Sardis had been the third biggest city in the region after Ephesus and Smyrna; its citadel was on a steep spur at the foot of Mount Tmolus in the middle of the Hermus river valley. It had been an important trading crossroads but some 70 years earlier it was devastated by an earthquake. Despite the Emperor pouring in money for rebuilding and the citizens being exempted paying taxes for five years in an effort to restart the economy, trading patterns changed, and the city was in decline - although still boasting of its former glory.

This church had lost its way. It was content to be a religious club instead of enjoying a dynamic relationship with Jesus Christ. It was asleep to the awesome character of Christ, the glories of heaven, the dangers of hell and the privilege of being in God's kingdom. They were obsessed with themselves and fear of others, having no care for the lost. So Jesus commanded them to wake up. Twice in their history, the citadel of Sardis had been invaded because watchmen were not alert.

As Philadelphia was the gateway to trade with the east, so Jesus promised that the church in that city had an open door to share the gospel – and nobody could stop the gospel being proclaimed (Revelation 3:8).

In contrast to all the other churches, the Lord Jesus Christ has nothing good to say about Laodicea. It was a rich church in a rich city, which boasted a renowned trade in wool, linen, financial services and eye ointment. It had a medical school. It was a desirable place to live and work, full of self-satisfied people. Having no water source of its own, Roman engineering brought water from a hot spring at Hierapolis, near modern Pamukkale, where it still bubbles out of the rock – depositing its chalky minerals over the surface of stony steps.