The Seven Golden Lamp Stands

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Then I turned to see the voice that was speaking with me. And having turned I saw seven golden lampstands; and in the middle of the lampstands I saw one like a son of man, clothed in a robe reaching to the feet, and girded across His chest with a golden sash. His head and His hair were white like white wool, like snow; and His eyes were like a flame of fire. His feet were like burnished bronze, when it has been made to glow in a furnace, and His voice was like the sound of many waters. In His right hand He held seven stars, and out of His mouth came a sharp two-edged sword; and His face was like the sun shining in its strength. When I saw Him, I fell at His feet like a dead man. And He placed His right hand on me, saying, “Do not be afraid; I am the first and the last, and the living One; and I was dead, and behold, I am alive forevermore, and I have the keys of death and of Hades. Therefore write the things which you have seen, and the things which are, and the things which will take place after these things. As for the mystery of the seven stars which you saw in My right hand, and the seven golden lampstands: the seven stars are the angels of the seven churches, and the seven lampstands are the seven churches.” - Revelation 1:12-20

PART 1: THE HOUSE THAT FACED EAST

To understand the very first vision John received in the book of Revelation, we must go back in time to see what John is saying. And by back, I do not mean back to the first century, I mean something deeper. I mean going back further than the Herodian temple that was standing in John’s day, past Ezra's post-exillic rebuilt temple, past the glorious house that Solomon erected in Jerusalem, and even past the tabernacle assembled at the behest of YHWH at Mt. Sinai. I am talking about going back all the way to where temple language begins, and that is in the garden of Eden, which was planted and facing East. 

In this sense, Eden was the first temple. And every temple thereafter has been a shadow of that first sanctuary. What do I mean? Well.. When we think of temples, we often envision ornate architecture, stone columns, towering walls, and golden furniture, set in the middle of a sprawling metropolis. Like the metropolitan tabernacle in London or the Herodian temple in downtown Jerusalem. But biblically speaking, a temple is not first and foremost about its construction or location—it is about communion with God. A temple, in its most basic essence, is the place where God descends from heaven to dwell with man. It is a special place of divine presence. And by that definition, Eden is the prototype. Before there were Levitical priests, fancy altars, or sacrifices of bulls, lambs, and goats, there was Eden. The place where God walked with Adam and Eve in the cool of the day (Genesis 3:8), revealing His presence to them, and inviting them to enjoy His intimacy and nearness. Thus, a temple. 

Furthermore, the language used in Genesis 2 confirms it. You see, when God places Adam in the garden, He commissions him "to work it and to keep it" (Genesis 2:15). These Hebrew verbs—‘abad (עָבַד) and shamar (שָׁמַר)—do not mean simply "gardening" and “tilling” earth, but have a much more priestly and general function. How do we know this? Because these same words are used to describe the priestly duties in the tabernacle. Yep… That’s right. The same words God told Adam “To work and keep” are the same words God commanded Aaron and his offspring to do as a high priest. For example, in Numbers 3:7–8, the Levites are “to perform the duties (‘abad) of the tabernacle… and keep (shamar) all the furnishings of the tent.” That is garden language! Again in Numbers 18:5–6, the Levites are described as those who “serve” and “keep” guard over the sanctuary. This isn’t coincidental. The same idea is present in the tabernacle that was present in Eden. God invites us into sacred space, He fills it with His life giving presence so that it is teeming with life like a garden, and He appoints a man to work it and keep lt as a temple. Adam was the first high priest and Eden was the first temple, but certainly not the last. 

Furthermore, Eden was not just a sacred habitat; it was to be a holy habitation. And in that way it is a type and shadow of what is to come, when Jesus would come as the true and better gardener, who would be “tabernacling” among His people (John 1:14), which meant that He would bring us back into the garden temple where life happens in the presence of God. This tells us that Jesus’ purpose was priestly and also Edenic. And from this we see that the heart of temple theology is not about location, uniforms, sacrifices, and structure—it is a shared space where God and man can dwell together in joy. Eden was that in perfection, like a blueprint perfectly describes what the completed building is going to look like. In that way, Eden was God’s original design for the holy of holies, a sacred place where the Creator communed freely with His image-bearers. 

But, Eden also tells us a little something about God’s design plans for the world. How? Because Eden was never meant to be a single region among the various wastelands and deserts of earth. it was meant to spread. Eden was to be the launching point of God’s presence covering the earth, as Adam and Eve were blessed and told to “be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it” (Genesis 1:28) so that the glory of God would cover the earth in temple glory (Habakkuk 2:14). The plan was for image-bearers to extend God’s sacred space across the globe, so that the world would become God’s temple.

