Jesus wrote to a real church in a rich city that thought it was fine. Hot and cold were never the problem. Here is what lukewarm meant to them, and what it does not mean for you.
A lukewarm Christian, in the sense Jesus meant in Revelation 3, is a believer who has grown comfortable and self-sufficient and feels perfectly fine about it. The Laodiceans were not unemotional. They said “I do not need a thing,” and they meant it.
Hot and cold were both good things to Jesus. Lukewarm was the problem because it helped nobody. And the letter does not end with Him leaving. It ends with Him knocking.
This passage has been used to frighten sincere believers and to push quiet ones into performing. Neither use fits the text, and we will show you why from the letter itself.
Revelation 3:14 to 22 is not a floating message to Christians in general. It opens, “To the angel of the church in Laodicea write.” Laodicea was a real city in the Lycus Valley in what is now western Turkey, a short distance from Hierapolis and Colossae. These believers heard this letter read aloud in their own gathering, in their own time, before the end of the age came in AD 70. We walk through the dating in when Revelation was written.
The letter is full of their city, so it helps to know a little about where they lived.
The Roman historian Tacitus records that around AD 60 an earthquake laid Laodicea in ruins, and the city recovered by its own resources without help from Rome.
The geographer Strabo says the sheep around Laodicea were prized for soft, glossy black wool, and that the city drew splendid revenue from it.
Strabo also mentions a well known school of medicine at the temple of Men Karou, between Laodicea and Carura. Many connect the eye salve of verse 18 to it. Eye salve was sold across the region, so we hold that link loosely.
Colossians 2:1 and 4:13 to 16 mention the believers in Laodicea, and Paul wanted his letter to Colossae read there too. By Revelation this was a church with a history.
“You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked.”
Revelation 3:17 (NIV)Put the letter next to the city and it reads like a mirror held up to civic pride. A city that needed nothing from Rome had a church that needed nothing from Jesus. For the wider story of the congregation, see our study of the church of Laodicea. Here we stay with one word.
The most common sermon on this passage goes like this. Hot means on fire for God. Cold means openly against Him. Lukewarm sits in between, and Jesus would rather you be His enemy than a halfhearted friend.
That reading runs into verse 15. Jesus says, “I wish you were either one or the other!” He is not wishing hostility on His own church. He is saying hot and cold are both good, so they cannot mean what that sermon assumes.
Hot is passion, cold is rejection, and Jesus prefers an open enemy to a lukewarm friend.
Hot and cold are both wished for, because both are useful. Lukewarm is the only one of the three that is good for nothing.
In 1958, M.J.S. Rudwick and E.M.B. Green published a short study, “The Laodicean Lukewarmness,” arguing that the image points to local water. Hierapolis had hot springs, good for healing. Colossae had cold water, good for drinking. Laodicea’s supply, on this reading, arrived tepid and was good for neither.
You will hear that picture in a lot of good sermons, and it is debated. Craig Koester of Luther Seminary argued in a 2003 study that the image comes from ordinary dining, where drinks were served hot or cold and nobody wanted them tepid. He later put the point simply: “What is tepid loses its appeal by conforming to the temperature of the air around it.” More recent work at the site has also questioned whether Laodicea’s water was any worse than its neighbors’.
Lukewarm, tepid. This is the only place the word appears in the New Testament.
From emeo, to vomit. Stronger than spit. The picture is a drink so unpleasant it comes straight back up.
“I am about to.” A warning of what is coming if nothing changes, not a verdict already carried out.
“Be earnest,” from the same family as our word zeal. The cure for lukewarm is warmth of heart toward Jesus, the idea behind zeal in the Bible.
Whichever background you prefer, the point lands in the same place. Hot and cold both do something. Lukewarm has taken on the temperature of the room.
In Revelation 3:15, what does Jesus say He wishes the church were?
“I wish you were either one or the other!” Both are wished for, which is why cold cannot mean open hostility here. The only problem is the useless middle.
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Manage My Giving"Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver."2 Corinthians 9:7
This passage gets pulled in two opposite directions, and both do damage.
If your faith cools, God will spit you out of salvation. It is preached at altar calls and passed around online, and it lands hardest on the wrong people: the anxious, the depressed, new believers, and anyone in a dry season who already wonders if God is done with them.
Lukewarm means not emotional enough. Not loud enough in worship, not at enough services, not excited enough. This one is used to push people into performance, and it quietly shames the steady believer who loves Jesus without much volume.
Sound of Heaven holds that the Laodicean problem was self-sufficiency, not low emotion. The text shows it. Jesus quotes their own words, “I do not need a thing,” and every remedy in verse 18 is something they had to receive from Him: gold, white clothes, eye salve. A believer who feels very little and still knows they need Jesus is not lukewarm. A church that feels wonderful and needs nothing is.
