Willing to Die for Christ (Revelation 2:12–17)

Stories of those who die for others or who give themselves for a great cause are among the most moving narratives we encounter. There is something compelling and beautiful about the willingness of a person to sacrifice their own life for another, for something greater. One of our most basic instincts as humans is the avoidance of suffering and the desire to preserve our own lives. When a person is able to override these fundamental human instincts, there must be something of incredible value, something of great worth that makes the trade of their own life worthwhile—a compelling love.

Every selfless hero ultimately points to the Lord Jesus Christ, who went to the cross in spite of the suffering that he so accurately anticipated. As he kneels in the garden of Gethsemane, the Scriptures say he is in such anguish that his sweat was like great drops of blood, praying earnestly that somehow he might be spared this personal travail. Yet he went to the cross willingly. He gave his life for his people willingly. This was not a man who had no will to live, not a man who had given up. He was not taking the easy way out.

Such selfless love cannot be overlooked. Such a sacrifice is always worthy of admiration, but when Jesus gave his life for his people whilst we were still enemies, he did so as the sinless Son of God—one who was not destined to die. The Son of God had no need to leave his glory with his Father in eternity, to subject himself as a creature and take on human flesh. He had no need to prove himself to the Father, no need to test his righteousness, no need to come and be just one among many of the rebellious creatures who do not even know their right hand from their left.

He was not a man doomed to be born into a sin-cursed, fallen world and called to live in obedience to God in spite of brokenness from the womb, for he had no brokenness. He came willingly. And he did so in order to ransom a people for himself, to redeem a bride, the church. He came with the express purpose to die, and he never wavered in his love. He never faltered, never backed out, never regretted his passion.

Jesus came as the only one in all of reality who would be able to redeem sinners. He came to people without hope, condemned to misery, suffering, and ultimately to death—separation from their Creator. He came to dead men and dead women, those created in the image of God, the author of life, but who through their own sin and folly had made themselves partakers of death. Jesus came as the only hope for ruined wretches like you and me.

Can you hear of such a love and yawn? Can you hear of such a love and shrug your shoulders and walk away? Can you hear that you are a sinner in need of a Saviour, and that such a Saviour not only exists, but he in fact came and has done all it took to rescue you? Though he had no need, nevertheless he came. Nevertheless, he loved his people enough to come and walk in your shoes, to live a life of perfect righteousness and then bear away the sin of his people as he suffered the just wrath of God on their behalf.

Can you hear of such a love, such a life, such a sacrifice, and harden your heart? Will you refuse to hear? Will you refuse to turn, to repent?

The church in Pergamum, though deeply flawed, at least saw and valued their Saviour. The church at Pergamum recognised this pearl of great price, and they would not let go of him, even though their lives were under great threats of persecution. May we, as we consider their example, be persuaded to hold fast to this name and not let go—not now, not ever.

As with the letter to the church at Ephesus, we consider the church at Pergamum over two parts. First, we look at Jesus’ words of commendation, and then later we shall look at his words of correction.

Some of the churches in these early chapters of Revelation received only rebuke. Some churches received only commendation and encouragement. But there are some churches with whom we can surely identify—churches who receive both commendation from Christ and some correction. They were doing some things right, but not everything. They were fundamentally faithful, but at times inconsistent and perhaps a little hypocritical. They were works in progress, just as we are works in progress.

The church at Pergamum was just such a church. They had deep flaws, flaws which threatened to bring great trouble upon them, and ultimately, sadly, did result in the church disappearing. And yet, they receive a gracious commendation.

Let us take a moment to recognise the kindness and gentleness of our Saviour, who not only rebukes the church for their failure, but encourages them and commends them for their faithfulness. But remember: what was the source of their faithfulness in the first place? This was a faithfulness owing entirely to his work and his grace in their lives. A faithfulness that was only possible through his saving work and through his Spirit sent to comfort and help them. And yet our Lord commends the church at Pergamum for their faithfulness.