Now, seeing how this is true of Eden, I want you to remember that this is the paradigm for all temple activity in the Bible. Whenever God shares His presence with man, He is “templing” and “tabernacling.” And, whenever God does this, life, growth, fruit, garden imagery, and blessings come to man, which is why you never see God templing or tabernacling in wasteland and deserts. In this way, a garden is a kind of metaphor for what life looks like under the blessing of God, what your life looks like when God is tending you, growing you, and procuring fruit in you. And in that way, the concepts of temple, God’s presence, and garden, are all tied together in the Bible in very interesting and surprising ways. 

For instance, when God gave Moses the blueprints for the tabernacle, He was recreating Eden in a tent temple kind of way. The tabernacle was a portable paradise, a mobile mountain of God, draped in symbolism and saturated with garden imagery in almost every section. Every detail was a theological dark aimed right back at that first sanctuary where man and God once walked in peace together.

The structure itself testified to this. Just like Eden, the tabernacle faced east (Exodus 27:13), signifying the direction from which man had been expelled from the garden (Genesis 3:24). As you stepped into the outer courtyard, you began your symbolic journey back toward the presence of God—returning symbolically back into Eden where man abides with God.

Inside the Holy Place stood the golden lampstand, meticulously crafted to resemble an almond tree in full bloom (Exodus 25:31–36). This was nott a candelabra. Not a mere torch. It was made to resemble a garden tree, complete with full buds, branches, blossoms, and fruit. Which means that this lamp stand was a deliberate allusion to the tree of life—the centerpiece of Eden’s sanctuary and life giving nutrition (Genesis 2:9). In this holy tent, God was replanting His garden, one piece at a time, with His tree-of-life like lamp stand at the center.

The priest in this tabernacle was a kind of new Adam. He was clothed in glory and beauty (Exodus 28:2), just as Adam was originally clothed in innocence and honor. His role was to serve (‘abad) and to guard (shamar) the sacred space of the tabernacle, echoing Adam’s original commission in the garden. He kept the oil burning in the lamp stand, just as Adam was to cultivate the garden. He ensured no unclean thing entered the tent, just as Adam was to repel the serpent when he came slithering into the garden. He was to be a gardener-priest, tending the sanctuary of God’s dwelling.

And what’s more, the materials and decor of the tabernacle reinforced this return-to-Eden theme. Gold, onyx, and bdellium (Exodus 25:3–7) were the very materials named in Eden’s topography (Genesis 2:11–12). The walls and curtains were embroidered with palm trees and cherubim (Exodus 26:1; 1 Kings 6:29), wrapping the tent in all kinds of Edenic imagery. The bread of the presence sat in the Holy Place as a symbolic meal, just as Adam and Eve had full access to every tree except one. The incense altar reminded them of the fragrant offerings of a holy life, like the garden abounding in pleasant aromas as they dwelled in the presence of Yah.

The tabernacle was not a random Jewish building with funny architecture and furniture. It was a human building that symbolized the return to paradise. It was an architectural promise that one day, God would restore what was lost in Eden, and everyone would be blessed by it. It declared that restoration sermon in its wood and gold, in its curtains and cherubs, and was a perpetual reminder that God was not finished with His plan. He had not abandoned His people to wander in the wilderness of their exile forever. He was rebuilding Eden, one tent peg at a time, one candle at a time, one tribe at a time, one Sabbath at a time. And in the heart of that tent, behind the veil, where two cherubim with flaming swords were sewn into fabric, the presence of God hovered again—just as He had walked with man in the garden.

So when we think of the tabernacle, we must not picture a primitive desert structure. We must see a sacred garden, filled with the signs of life, guarded by angelic cherubim, tended by Adamic priests, and centered around the divine presence of God. The tabernacle was Eden reborn—imperfect and anticipatory, yes—but dripping with the hope that one day, the true temple would come. One not made with hands. One not built by Moses or Solomon. One that would walk among us. One that would be torn down and raised again in three days never to be torn down again.

But for now, as we walk through the shadowed veil of Old Testament imagery, we are meant to feel the pull of home. The tabernacle was God's way of reminding His people: Eden is not lost forever. I am bringing it back and you back into it.These are the same themes and imagery that also show up in the Jerusalem temple as well, where the tabernacle got a permanent Edenic home to tell this Gospel message until the messiah came.

