How can I recognize a dead church?

But how sad the state of the assembly at Sardis. There is not, indeed, the gross evil and corruption seen in Thyatira, but here for the first time the Lord finds nothing to commend. The censure begins at once, and the state is described in a single word — soulless profession, a name to a live, but dead. It was not scandalous wickedness, but decent death; the form retained, the heart gone; Christ owned in word, ignored in deed; creeds correct, conduct respectable, life departed. How does it please the Lord, who is looking for love from the Church, that it should have sound doctrine or outward propriety, if the affections are not only waning, but gone, His name held, His word read, His truth owned, Himself forgotten? Such was the state of the assembly at Sardis. It had become just a part of the world, as barren and lifeless towards God as any other portion.

The Lord declares solemnly, "I know thy works, that thou has a name that thou livest, and art dead." How sad and solemn the indictment! One might well ask in amazement, How can such things be after the blessing and revival of Reformation days? But when we remember that the State-churches were, from the first, intended to include all the population of a given country, who were supposed to be made members of the church and kingdom of Christ by baptism in infancy, one can readily understand why such churches, though, possibly, strictly orthodox, may yet be largely composed of persons still dead in trespasses and in sins. Nothing can be much sadder than vast congregations of people, baptized, banded together as Christians, "taking the sacrament" of the Lord's Supper, zealous for church and Christianity, and yet largely devoid of personal, saving faith in Christ -- trusting rather in forms and ceremonies, and what some have called "birth-right membership," than in new birth through the Word and Spirit of God.

I. The Church is the body of Christ, formed by the Holy Ghost sent down to dwell on earth. — As such it consists only of true believers, real members of Christ's body. Such is God's institution; but what is the Church, as man has made it? Throughout a large part of Christendom, the so-called Church, instead of being the assembly of the saved, is held forth as the means of salvation. Unconverted persons are urged to come into it, and are told that deliverance from wrath and judgment is to be obtained by its offices. In other cases the Church is a political institution, and every citizen, without respect to his conversion or non-conversion, is entitled to its communion and its privileges. There are considerable exceptions, no doubt, but in one or other of these two classes the enormous preponderance of nominal Christians are included. To the great mass, therefore, of that which bears the name, and is the responsible witness, for Christ on earth, the solemn words of the Judge may be addressed — "I know thy works, that thou hast a name that thou livest, and art dead" (Rev. 3:1). The professing Church, instead of consisting only of living members of Christ, has merely a name to live, and is dead — "having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof" (2 Tim. 3:5). How needful, then, that where there is true life, the solemn warning should be heeded — "Be watchful, and strengthen the things which remain, that are ready to die, for I have not found thy works perfect before God (Rev. 3:2).

"I know thy works, that thou hast a name that thou livest, and art dead." This describes the cold and formal ways of religion that were found after the Reformation among those that were not really Christians. The Lord Jesus shows what He disapproves of in Protestantism. Why not be thoroughly Christians? It was a poor thing to boast of not being as bad as Jezebel; it was death if not abomination.

Dead formality generally characterized this assembly. Respectability in man's eye there might be, for they had "a name to live;" but, spiritually speaking, they were "dead." Lamentable condition! With an orthodox confession and outward decency, there was a Christless, lifeless religion. This is very solemn, because some of the Lord's own people were, doubtless, involved in it. The Lord, therefore, is presented to them as the One who has all fulness of spiritual power, and gifts for edification, "having the seven Spirits of God, and the seven stars." He also exhorts them to "repent;" and seeks to restore, by enjoining them to remember how they have received and heard, and thus to "hold fast;" for the way is cleansed only by taking heed thereto, according to God's word. They were exhorted also to be watchful, and to strengthen the things which remain, which are ready to die; and were reminded that like a dying branch brings no fruit to perfection, so their works, which were often begun well, were not ripened by patiently abiding in Christ.