After all Jesus has done for us who believe, surely the very least that we can do is live lives of gratitude and faithfulness. That is the minimum. Yet our Lord—he knows us. He knows how weak we are. He knows how we live in the midst of an unbelieving and hostile world. He knows that we are but dust. And he commends the church at Pergamum for that which he has worked in them.

We do not serve an angry schoolmaster. We do not serve one who is difficult to please, one who is impossible to impress. We do not serve a god reluctant to forgo wrath against us. We serve a gracious, kind, benevolent Father. We serve a king who himself has come and lived our lives. He has walked in our shoes. He has experienced temptation in our position. He has been treated unfairly. He has felt the pressure to conform. He knows us. And he is rooting for us.

He is not there to strike us each time we fall. He is not there counting how many times we have failed him. He is there with an arm around us, helping us, encouraging us, helping us to keep running the race. He is binding our wounds. He is encouraging us. Yes, sometimes he sends great hardships and afflictions into our lives. He allows us to feel the consequences of our sin, but he does this to shape us and shepherd us, to help us to grow in his image. But he is not delighting in our weakness.

The question is: will we do the same? Are we looking for opportunities to recognise and encourage one another for the evidences of grace that are visible? Parents, are you looking for opportunities to commend your children for their exhibition of godly attitudes and godly behaviour? It is all too easy for us to take the view that they should be doing that anyway, that it is the bare minimum. Why should we encourage or commend them for doing what is expected? But Jesus did it.

Wives, are you showing your husband respect and thanking him for his hard work and provision, commending him for the ways in which he cares well for your family? Or are you so focussed on his shortcomings that you are scared to commend him lest he rest on his laurels? Husbands, are you loving your wives? Are you commending her for her beauty, for her sacrificial care of you and the household? Are you appreciative of her nourishment and her acts of love, or are you just dumbly taking it all for granted?

Let us leave the sanctification of one another up to God. And instead, let us remember our own gracious pardon and encourage one another and build each other up, just as we see Christ here doing with these churches.

Who is it that speaks to the church? It is “him who has the sharp two-edged sword”. This is plainly a reference to Christ, because in chapter 1, verse 16, Christ is described as having a sharp two-edged sword which came from his mouth. The sword is used in Scripture generally to represent authority, decisive authority, decisive judgement. I think with that image, the Spirit is warning the church that they ought to give great weight to these words of Christ.

But another reason that Jesus is presented here, just before the commendation, as one who has a double-edged sword, is because his decisive judgement and authority, whilst active to purify the church, has as its main focus those who would oppose and persecute the church.

We are reminded that we serve not a Saviour way up there who has nothing to do with us. He is not a Saviour waiting for his opportunity to take authority. No, we serve a risen Saviour. We serve one who is at the right hand of the Father right now and is right now ruling and reigning. He will judge the world fully and finally on a day which he has appointed, but nevertheless, he is judging the world right here and right now. He does mete out justice even today.

This church was facing some intense persecution. Here they are reminded that not only is Christ for them, but he is a powerful ally. He is one who will not stand impotent against his enemies. But just as we ought to fear the one who has a two-edged sword for a tongue, so too we ought to take the gracious words which come from his mouth with much greater significance and comfort.

These words of gracious commendation came to those who were living in a hostile habitation. Look at verse 13. He says that he knows that they dwell in a very difficult area, a region that was hostile to the church, hostile to righteousness.

The city of Pergamum (or Pergamos) was a very important city, situated about 90 kilometres north of the city of Smyrna. It was the Roman capital city of Asia Minor at the time, and it boasted many religious temples—temples to deities such as Zeus, Athena, Minerva, Apollo, and Asclepius. Many scholars believe that this reference to “the throne of Satan” was actually because of an altar in Pergamum, called the Pergamum altar, which resembled a giant throne. He speaks again of those who dwell “where Satan is”. Being a Roman city, Caesar worship was rife there too.

This place was a place of great spiritual darkness, where Christians would have come under intense opposition and persecution, precisely because of their message that Jesus is the only way to God. They would have come under intense persecution for saying that Jesus, and not Caesar, is Lord. And Jesus yet commends them for standing firm in their faith under these circumstances, not giving in by towing the line verbally whilst denying his name.