In the temple, God was not imitating a new idea. Just like the tabernacle that preceded it, the temple was a physical, visible, multi sensory microcosm of what the world once was and what it is destined to become again. When Solomon built the temple in Jerusalem, he was told by God to intentionally position it to face Eastward (Genesis 2:8), just like the garden of Eden. And in the same way that God skinned an animal at the gates of Eden, to clothe His sinful people, every priest that served in the temple was called to skin and sacrifice animals, for the covering of God’s people, at the gates of the temple. And we could go line by line, examining every element, and under every one of them we would find a very obvious connection to God’s original Paradise dwelling with man. 

For instance, to walk deeper into the temple was to symbolically walk back into Eden—to retrace the steps Adam and his offspring forfeited. As the worshiper entered the outer courts, not yet inside of the garden temple, he would walk past the bronze sea, a vivid image of how the people of God would need to walk past the flood waters of Noah, if they were to ever get back in the Garden with God. The Bronze sea, filled with 12,000 gallons of water, represented the flood waters that drowned the world in judgment, but washed and cleansed the line of Adam. Like Noah, the priests would wash and be cleansed in the water, showing that God accepted them and drew a distinction with the pagans who were drowned, so that the priest could continue his emblematic journey back towards the inner sanctum of Eden. 

But the deeper you went, the more it looked like Eden.

When the priest stepped through the veil into the Holy Place, which was the first room inside the temple building, the noise of the outer court was muffled. The air was thickened with incense. The gold-covered walls reflected soft flickers of firelight, echoing the firmament's glow. And all around, carved into the wooden panels, were pomegranates, lilies, palm trees, gourds—flourishing flora drawn straight from the garden. The sanctuary wasn’t designed to resemble a palace or fortress, but a lush, fruitful garden. When the priest was inside, he would have felt like Eden had returned, under a roof and curtain. 

In that room stood the Table of the Presence, with twelve loaves arranged to recall God’s provision to the twelve tribes. There rose the golden Altar of Incense, offering up a fragrant cloud to veil the way forward, just as God’s presence once hovered over Israel and led them through cloud. And in that sacred space, one object above all declared the message most clearly: the golden lamp stand.

It wasn’t just a light source. It was a theological torch. The menorah, just like the lamp stand in the tabernacle, was shaped like an almond tree—seven branches, each tipped with an almond blossom, lit by oil that never ran dry. It was a stylized Tree of Life, not just illuminating the room, but preaching a sermon of redemption to the priests: that the presence of God still burns. The covenant still lives. The light has not been extinguished. The Garden is not gone. That lamp stand stood as the centerpiece of Eden-remembered and Eden-promised.

But the journey pressed onward.

Beyond the Holy Place lay the Most Holy Place, what we call the Holy of Holies. This room was sealed behind a veil—woven with threads of blue, purple, and scarlet, and embroidered with cherubim. Now, this is where we need to put on our thinking caps and remember where we first encounter Cherubim in the Bible. And where is that? Bingo. In the garden of Eden. After Adam and Eve sinned, God staged two Cherubs at the gate of Eden to keep Adam and Eve from returning back into the presence of God. So, when the priests saw this curtain, with two cherubim, with flaming swords, he was reminded that going back into the presence of God, into the holy of holies, was a dangerous act, that they needed the grace of God to even accomplish. Just as the cherubim were stationed in Eden, they show up in the temple, because the temple is an architectural Eden.

Now, when that man did move past it, which was only once per year, he was invited into the very throne room of Yahweh. The most Edenic, garden, habitat on earth. 

Inside that sacred chamber, there were no windows, no natural light. Just gold, God’s glory, and holy silence. Inside the room was a second set of enormous cherubim—carved from olive wood and overlaid with gold—stretching their wings from wall to wall, as if to say: this is where heaven touches earth. And atop the ark, a third set of two more smaller cherubim faced each other above the mercy seat, as if to remind those men that they were stepping into the garden of heaven. Now, lest we miss this detail, there were Six angels in all—three sets of two angles, which should remind us of how God uses amplification in the Bible. If “holy holy holy” is the highest expression of holiness in the Bible, then 3 sets of warrior angles should alert us that this is the highest and purest version of Eden this side of Havilah. 

And that brings us to the point. The point was not necessarily the building. The point was not the furniture. All of that existed to point to the point, which was life in the presence of God. That is what the garden was all about, that is what the temple is pointing to, but outside of Eden, that relationship no longer comes easy, now it comes with all kinds of difficulty and dangers for the one who would travel in. The presence of God could not be trifled with east of Eden. When Adam let the serpent into the garden, judgment fell. And that fundamentally changed the entire landscape of the world and what tempting and tabernacling would mean going forward. 