"Thou hast a name that thou livest." There was much orthodoxy and correctness of doctrine in the creeds of the Protestants. Much truth was expressed and owned as facts, and is still found among some Protestants today, but there was no spiritual life. It was, and is today, a cold, formal, lifeless, orthodox thing without the power of the Spirit of God. There is the appearance of life, but He who pierces through the outward covering of formalism says, Thou art dead. The name and outward profession belies the actual condition. There was a name to live, but it was only a name, a profession without spiritual life. Protestantism that began with the Reformation, which was in the power of the Spirit at first, now was in the sleep of death. It settled down in worldly associations and had a reputation of life, but without spiritual vitality.

— “I know thy works, that thou hast a name that thou livest, and art dead.” The Lord’s omniscience is again asserted in the words, “I know thy works.” Thus He Who walks in the midst of the churches searches Sardis, and pronounces this judgment, “Thou hast a name that thou livest, and art dead.” Such was, and is, Protestantism. The Reformation was the result of the energy of the Spirit of God. Historically we trace that mighty intervention of God to its human instruments, Luther, Melanchthon, etc., and to the various causes which contributed to the grand result, as the invention of printing, etc., but behind all these the great operating cause was the Holy Ghost. We regard the papacy as the greatest curse and the Reformation as the greatest blessing since the introduction of Christianity. We distinguish between the Reformation and Protestantism; the former was a divine work, the latter a human system.

When the energy of the Reformers succeeded in breaking the chains and shackles of the worst tyranny which history records the crucial question arose: Will the energy and zeal be maintained? Will victory succeed victory? Alas, the Reformation, like every movement begun in the Spirit, soon lapsed into a cold, formal, lifeless, orthodox thing. The Reformers, and notably those who succeeded them, commenced the system of making churches instead of searching Scripture, from which they could alone learn what the Church of God is. Spiritual power was well-nigh gone; it might be found in individuals here and there, but, as a general and characteristic condition of the Church soon after the Reformation, the personal presence of the Holy Ghost in the Church (1 Cor. 3:17) and in the individual believer (1 Cor. 6:19) was either unknown, or, where a glimmering of the truth had penetrated, ignored. Yet things seemed fair enough, but within the power, the life, was not there. We refer to the general state. In Protestantism we have not the horrors nor gross corruption of the Middle Ages, but rather the sleep of death. There is a name to live, but only a name. The change from the papacy to Protestantism, from Thyatira to Sardis, may be described as a step out of the “chamber of horrors” into the “cell of death”. There is the appearance of life, but He Whose eyes search all things and pierce through the outward covering says “art dead.”

Following upon the presentation of Christ to the Church, we have the Lord's judgment of the condition of Sardis. He says, "I know thy works, that thou hast a name that thou livest, and art dead." Thus, in Sardis, we see the condition of a large section of the professing Church which, having escaped the abominations of Thyatira, falls into spiritual torpor, contented with a public profession of orthodoxy. Mere profession may make a name before men, who only look on that which is outward: it is not life before Christ, who reads the heart. In Protestantism there is the reputation for maintaining the vital truths of Christianity, as opposed to the corruptions of Rome, but, in the sight of the Lord, there is no vital link with Himself in the vast mass of those who make this profession.

The Lord's solemn word for Sardis was, "I know thy works, that thou hast a name that thou livest, and art dead." This was their state in His sight. We must not think we can escape the edge of that word, saying we are not in Sardis. It has an application individually as well as collectively. It may be true of some of us that we have a name to live but are dead.

A local assembly will therefore first put the question to anyone asking to break bread whether they possess life from God. We can naturally not see into a person’s heart, but God gives us a sure means of verifying: we can judge the fruits that new life produces (Matthew 7: 20). One fruit of eternal life is our love towards God, shown in our obedience to Him; the second is our love of our fellow believers. (1 John 5: 2). These are two pillars that support our new life. Now we cannot know whether someone is telling the truth or not, but we can judge whether a person wishes to be obedient to the Word of God, loves God and enjoys being among His children. If we notice, for example, that somebody who claims to be born of God and yet shows no concern for His Word and feels most at home with friends who are unbelievers, we begin to wonder whether he is genuinely born again. It is true that the Lord alone knows those who are His own, but whether someone abstains from unrighteousness can be seen (cf. 2 Timothy 2: 19). This we recognize by their fruits and can make our judgment accordingly.