to Philadelphia. I really loved that church. And now we’re leaving the church in Laodicea? I just wish we could settle down and remain part of a church family.”
The Father: “Son,” the wise father replied, “the church is not what it used to be. When I was your age, the apostles were still alive and overseeing the churches. Now only one apostle remains—John—and there isn’t much he can do, for he is imprisoned on the island of Patmos. But when I was young, the apostolic church was vibrant and full of life. I remember when the believers were fully devoted to the apostles’ teaching and to breaking bread together. Back then, no one lacked anything because they took care of their own. Those were the good old days.”
The Son: “But I thought you and Mom really liked the church in Ephesus. Didn’t you agree with its doctrine? And unlike the other churches, it takes personal holiness seriously and practices church discipline.”
The Father: “All those things are true, and they are very important to your mother and me. We didn’t leave because of those things. It had all the marks of a healthy church without being healthy. We left because the church had left its first love. There was something missing—something very important. Sometimes, my dear son, a person can do everything right on the outside and still be missing something vital on the inside. Though your mother and I couldn’t quite put our finger on it, we both agreed that we could not remain in such a church.”
The Son: “So that’s why we left Ephesus. But what about Smyrna? I thought that church was one of the best we had ever attended.”
The Father: “In many ways, it was. But, son, your mother and I couldn’t stay there. We were too concerned for your safety. We learned that the authorities were watching the pastors and even some members of the congregation. The church was too provocative, and the preacher couldn’t leave controversial topics alone. It was no longer safe for us to stay.”
The Son: “Then why didn’t we stay in Pergamum?”
The Father: “At first, we really enjoyed the more relaxed atmosphere. Coming from Smyrna, it was refreshing. Yet, in time, it became evident that the atmosphere was a bit too relaxed. There were no safeguards over the teaching ministry. There was no way your mother and I could remain in a church where false teaching was welcomed.”
The Son: “And Thyatira?”
The father sighed deeply.
The Father: “Thyatira was a difficult place. There were many loving and devoted believers there. In fact, their works of service were increasing. But it seemed that the more the church sought to impact the world, the more the world impacted the church. There was little accountability and no real church discipline.”
The Son: “I never understood why we left Sardis. Wasn’t it a growing and thriving church?”
The Father: “Yes, the church was growing, but it was hard for your mother and me to find true spiritual fellowship. We stayed as long as we could, but in the end, it became evident that we needed to leave, even if it meant moving again.”
The son walked quietly for a moment.
The Son: “Philadelphia was my favorite.”
The father smiled.
The Father: “Yes, but just as Sardis was too big, Philadelphia was too small. There were no special programs for the youth, and for years the church had hardly grown at all. We simply didn’t feel that we could get plugged in there.”
The Son: “Then why are we leaving Laodicea?”
The father paused before answering.
The Father: “To be honest, son, your mother and I can’t tell whether it is cold or hot. At times it seems zealous, but for the most part it appears content to remain lukewarm.”
The son looked at his father thoughtfully.
The Son: “Dad, do you think the church will ever get back to the good old days? Do you think we’ll ever be able to settle down and remain faithful to one church? Do you think there will ever be a church that you and Mom are completely happy with? Will there ever be a church without sin to overcome or tribulation to endure?”
The Father: The old man was silent for a moment.
“Maybe not in our lifetime, son. But I’m sure that 2,000 years from now, things will be different.”
The Son: “Dad, until then, don’t you think it’s better to remain faithful to an imperfect church—one that Christ continues to speak to, rebuke, and correct—than to forsake the local assembly altogether?”
The Father: The old man smiled.
“My boy, shouldn’t you be fetching some fresh water for your mother so she can get dinner started?”