THE LONG ROAD OUT OF LAODICEA

THE LONG ROAD OUT OF LAODICEA

                THE CITY OF Laodicea had high walls and iron gates. The mote was deep and the draw bridge was rarely lowered. From my darkened cell I would read of life on the outside. My book, though ancient and tattered, painted vivid pictures of freedom, of lakes and streams, of fruit trees and green pastures. It spoke of distant lands and cities without walls. In my heart I knew that I must find a way. I MUST find a way. I HAD TO find a way to the land beyond the walls.

                One day an ancient prophet showed up at my cell door. He opened the rusty iron gate as if there was no lock on it and he stood before me, his long beard flowing down his robe.

                “How did you come here?” I asked incredulously. “The gates are locked and the bridge is up. No one has been here for months.”     

                “Oh” said the prophet, “But the gates are only closed for those who cannot see them as open.”

                “Not true,” I retorted. I have tried them many times. Any attempt to escape has only landed me in worse trouble than I was already in. At last I am here in this cell, my freedom all but gone and all I have is this book by which to dream of better days.”

                The prophet smiled and withdrew from his pouch a key. “Here” he said, “When you are good and ready to escape from this place, you must travel to the city of Philadelphia. It is a far piece from here, but it is well worth your trouble.

                “But I don’t know where the city of Philadelphia is sir.” I blurted. “How will I get there if I don’t know where I am going?

                The prophet smiled at me with eyes bordering on pity. He took a deep breath and shook his head. “The book my son… It’s all in the book. Follow the book and it will take you to Philadelphia.”

                “The book,” I thought to myself. “I have been reading the book forever, but I have never seen any instructions to Philadelphia. “There is no map.” I blurted out. “I have been reading this book for years and yet here I am locked away in this cell.”

                “The key” he said. “You need the key.”

                Looking down at the key in my hand, I then looked up at the prophet. “What kind of key is this anyway? I have never seen a key like this before.”

                “It is the key of David,” he replied. “ It is a key that opens doors that no man can shut and shuts doors that no man can open.” The prophet took the ancient pouch from his shoulder and handed it to me. “Here” he said, “You will also need this for your journey.  Keep it safe and don’t let anyone steal it from you.”

                Looking back down at the key in my hand I began to grapple with the puzzle that had been given to me. What kind of key opens what cannot be shut and shuts what cannot be opened?” I mused. I looked up to ask for a better explanation, but the prophet was gone… vanished into thin air.

                 Holding the key tightly in my hand and clutching the pouch that was now slung over my shoulder, I waited for nightfall and then tried the key on my cell door. It opened! I stuck to the shadows and crept to the gate. The key opened this gate as well! In front of me the drawbridge lay flat across the mote. My heart was pounding loud enough to wake the whole city, I thought. Ahead of me as far as the eye could see, the moonlight cast a silvery luminescence upon the darkness beyond. “I will have to wait until daylight to read from the book,” I thought’ as I crept to an outcropping of rocks and trees that formed a silhouette against the silvery landscape. Huddling down behind dew covered bushes; I waited, anxiously for the dawn.

                I must have fallen asleep for when I woke a deer was nibbling grass nearby and the birds seemed to be about the business of feeding their young. I stretched a little and then remembered my book with a start. It took a good deal of searching, but to my amazement I found that both the cities of Laodicea and Philadelphia were mentioned in the book in some detail.

                Eagerly I looked first of all at Laodicea. I was curious to see if the book’s description of Laodicea was accurate. Reading with eager eyes, it didn’t take long to realize that this book had described Laodicea to a “T”. Full of complacent people who had not the slightest curiosity as to what lay outside the walls, they just went about their routines. They all appeared to be rich in material wealth it seemed, but lacking in imagination. They had no desire to learn anything new. They followed blindly after the routines of their forefathers.

                As I read on, my heart began to pound with excitement. Here in this description of Laodicea were actual instructions on how to escape it for those who hungered for more. It said I needed eye salve to heal my blindness. On instinct I anxiously I rummaged through the old pouch that the prophet had given me and sure enough, there was a clam shell case and in it a portion of salve. I dipped my finger into it and applied it to my eyes. As I did so, the sky turned blue and the vast wilderness began to bloom with flowers. Suddenly a road appeared in the wilderness.

                Nearby a spring bubbled up from the ground, so reaching again into the prophet’s pouch I withdrew a cup. I dipped it into the cool water and drank deeply. Strengthened and refreshed by the water I turned my back on Laodicea and headed down the road. I was on my way to Philadelphia and I would not look back.

                There were many dangers along the way. There were brigands and thieves waiting to accost the unwary traveler. Trolls leered from swampy areas and creatures of the night waited in the shadows for someone to slip and fall. At one point a group of mercenaries had opened a toll bridge. They demanded payment to get across. Again I reached into the prophet’s pouch and found gold refined by fire. I paid the toll and crossed the river.

                Later on I encountered a traveler that had been attacked by the enemy and left bleeding on the side of the road. I gave him some of the eye salve and dressed his wounds with it as well. I reached into my pouch and shared some gold with him and a white garment to replace his tattered and bloody clothes.

                We travelled in silence for some time. He needed a shoulder to lean on as his wounds were healing and so we began to share our journey together. In time other men and women joined us and to my amazement the eye salve never seemed to run low and there was always more gold to share and white clothing enough for everyone. Everything we needed came forth from the pouch.

                Together we were overcoming things that would have been difficult to overcome alone. As our group grew in size, the trolls remained hidden and the thieves would only follow along hoping for someone to separate from the group. We began to stick together like glue.

                One day someone shouted and we all looked up. There on the horizon stood the gleaming walls of Philadelphia, the city of brotherly love. Its gates were wide open. We picked up our pace. Dark clouds had been forming all around us and we hurried ahead to find refuge in the city. Enemy forces had grown in number and now they were emboldened to attack. They were determined to keep us from reaching the city. All around us were the sounds of war. How had this come upon us so suddenly? We were within reach of the city, but now, it seemed like all hell was breaking loose. Angry monsters snarled at us from every side. Bombs exploded in close proximity. Some members of the group were falling away. Fear had caused some of them to scatter.

                Lured by promises of a free pass, they sided with the enemy. They had joined the opposition and now they were hurling taunts at us. Danger was on every side.

                We clutched our white clothing around us and huddled in a ravine to study the book. This time it warned of danger, of persecution, of judgment. It became apparent that some of us would die before reaching the city and yet we were told that we could overcome if we persevered. We needed patience and faith. We needed to gear up with armor, weapons of warfare. I reached into the prophet’s pouch and withdrew swords, and shields, ammo belts and boots and helmets.

                Being thus equipped we pushed on through the maelstrom. Shrieking winds tore at our clothing, but it did not tear. Flying debris battered against our armor, but it held. With one final push we stumbled through the gates of Philadelphia. Home at last. The sounds of war grew distant as we were swallowed up in the light of love and fellowship with those who had made it there before us.

                From this city we would be taken to our eternal home, but for now, the eye salve, the gold, the white clothing and the book would be our means of survival. From here we would call many others out of the maelstrom and into the relative peace of the city of brotherly love.

                It is a long road out of Laodicea. It is a road from theoretical, institutional Christianity to intimacy with Me through My word, My Spirit and prayer. “Draw near to Me and I will draw near to you.” The key is an intimate and living relationship with Jesus.