The Gospel, Not the Brand, Is What Makes a Church Last
A church’s success is rarely measured the way Christ measures it. In our culture, we love what is large, impressive, and successful. We celebrate churches with swelling attendance, polished branding, and seemingly endless resources. But Revelation 3 reminds us that Christ evaluates His church by a completely different standard. He is not impressed by what dazzles the world. He is moved by what is faithful to Him.
Before Jesus speaks to the churches of Philadelphia and Laodicea, Revelation 1 shows us a picture of the risen Christ with blazing eyes, a voice like rushing waters, and a face shining like the sun. This is the One who holds the church in His hands. His eyes see clearly, His judgments are true, and His values—not ours—define what matters. And what matters to Christ is faithfulness, not fame; endurance, not influence; gospel obedience, not cultural applause.
The church in Philadelphia is a beautiful example of this. They were small, poor, overlooked, and persecuted. No one in their city would have described them as strategic or influential. They had “little power,” Jesus said. But they kept His Word. They did not deny His name. And because of their faithfulness, Christ opened a kingdom-sized door in front of them—an opportunity no power on earth could shut. What they lacked in visibility, they possessed in obedience. What they lacked in resources, they made up for in allegiance to Christ. And Christ used them for work that would outlast empires.
By contrast, Laodicea had everything a church dreams of: wealth, status, public honor, and self-confidence. Yet Christ calls them lukewarm—neither refreshing like cold water nor healing like hot water. They were spiritually useless. Their abundance deceived them, and their comfort blinded them. In their own eyes they were blessed, but in Christ’s eyes they were “wretched, poor, blind, and naked.” They had everything except the one thing Christ values: reliance on Him. Their ministry was little more than empty calories—pleasing to the eye but powerless to transform a soul.
This contrast teaches us the lesson every generation of Christians must relearn: God does not multiply talent, branding, or influence. God multiplies faithfulness. Throughout Scripture, He delights in using what the world ignores: a stuttering Moses, a young shepherd boy, a poor widow’s offering, a handful of uneducated disciples. Power in the kingdom has never flowed through size or status. It has always flowed through faithfulness.
John Piper captured this truth when he wrote, “Only one life, ’twill soon be past; only what’s done for Christ will last.” Everything else—buildings, budgets, platforms, social prestige—will fade like smoke. Only what is rooted in the gospel of Christ, done in obedience to Christ, and aimed at the glory of Christ will stand on the last day. The church’s mission, identity, and impact are not sustained by human strength but by Christ Himself.
This matters now more than ever. We are entering a cultural moment where faithfulness will be costly. Cultural power has shifted. The church can no longer rely on social favor, political influence, or moral majority status. But that is not a loss—it is a return to normal. Weakness has always been the place where Christ displays His strength. And the gospel has always been the only foundation that keeps a church standing when the storms come.
So we must ask ourselves: What do we truly desire? Do we want to be admired by the world or approved by Christ? Do we want to be known as impressive or known as faithful? Would we rather possess earthly abundance or spiritual usefulness? Revelation 3 calls us back to what has always been the heart of the church: to keep Christ’s Word, to honor His name, to rely on His strength, and to measure success by His standard.
Jesus ends both letters with the same plea: “He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.” This is the moment for every church—and every believer—to listen. Christ is calling His people away from self-sufficiency and toward deeper dependence on Him. He is calling us away from the illusion of success and back to the simplicity of the gospel. He is calling us away from lukewarm comfort and back to the joy of wholehearted faithfulness.
The work that lasts is the work done for Christ. And the church He uses is the church that clings to Him. Everything else is temporary. But Christ uses simple, faithful, gospel-rooted churches—no matter their size—to accomplish eternal things.