That is, until the one came who would tear the veil and restore Eden again… And, in Revelation 1, John sees that very man standing among the lampstands, which is so clearly temple language. But, instead of a building in Jerusalem, he sees the true temple (wrapped in flesh and blood — the Lord Jesus Christ—standing among the seven golden lamp stands, in garments that resembled Aaron’s high priestly robes in Exodus 28. What John was seeing was the real temple, the living breathing presence of God, that every curtain pointed to, thatevery lamp stand flickered toward, and every carved pomegranate whispered His name.

John was seeing the temple and the garden of Eden restored in one fell swoop, with Jesus as the new Adam, Gardener-King, tending the sanctuary of God—not with symbolic rituals, but with divine authority He won on the cross. Perhaps this is why, as soon as He rose from the dead, the first person that saw Him thought He was a gardener, because He is and was! He is the gardening high priest. The one who will work, keep, till, and tend His garden, so that all of God’s people will be able to live, be blessed, and nourished, in the garden presence of God. But, there are some questions we ought ask before the matter is settled. 

And that leads us to part 2!

PART 2: THE LAMP STANDS ARE THE CHURCHES

In Revelation 1, John sees Jesus, the High Priest is dressed for glory, wrapped in linen and girded with gold. His eyes flash like lightning. His face blazes like the sun. His voice roars like rushing waters. But here is the only problem… He’s not inside the temple.

This would have been profoundly jarring for John and any other Jew who head of this vision.

Now, I want you to remember that John was no stranger to priestly service. His family was a priestly family, and he himself was deeply entrenched in temple life and imagery (cf. John 18:15–16). As a result, he knew the sacred architecture and furniture of it all pretty well. He knew that priests didn’t just wear these garments anywhere. They were reserved for the inner sanctum—the Holy Place and the Holy of Holies. To see a priest outside the temple in full attire would have been like seeing a an offensive lineman in full pads strolling through the produce aisle. It would have looked more than a little out of place.

And yet, that is precisely what John must have been feeling. 

Even more striking, John doesn’t just see Jesus beside a single lamp stand—He sees Him among seven. This would have been another strange and bewildering aspect of his vision, because In the temple, there was only one. Now, John is seeing Jesus in a kind of forest of lampstands, which may not have made a lot of sense at first to John. He was used to the single golden menorah that lit up the Holy Place, symbolizing the light of God's presence shining out from a single, and very Jewish, nation. But in Revelation, there are seven lamp stands shining, meaning that God - at a minimum - has sanctioned more furniture for His temple. 

And here is another curious part. This vision did not happen in Jerusalem. It happened in modern day Turkey, which no Jew could have ever conceived of happening. In this way, the high priest was dressed for service in a gentile nation, without the physical temple, but with now an orchard of lampstands that He is tending. What can all of this mean? 

Well, I think it is plain and clear that this High Priest is no longer confined to the stone-and-gold structure of Jerusalem. He is not ministering in shadows anymore. The curtain has been torn. The veil has been removed. The garden of God’s presence has grown outside the borders of Jerusalem. The light has spread into dark places. And now, the true temple is on the move, even though the dusty empty building remained behind in Judea.

And, like a true high priest who would tend the lamp stand and make sure the light does not go out inside the holy place, Jesus is walking among His lamp stands like a master gardener —cultivating them, trimming them, kindling the flame, so that His light shines all the brighter. But, unlike the Holy place, there is no more walls to dull the advance of the light. Now, with seven times more light and no curtains, veils, or acacia wood, the light will go forth into all the world to bring God’s glory to the nations. 

So, just for clarity sake, let me show you what we have learned so far. We have seen how Jesus is the true High Priest, how He is the one and only gardener, who will bring God’s tempting presence back to man, by ending the days of the Jerusalem temple, and beginning the days when God’s tempting presence comes to the gentiles all over the earth. Now that we have seen that, we need to know what these lamp stands are. What do the symbols represent. And thankfully, Jesus Himself tells us. 

Revelation 1:20 says:

“The seven lampstands are the seven churches.”

So, in Jesus’ new and better temple, He is not going to use inanimate objects any longer like altars, candles, gold, and wood. He is going to transform God’s people into living candleabras, that shine forth the glory of GOd. This means that Ephesus, Smyrna, Pergamum, Thyatira, Sardis, Philadelphia, and Laodicea— are not just churches, they are spotlights for the advancing light of God, that is no longer contained in a darkened room, but is exploding into all the earth! This means, these are real active congregations, in real cities, who are burning in the midst of a pagan empire for Jesus. They are embattled, weather-worn, and strategically placed by divine design so that His light can flood the world with God’s glory!

