Inclusion > Exclusion

 

When Jesus speaks to the church in Pergamum in Revelation 2:12-17, He begins with this powerful image: “These are the words of the one who has the sharp, double-edged sword. I know where you live—where Satan’s throne is. Yet you remain true to my name.”

 

Pergamum was a tough place to follow Jesus. It was a city of influence, art, politics, and power—a place where people literally bowed to Caesar to survive. You could choose to follow Jesus, but only if He came after empire. Jesus’ followers there had to decide daily who they would serve.

 

And in this letter, Jesus says, “I see you. I know it’s hard. You’ve stayed faithful.” But He also adds a loving warning: some have begun to compromise—mixing their faith with the values of empire, blending worship of God with the worship of power and pleasure.

 

It’s easy to read that and think of obvious sins. But Jesus wasn’t just talking about behavior; He was talking about allegiance. The issue wasn’t primarily sexual immorality or idol worship—those were symptoms of a deeper heart sickness: divided worship. They wanted both empire and Jesus. And that never works.

 

If I’m honest, I get that tension. We all do. We live in a culture that promises belonging if we’ll just bend the knee to its systems—its version of success, identity, and worth. We long to belong, and sometimes that longing pulls us toward compromise.

 

For some of us, empire looks like chasing control or comfort. For others, it looks like hiding our true selves to fit in. And for many LGBTQ+ Christians—especially those walking the narrow road of Side B discipleship—this passage carries extra weight. You know what it means to hold fast to Jesus when it costs you. You know the pain of being misunderstood by the world and sadly by the church. Jesus’ words to Pergamum are words of comfort for you too: “I see you. Stay true. You belong to Me.”

 

When Jesus calls the church to repent, He isn’t shaming them. He’s inviting them back to wholeness. Repentance isn’t punishment; it’s the healing scalpel of grace. Like a surgeon, Jesus cuts away what harms us—not to wound us, but to set us free.

 

And the promise at the end? It’s beautiful: “To the one who overcomes, I will give hidden manna and a white stone with a new name written on it.”

That hidden manna is spiritual nourishment—food for the soul when you’re starving for love or meaning. The white stone was both an acquittal and an invitation: “You are forgiven. You belong at My table.”

 

In other words, Jesus’ message to Pergamum—and to us—isn’t “be perfect.” It’s “be faithful.” Don’t bow to empire. Don’t let anyone or anything define you more than He does. 

 

The gospel is wide enough to welcome everyone but narrow enough for our worship and allegiance to focus on Jesus.

Grace wins. Inclusion is always greater than exclusion.