It is Laodicean,--conformed in
everything to the popular judgment and will,--the extreme
opposite of Nicolaitan. Instead of a Church of domineering
clericals, it is the Church of the
domineering mob, in which nothing may be safely preached except
what the people are pleased to hear,--in which the teachings of
the pulpit are fashioned
to the tastes of the pew, and the feelings of the individual
override the enactments of legitimate authority. It is
lukewarm,--nothing decided,--partly hot and partly
cold,--divided between Christ and the world,--not willing to
give up pretension and claim to the heavenly, and yet clinging
close to the earthly,--having too much conscience to cast off
the name of Christ, and too much love for the world to take a
firm and honest stand entirely on His side. There is much
religiousness, but little religion; much sentiment, but very
little of life to correspond; much profession, but very little
faith; a joining of the ball-room to the communion-table,
of the
opera with the worship of God, and of the feasting and riot of
the world with pretended charity and Christian benevolence. And
it is
self-satisfied, boastful, and empty. Having come down to the
world's tastes, and gained the world's praise and patronage, the Laodiceans think they are rich, and increased with goods, and
have need in nothing. Such splendid churches, and influential
and intelligent congregations, and learned, agreeable preachers!
Such admirable worship and music! Such excellently manned and
endowed institutions! So many missionaries in the field! So much
given for magnificent charities! Such an array in all the
attributes of greatness and power! What more can be wanted? ...
Can any one scrutinize narrowly the professed Church of our day,
and say that we have not reached the Laodicean age?
J. A. Seiss, The Apocalypse, 1865
