seven letters themselves tend to follow a similar pattern, although some items found in the first letter are missing here and there in the letters that follow. First up always is Christ himself, who is consistently presented with the introductory “these are the words of . . .” The depiction of Christ that follows then picks up some dimension of the imagery from 1:12–16. This is then followed by words of praise and/or censure for the church itself. These in turn are followed by words of warning (sometimes followed by further praise), with a concluding word of admonition (the one consistent element in all of the letters) and/or final promise. When one gets to the letter to Sardis (3:1–6) the more universal nature of all the letters becomes obvious, since the concluding promise to the “overcomers” reads, “those who are victorious will, like them, be dressed in white.” The “like them” picks up the immediately preceding promise to the faithful in Sardis, who “will walk with me, dressed in white, for they are worthy.” The clear implication is that the promise made to the Sardinian believers will also be true of the “victorious” believers in all the churches, and thus to all those who are reading everyone else’s mail.
To the Church in Ephesus (2:1–7)
1“To the angel1 of the church in Ephesus write:
These are the words of him who holds the seven stars in his right hand and walks among the seven golden lampstands: 2I know your deeds, your hard work and your perseverance. I know that you cannot tolerate wicked people, that you have tested those who claim to be apostles but are not, and have found them false. 3You have persevered and have endured hardships for my name, and have not grown weary.
4Yet I hold this against you: You have forsaken the love you had at first. 5Consider how far you have fallen! Repent and do the things you did at first. If you do not repent, I will come to you and remove your lampstand from its place. 6But you have this in your favor: You hate the practices of the Nicolaitans, which I also hate.
7Whoever has ears, let them hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To those who are victorious, I will give the right to eat from the tree of life, which is in the paradise of God.
Without breaking stride, Christ continues speaking to John by commanding him to write to the angel of the church in Ephesus. But this first word appearing in the address to the churches is also the one that has caused considerable difficulty for later interpreters, not to mention readers. As previously noted, in each case the letter is addressed to the angelos of the church. Among the many interpretations of this word (“pastor,” “bishop,” “angel,” or some other kind of special messenger), the most likely one is that adopted by the translators of the NIV, who render it literally with “to the angel,” while footnoting the option “messenger.” The reason for going this route seems quite simple, and is related to the apocalyptic genre itself. Nowhere in these documents are “angels” thought of as anything other than angels. What John appears to do, therefore, is to keep the apocalyptic genre alive by the use of this word, since what follows in each case is the least apocalyptic material in the entire document. Most likely it is John’s need to address the seven churches in a basically straightforward manner, accompanied by his desire to keep intact the apocalyptic nature of the book as a whole, that has brought about this unusual way of speaking to the seven churches. After all, angels reappear throughout the book as presenting or carrying out the divine plan. Even so, throughout John’s entire vision angels are consistently placed in a secondary position to Christ (on which matter, cf. Hebrews 1:5–14).
A contemporary visitor to the site of the ruins of Ephesus can only be amazed to learn that in John’s day the city was located on the coastline itself, since its harbor has long been silted by years of flow from the Cayster River, so that its ruins are now some miles inland. But in John’s day it was the foremost city of the Roman province of Asia, the flower of Asia if you will, and one of the leading cities in the entire Mediterranean world. An important commercial center, it thus became a haven for a large number of diaspora Jews, many of whom had also secured citizenship. Moreover, it was also both a religious tourist site (home of the famous temple of Artemis) and one of the well-known places of asylum (like the Old Testament “cities of refuge”). It comes as no surprise, therefore, that the church in Ephesus holds pride of place among the seven churches. Furthermore, even though its failure (traditionally, “you have forsaken your first love”) is perhaps the best known of all, it is also the church that is given some of the most lavish commendation.
As with each of the letters, this one begins with the phrase these are the words of him who, which is then followed by a descriptor, taken in most cases from some part of the preceding imagery of Christ in 1:13–16. In this first instance Christ is presented by a combination of language from 1:16 (him who holds the seven stars in his right hand) and 1:13 (and walks among the seven golden lampstands), which would appear to be the most basic way Christ could be described when using terms from the preceding vision. The “seven angels” are thus under Christ’s own absolute authority (in his right hand); and he himself is present among the churches to whom he now has John write on his behalf.
This is followed immediately by a considerable expression of praise for the church, praise that has three dimensions to it, all of which in the Greek text are introduced by the main verb I know. The first thing Christ knows, and thus reveals about them, is a more general depiction of praise, expressed in three basic parts (in what evolves into a considerably convoluted sentence2). First, he commends them for their deeds,3 which as a plural is probably to be understood as the general (catch-all) term. This is then spelled out as having two dimensions to it: your hard work and your perseverance. “Work” in this case most likely refers to every form of labor that directly involves ministry (= service to others) of any kind, while “perseverance” means that they have not flagged in doing so.
At least that is what John himself seems to intend when he spells out their “deeds” in a second clause that is dependent on the main verb, “I know.” When elaborated with a bit of detail, their “work” in this case basically has to do with rejecting false teachers. That is, the Lord’s primary concern, and thus John’s ultimate concern, is with the gospel as such, which in the Johannine corpus refers not simply to its theological content, but also to the way people live in the world on the basis of that content. Thus, when the “deeds” for which they are commended are elaborated, they have to do with contending for the truth of the gospel over against some believers who have gotten off track vis-à-vis its truth.
First up, then, is the fact that you cannot tolerate wicked people, a clause that must be kept in context or else it can become a kind of club that the “righteous” might use in contending with the “unrighteous.” These people’s wickedness has altogether to do with their claim to be apostles but are not. At stake for John at this point in time is the truth of the gospel over against those who would twist it into a “gospel” of their own making. But at issue for later readers is the ambiguous word “false,” as to whether it refers to the self-designated “apostles” or whether it refers to their teaching as such. Probably it is a bit of both; that is, they are “false” apostles precisely because they are offering a “false” gospel, and that is what makes them “wicked.” Nineteen centuries later one can only speculate as to the nature of the falsehood they are putting forward, but in light of John’s Gospel and his First Epistle we are probably to understand this false teaching as some kind of doceticism, with its denial of the goodness of the material world in general, and of the human body in particular. How such people had been tested and found . . . false cannot be known with precision from this distance in time, but the emphasis in both the Gospel and First Epistle on Christ’s having come “in the flesh” suggests that inherent to their “gospel” was a denial of the genuine physical reality of Christ’s incarnation.
The final clause in Christ’s opening commendation to this church comes in the form