The church at Pergamum had a tenacious testimony. The church was living such that the world around them was uncomfortable in their sin. And Jesus commends them for that. No doubt they were bold to call out the sin in the society around them. In fact, they had done enough that a man called Antipas had actually been killed.

What a commendable, admirable character Antipas was. How blessed it would be to be counted amongst those who are faithful in the midst of trial. We have a Saviour who is faithful even when we are faithless. As we see in the case of Peter, we see Peter’s anguish when he realises that he has denied Christ just when it mattered most, as Jesus had predicted. But how much better it would be for us to be like Antipas, who stood firm when it mattered, who remembered that this life is just a vapour, who loved not his life even unto death, one of whom the world was not worthy.

Is not such a persevering faith beautiful? Is not a man or woman who commits themselves by the power of God to remain steadfast in the face of great danger and opposition an awesome testimony to the power and glory of Christ? Who else could affect such virtue in the life of a mere man? Who else could cause a man of dust to stand with legs of steel? Who else could so transform a life that even the natural fear of death would pale into insignificance beside an unwavering allegiance? Who but Jesus?

What a glorious testimony Antipas has. Oh, that the Lord would raise up a million Antipases, such that in our day the world would have to sit up and take notice.

We see something of how the Lord used Antipas’ testimony amongst the church at Pergamum. They were strengthened, and as a result, they too stood firm and remained faithful and did not deny the name of Christ even under threat of death.

But would you? Would you stand firm? Would you remain faithful under threat of torture and death? Praise God, God does give strength to those who ask him in their moment of trial. But we cannot be naive. We cannot be simplistic. You will not stand like Antipas in the time of trial if you do not do it now, if you do not do it when the going is good.

Do not think you will stand for Christ under threats of life or limb if you blow off church for the minutest of reasons now. If you avoid worship every time you have a work deadline to meet, if you avoid worship every time you have a test the next day, if you avoid worship because you had a late night on Saturday, do not be surprised if you are unable to stand firm when the time of real trial comes.

Antipas was called a faithful witness. We might say he was an enduring evangelist. Antipas was willing to declare his allegiance to the Lord Jesus Christ in the face of great opposition and before others.

You might never be called a martyr, and the Lord grant that none of us ever has to serve in that way. But could you be described as a faithful witness? Could it be said of you?

Sadly, for most of us, myself included, evangelism is just not a big part of our lives. It is something that we engage in extremely rarely. But that ought not to be so. I stand convicted as I engage with this passage.

Notice that Antipas was not described as a faithful elder. He was not described as a faithful pastor. He was not even described as a faithful deacon. He was described as a faithful witness. A faithful witness—and surely that is a description that should be fitting for any one of us, any follower of Christ.

Peter exhorts Christians, saying, “But in your hearts honour Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defence to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you” (1 Peter 3:15, ESV). Always prepared to make a defence to anyone.

How are you at naturally weaving your faith into daily conversation? If you stop viewing the gospel as a sales pitch, it is actually not that hard. Of course, this is what our lives revolve around. Peter tells the believers to do this with gentleness and with respect. He is not telling them to be obnoxious. He is not telling them to be annoying. He is not even telling them to stand on street corners and preach to open-air crowds. He is just telling them to speak up.

Are you willing to speak up? Are you willing to commit yourself from this evening onwards that, with the help of God, we would not just wait for opportunities to present themselves, but that we would be praying and working towards creating opportunities to speak up out there in the world?

By the grace of God, let us resolve to live lives which, like Antipas, would inspire our fellow church members likewise to be faithful. When you lose your job, when you lose a loved one, when you struggle with loneliness, when you have lack, when you are afflicted in any way, display the fruit of the gospel and inspire others to faithful living.

We are mere sinners. We are flawed and fragile. But we have the Spirit of God. We have the Spirit of Christ in us, and by his power, we can make a tangible difference in this world for the kingdom of God. May the Lord bless us, that the commendation he gave to Pergamum might be said of us too.

AMEN