The first time the truth broke through my consciousness I was overwhelmed. Reading 1 Corinthians 13, a chapter that defines in human terms how much God actually loves us, I realized verse seven was almost too good to be true.1 "[Love] bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things,…[it] never fails" (1 Cor. 13:7–8a). A powerful difference between God and sinners is that he never loses hope in us. He’ll believe in us more than we’ll ever do in him.

When it comes to hope, the world appears more or less divided between the optimists and the pessimists—those who see the glass half full and those who see it half empty. Much of this disposition may be simply the result of both genetic temperament and a particular person’s environment. But when it comes to God, genetics do not apply, and although his environment could be argued as ideal, the truth is that it would be less than perfect as long as millions among his creation continue to suffer pain, sorrow, and misery at the hands of Satan. We are left with the conclusion that God hopes because he chooses to love.

And here is the point this week. For ten weeks we’ve looked at how we must hope or can hope or will hope; this week the One hoping is Jesus. He hopes we’d let him in by opening the door (Rev. 3:20): "Behold, I stand at the door and knock."

There is a very unique context (unique to our Christianized, Western way of thinking, that is) about the scene of the waiting Jesus knocking at Laodicea’s door. As it is often the case in the book of Revelation, John makes an allusion to the Old Testament, in this case to Song of Solomon. In chapter 5, the setting is that of a king with his proper harem and his choice of companionship for the night. It would not be uncommon for the harem to be housed together, each behind a door that properly identified them, and for the king to select one of the doors as he strolled by in the silence of the night.2 Let’s listen to the unfolding drama:

Woman: "I was asleep, but my heart was awake. A voice! My beloved was knocking."

King: "Open to me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my perfect one! For my head is drenched with dew, my locks with the damp of the night."

Woman: "I have taken off my dress, how can I put it on again? I have washed my feet, how can I dirty them again? My beloved extended his hand through the opening, and my feelings were aroused for him. I rose to open to my beloved; and my hands dripped with myrrh, and my fingers with liquid myrrh, on the handles of the bolt. I opened to my beloved, but my beloved had turned away and had gone!…I searched for him, but I did not find him." (Song of Sol. 5:2–6)

We, the Church, are Christ’s beloved. But just as we once had genuine feelings for his visitation, so now we’ve grown indifferent, Laodicean. We’ve waited longer than expected and have, in fact, fallen asleep. We no longer wait with anticipation for the knock of our King. When he finally knocks, he finds we’ve moved on to a dream world. No longer in the mood, we don’t really care to open the door now. We think of the inconvenience of waking and getting up again, we’d rather keep on sleeping. When we respond so apathetically, our message is clear and he moves on to another door.

There is one difference, however, in Revelation 3 we have no hint of Jesus leaving the door (as there is no hint Laodicea is about to open it!). He stands at the door, hoping to come in and spend intimate time with his own, and whereas up to this time the letter is addressed collectively to the church, now the appeal is made individually.3 Jesus’ action is the result of love for is church (see v. 19). Love produces hope that ever springs eternal.

To the Laodicean church Jesus shows his hope upon the incurably sleepy, self-satisfied. Perhaps all our hoping, as per previous lessons, only points, in the words of C. S. Lewis in The Four Loves, to a mere imitation of what true hope is about.

Notes and References

1. Ellen G. White counsels us "read this chapter every day." Review and Herald, July 21, 1904.
2. I am indebted to Jon Paulien, professor of New Testament Interpretation at the Seventh-day Adventist Seminary, Andrews University, for this insight.
3. Leon Morris, The Book of Revelation, 2d ed., Tyndale New Testament Commentaries (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1987), 58. See also the just-released Revelation of Jesus Christ: Commentary on the Book of Revelation, by Ranko Stefanovic (Berrien Springs, Mich.: Andrews University Press, 2002), 149–50.

EMAIL THIS ARTICLE