We also hold that this verse does not teach that a believer can be thrown out of salvation. The warning is addressed to a congregation, much like the lampstand warning to Ephesus in 2:5, and it concerned that church’s standing and witness in its own day. Salvation is held by Christ, as we lay out in can you lose your salvation. And the very next thing Jesus says is “Those whom I love I rebuke and discipline.” You do not rebuke someone you have already thrown away.
Notice that the Laodiceans had no such worry. That was their whole condition. A tender conscience that aches for God is a sign of life, not of rejection.
Dry seasons are real, and grief, depression and exhaustion can flatten your feelings for a long time. That is not lukewarmness. If that is where you are, let someone carry it with you through our prayer team.
“Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me.”
Revelation 3:20 (NIV)This verse is usually painted as Jesus at the door of an unbeliever’s heart, and that is not wrong as far as it goes. “If anyone” is personal. But look at who received the letter. This is a church. Jesus is standing outside a congregation that carries His name, knocking to be let into their own table.
That is the saddest line in the letter and the kindest. They had built a life that ran fine without Him. He does not kick the door in and He does not walk away. He knocks, speaks, and offers to sit down and eat, which in that world meant welcome and restored friendship. For more on the image, see Jesus knocking on the door.
The diagnosis. They could not see their own condition, so sight comes first.
Gold, white clothes and eye salve, all from Jesus. What the city was proud of, He offers in a truer form.
A change of mind about where life comes from. See what repentance means in the Bible.
Friendship at the table, not probation at the door.
A share in Christ’s reign, which Revelation 1:6 says believers already have as a kingdom and priests.
Jesus warned Laodicea, then counseled them, then knocked. The warning existed to get the door open.
If lukewarm means self-sufficient, the questions change. They stop being about how you feel on Sunday and start being about what you actually lean on.
When did you last ask God for something you could not supply yourself? Comfort makes prayer feel optional.
Is money doing the work of security in your life? James asks the same thing about the double minded heart that trusts God and something else at once.
Do your convictions simply match whoever is around you? That is Koester’s point about tepid water: it blends in.
Hot and cold both served people. Is your faith refreshing or healing anyone besides you?
Notice what is not on the list. Volume in worship, the number of services you attend, how emotional your prayers are. Those can be good, and none of them is the measure Jesus used. A person can be loud and lukewarm. A person can be quiet and burning.
On Long Island, where a lot of us are busy, comfortable and tired all at once, the drift toward needing nothing is easy and usually slow. The fix is not a louder Sunday. It is an open door.
Revelation 3 was written to a real church in a real city, and it did its work in their time. What carries forward is the character of the One speaking. He sees clearly, He tells the truth, He loves enough to rebuke, and He would rather knock than leave.
If you have been afraid of this passage, you can put the fear down. If you have used it to push people harder, you can put that down too. The invitation is the same one Laodicea heard: open the door and eat with Him.
For related reading, see our summary of the book of Revelation, and if you want a church family to walk this out with, plan a visit to Sound of Heaven.
A lukewarm Christian, in Jesus’ words to Laodicea, is not a quiet believer but a comfortable one who needs nothing, and His answer to that church was not rejection but a knock at the door.
Tell us where you are. Someone from Sound of Heaven will pray with you, no lecture attached.
A lukewarm Christian is a believer who has grown comfortable and self-sufficient, still connected to church but no longer leaning on Jesus. The phrase comes from Revelation 3:14 to 22, a letter to the church in Laodicea, a wealthy city that rebuilt after an earthquake without outside help. The church said, “I do not need a thing.” Jesus called that lukewarm. It describes self-satisfaction and uselessness to others, not a quiet personality or a season when your emotions feel flat.
No. The warning in Revelation 3:16 was addressed to a whole congregation in its own time, much like the lampstand warning to Ephesus in 2:5. It concerned a church’s standing and witness, not a believer being erased from salvation. The Greek says Jesus was “about to” act, which leaves room to respond, and in verse 19 He says He rebukes those He loves. Salvation is held by Christ, not by the steadiness of your feelings.
Both are good. Jesus says, “I wish you were either one or the other,” so cold cannot mean open hostility. A popular reading ties the image to local water, with hot springs at nearby Hierapolis and cold water at Colossae, both useful. Other scholars, such as Craig Koester, point to dining customs, where drinks were served hot or cold but never tepid. Either way, hot and cold both do something useful, and lukewarm is the one that helps no one.
In Revelation 3:20 Jesus is speaking to a church. He pictures Himself outside the door of a congregation that bears His name, knocking to come in and share a meal. In the ancient world a shared table meant welcome and friendship. The line is personal too, since “if anyone hears my voice” invites each person to respond. It shows that His goal with a lukewarm church was restored fellowship, not rejection.
Start where Jesus started with Laodicea: honesty about need. Ask Him for what you cannot supply yourself, whether that is wisdom, peace, or clear sight about your own life. Pay attention to what you actually lean on for security. Put your faith to work for someone else, because hot and cold were both useful. And do it with others, in a church family and in prayer. The cure is not more emotion. It is opening the door.