What is the significance of Sardis in the Bible?

"And unto the angel of the church in Sardis write; These things saith he that hath the seven Spirits of God, and the seven stars; I know thy works, that thou hast a name that thou livest, and art dead. Be watchful, and strengthen the things which remain, that are ready to die: for I have not found thy works perfect before God. Remember therefore how thou hast received and heard, and hold fast, and repent."

Sardis means "a remnant," or, "those who have escaped." This is surely very significant, and tells its own story too plainly to be misunderstood. It brings before us, prophetically, the great State-churches of the Reformation, who escaped from Rome, only to fall eventually (alas, that it should be so) into cold, lifeless formalism.

SARDIS. One very emphatic sentence gives the character of this church: "Thou hast a name that thou livest, and art dead." It was a name that should carry life, but was in Sardis identified with spiritual death. There had been escape from the corruptions of Rome, but the truth in its purifying power was lost. Yet there were a few who had not defiled their garments. The coming of the Lord 'as a thief' reminds us of the character of His coming to the world as seen in 1 Thess. 5:2. Historically Sardis presents Protestantism, after it had lost spiritual power and become worldly and political.

Thus the words of the Lord to Sardis, "I know thy works, that thou hast a name that thou livest, and art dead" (Rev.3:1), aptly describes the state of Protestantism when the power, bloom and impulse of the Reformation had died down and dead formalism and empty profession, devoid of spiritual life, had set in. This is the state and condition of Christendom in the period which Sardis prophetically sets forth.

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 condition of the angel of the assembly is described in one short, sad, and pregnant sentence: "I know thy works, that thou hast a name that thou livest, and art dead." (v. 1.) The works are general; and "knowing" these is merely the statement that nothing escapes the Lord's notice, that He is cognisant of all the condition of His people; and then, as the result of His investigation (for He walks in the midst of the seven golden candlesticks), He gives His verdict — His infallible verdict. And what is it? A name to live, but a name that belies its actual condition; for He says, "Thou art dead." Such was the state of the angel of Sardis — the actual, existent Sardis — as it presented itself to the eyes (and His eyes are as a flame of fire) of Christ. And this state of things represents also Protestantism as it was after the days of Luther; and, be it remembered, as it will be found until the coming of the Lord.

"And unto the angel of the church of Sardis write; These things says He that has the seven Spirits of God, and the seven stars; I know thy works, that thou hast a name that thou livest, and art dead." (v. 1.) The Holy Ghost is seen in this book in the diversity of His action as "the seven Spirits of God" in connection with the throne, and not in His unity as forming the body of Christ. He is here the One through whom Christ as Lord administers His government of the churches. Christ has also the seven stars. They are His, though no longer said, as at Ephesus, to be in His right hand; for man has actually usurped them in practice.

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.

Sardis.

Sardis is described as a church of profession, but of little reality.

In Sardis we have, therefore, not only a development of the Thyatira condition, but in many respects, as it is easy to see, what is in entire opposition to it; not the claim of infallibility, not corruption of doctrine (as what is prominent), not persecution of the saints, not the exercise of authority in the same sense. There is now a very simple and explicit statement as to the character of things, which is a lack of spiritual power, nay, of life itself. While Christ had as much as ever "the seven spirits of God," — the plenitude of the Spirit as of old, and for His people, — in fact, they whom He addressed had a name to live only, and were dead. I would only there were more difficulty in applying this; but it is surely what fatally characterizes, and did from the beginning characterize, not individuals necessarily, but the churches of the Reformation.

Accordingly, in SARDIS, we don't see Jezebel or her corruption. Things have been received and heard, but they are ready to die. The general state is death, but with a “name to live” and “a few names that have not defiled their garments” in this place of the dead. We have here the national (government-controlled) churches of the Reformation, with their more-Scriptural doctrine, but which is difficult to maintain in the midst of what (the world claiming to be the true Church) is spiritually dead, with only a name to live.

"And to the angel of the church in Sardis write: These things saith he that hath the seven Spirits of God, and the seven stars." There is an evident allusion to the manner in which the Lord presented Himself to the church in Ephesus, but with a marked difference. Ephesus was the first presentation of the general public state. Sardis gives the rise of the new state of things, not strictly ecclesiastical — the Lord acting in the way of testimony rather than in that precise order. Hence it is not said here that He held in His right hand the seven stars and walked in the midst of the seven golden lampstands: this was ecclesiastical strictly. But here He "has" the seven Spirits of God and the seven stars. He changes not, but does not describe Himself as before. Yet all power, all governing energy, is in His hands, and the seven stars, that is to say, all the instrumental lights by which He acts on souls here below. Let them not look to the world — to the powers that be. "I know thy works, that thou hast a name that thou livest, and art dead." Such was Protestantism after the impulse of the Reformation passed. How sad but true! The decline was sure if slow. They did lean on the world; and what can the issue of this be for those who are not of the world, as Christ is not?