Behold, I stand at the door and am knocking; if any one hear my voice and open the door, I will come in unto him and sup with him, and he with me.
These words close the last of the seven letters in Revelation 2–3, addressed to the church at Laodicea. The startling thing is where the Lord stands — outside His own church, asking them to open the door, speaking not to the group but to whoever will listen.
The Lord had just threatened to reject this church. Before He acts on that threat, He takes a place outside the door.
The Lord threatens to reject this church (v. 16). Before He carries that out, He takes a place outside: "Behold, I stand at the door." In this way He disowns the whole body of people who claim the name of Christ. The Lord both knocks and speaks. What a rich display of grace in the worst of circumstances! The Lord does not order them to buy (v. 18), and He does not force His way in. In the one case He advises; in the other He knocks.
You can read the same fact from either side of the door. Both readings are true.
These words show that the Lord has taken a place outside the church of Laodicea. That is a solemn thing. Its wretched moral state forced Him to take this position. On the other hand, it is just as true that Laodicea has shut its door on Christ. They have shut Him out and left Him outside.
Shutting Him out does not change how He feels about them. The wording points to knocking that keeps going.
They may close their door upon Him, but they cannot close His heart against them. If they thrust Him out in utter indifference, He will wait at their door with perfect patience. He does not knock once or twice and then leave. He can say, "I stand at the door and am knocking." He keeps knocking, and He will go on knocking until the day of grace runs out.
The letter has spoken to the church as a whole. Here the words "if anyone" narrow it down to one listener.
Here in Laodicea the Lord takes a place outside. The church in name only has in practice moved into the position Israel once held. So the Lord takes His stand outside, and He calls to individual souls who are inside: "Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice." He wants to gain their attention. He wants them to let Him in. He warns the church of what is coming on it — real judgment. But until He carries that judgment out, He still acts in His own blessed grace. That grace now reaches individuals, because He has given up the church.
Hearing and opening are two different steps. One commentator warns that a person can do the first and never do the second.
Notice the order of the response. First comes hearing His voice — His call to repentance. Then comes opening the door. The bride heard His voice, but she had no energy to open the door until it was too late. So hearing His voice is not enough. Many believers hear it and still stay where they are, tied to evil company.
The promise moves in two directions.
First, "I will come in to him" — not into Laodicea, whose doom is settled. He comes in to the person who, by grace, has opened the door… "I will eat with him." That is, "I will come down to where he is, and share fellowship with him in his things." How wonderful that He should come down so low! But He eats with the one who opened the door for a reason. He wants to lead that person up into the higher blessing of eating with Him, of sharing fellowship with Him in His things, of communion with Himself.
Set beside the other six letters, this promise stands out for when it is kept.
The letters to the first five churches hold no promise that comes true on earth. The letter to Philadelphia holds a promise that comes true as they are caught up from earth. But this last letter holds a promise to enjoy down here — the presence of Christ in close, blessed fellowship.
The verse is often preached to those outside the faith, and commentators differ over whether that use fits the setting. Some allow that use, but insist on what the verse first means:
Here the Lord makes this most solemn and weighty appeal not to the sinner outside, but to the professing Church. Christ is not knocking at the door of the sinner's heart, true as that is too. He is knocking at the door of those inside the professing Church.
Others go further. They argue that the letter as a whole rules this out:
Is this how Christ offers Himself as a Saviour to the unconverted? If it is, there is nothing else like it in the Scriptures… To hold this view is also to assume that the unconverted have power of their own. Opening the door goes far beyond simply believing the gospel message.
- Outside — Laodicea's state pushed Christ out of His own church, and He disowns the body that claims His name.
- Knocking — He does not force the door and does not walk away; He keeps knocking while the day of grace lasts.
- Anyone — He has given up the church, so the call goes to single souls still inside it: "if anyone hears."
- Opening — hearing is only half the response; the bride heard and stayed put until it was too late.
- Supper — He comes down to where the person is, then draws that person up into His own fellowship. It is a promise to enjoy now, on earth.
He that overcomes, to him will I give to sit with me in my throne; as *I* also have overcome, and have sat down with my Father in his throne.
Christ speaks this last of the seven promises to Laodicea, a lukewarm church that has left Him standing outside its door. The promise raises two questions. Which throne does He mean, since He already sits on His Father's throne? And what does overcoming look like in a church that has grown indifferent?
Two thrones stand side by side in this verse. They are not the same seat.
The Lord's words to Laodicea distinguish them very plainly. These messages present Him as Son of Man. His own throne, therefore, is clearly what belongs to Him as Man, in contrast with the Father's throne, the divine one. It is plain at once that He promises His saints a seat with Him on the first throne, but no one could sit on the other unless He were Himself divine.
That distinction fixes the timing of the promise. Christ has not yet taken the throne He calls His own.
The Lord Jesus is not yet seated on His own throne. When He was on earth He had no throne. When He went to heaven, He sat down on His Father's throne... When this promise is fulfilled, He must have left His Father's throne and sat down on His own throne. It is a future thing.
Christ asks for nothing He has not done Himself.
Look at the history of the life of Christ. It was a life of testing and suffering until He reached the cross... Opposition and contempt brought out everything that was in Him. His path grew darker and darker down to the cross. He had to overcome Satan, and He promises others that the one who overcomes will sit with Him on His throne, just as He overcame and sat down with His Father on His throne.
In Laodicea, overcoming turns on one thing: the door.
Overcoming here means hearing the voice of Christ and opening the door to Him. This involves judging the condition of Laodicea and separating from it in heart and practice. Everyone who overcomes in this way will sit with Christ on His throne.
The reward answers the situation point for point.
Most people have closed the door on Christ. The one who overcomes the indifference of Laodicea and opens the door to Him will enjoy more than secret fellowship with Christ in the day of His rejection. He will also share Christ's place in the open display of the day of His glory. Christ overcame a world that rejected the Father, and He has sat down on His Father's throne. The one who overcomes a world that has rejected Christ will sit down with Christ on His throne.
Commentators differ on whether this is the highest of the seven promises. Some read it as splendid but less intimate than what Philadelphia is offered.
To sit with Christ on His throne is a distinction of power. As a reward it has a grand, glorious, majestic, dignified character. But it lacks the share of Christ's personal affection that Christ promises to the overcomer in Philadelphia.
Others deny it is a special rank at all. Yet they still find the reward fitted to the person who receives it.
Some have supposed that this shows an unusually rich kind of blessing. But this is a mistake. There is no special reward here, for it is the common portion of all believers. Still, here as in the other cases, the promise fits exactly... He had let Christ into his heart and known Him in secret fellowship down here. His reward is a place in Christ's own portion in the kingdom and glory up there. The Father received Christ the overcomer up to His own throne, the mark of the Father's approval and love. In the same way, Christ will receive the overcomer who let Him into his heart up to His own throne, the mark of Christ's approval and love.
- Door. Overcoming in Laodicea starts at a door. You hear Christ's voice, open to Him, and turn from the lukewarm indifference around you.
- Pattern. Christ's own path is the measure. His trial grew darker down to the cross, where He overcame Satan before He asked it of anyone else.
- Two seats. He now sits on His Father's throne, which no created being can share; the throne He promises to share is His own, as Son of Man.
- Not yet. The promise is future. Christ must first leave the Father's throne and take His own, and no one shares that seat yet.
- Display. Private fellowship behind a closed door ends in public glory with Christ in His kingdom. It is the mark of His approval and love, whether or not it outranks the promise to Philadelphia.