And, speaking of this, those 7 cities are not chosen by accident. 

These seven churches form a clockwise circuit along the imperial postal road of Asia Minor. From the bustling port of Ephesus (the first city you would come to) to the decadent corridors of Laodicea, they form a prophetic constellation—a sacred circuitry of covenant light stretched across a dark and hostile world. And there order and arrangement are most certainly intentional. 

For centuries, Israel was called to be the light of the world—the city on a hill, the kingdom of priests, the nation through whom God would bless all nations with His light (Exodus 19:6; Isaiah 42:6). But she refused. She hoarded the holiness of God. She buried her lamp under the bushel of legalism and ethnic superiority. She built walls of separation instead of bridges of grace. And now, in Revelation 1, the torch has passed.

The lamp stand has not been extinguished—Yahweh has relocated it and is not lighting up the Gentile world.

This tells us much, but it most certainly reminds us that by the time John receives this vision, the temple in Jerusalem is a hollowed-out corpse that no longer serves a purpose. Like a restaurant closed down and condemned by the city for health code violations, sits empty until its demolition, the Herodian temple sat condemned waiting for the Romans to light the dynamite that would demolish it. The priesthood was corrupted. The ark was gone. The veil was torn. The cherubim had vacated their post. The glory had long departed. Ichabod has been fulfilled on that temple. But, as we see, the fire that once radiated it has not died. It has simply changed locations and been magnified into a world wide church, who would be the new lamp stands in God’s temple. This means the Church would become the blazing beacon of God. The Church would be the light in the tabernacle of God and men. And, buy God’s own design, the church was not meant to flicker inconspicuously at the margins of redemptive history—she was set on a major highway, at the center of the Roman Empire, so that God’s light would eventually invade the entire world. 

This is why Jesus said in Matthew 5, “You are the light of the world… a lamp on a stand… giving light to all in the house.” And that house is no longer confined to Israel—it is the world.

These churches are that lamp stand—burning with covenant fire. They are Philippians 2:15 in living motion—where Paul told us as believers that we are to be “shining as lights in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation.” These seven churches represent all of us. Not just 7. But God’s complete number of elect people, scattered to the ends of the earth, to blanket the world darkened in sin, with His glorious Gospel light!  are not the remnant. And that light will never retreat or dwindle.

And that brings us to a really important question..  How can we know that this light will never be snuffed out? To answer that question, let us go now to PART 3. 

PART 3: THE PRIESTLY PRESENCE OF JESUS

In John’s vision, the lamp stands are not in charge, they have no authority on their own, and they certainly do not keep themselves burning. They do not kindle themselves or survive on their religiosity. Every one of them is intentionally lit and kept burning by the priest. Every wick is sovereignly trimmed. Behind every church, there is a Keeper of the Light.

John does not merely see lamp stands in his vision. He sees someone walking among them.

He sees the one dressed for service as a priest. The one that Hebrews 7 says, “always lives to make intercession.” Or as Hebrews 8 says, He is the forever “minister in the sanctuary… which the Lord pitched, not man.” His priesthood is not past and it is not waiting to begin at some point in the future. Jesus’ priesthood is perpetual. And the sanctuary He ministers in is not made with bricks but with the bodies of all God’s elect, that were bought and paid for by the Son, and indwelled by the Spirit. 

This Jesus is not observing His Church from afar. He is moving among her, which means He is actively mediating, tending, inspecting, and evaluating her. And that is both comforting and terrifying.

Just as Aaron tended the golden menorah in Exodus 30—trimming the wicks, refueling the oil, ensuring the light never went out—Christ now fulfills that task in a greater temple. But unlike Aaron, He does not enter once in the morning and once in the evening. He never leaves. His priestly inspection is constant. His presence is unceasing. That is how the lights, the church, keeps shining, because Jesus is ever tending her! 

He walks with oil in His hands—the Spirit of God poured out upon His people. He walks with the knife of the Word, coming out of His mouth, cutting away the rot and decay. He walks with the breath of heaven—fanning into flame or snuffing out what no longer bears fruit.

That is why He warns Ephesus in Revelation 2:5, “If you do not repent, I will come and remove your lamp stand.” This is not hyperbole. This is evidence of His priestly authority. He alone keeps the fire lit in His people, and He alone can snuff out any lamp stands that no longer flicker with His glory! In this way, a lamp stands remain only if it remains in service to him. And this truth should reshape our entire ecclesiology, which is the doctrine of the church. 

Instead of viewing the Church as a building or even as a sociological phenomenon, we need to learn to see her as the sanctuary of God—a Spirit-indwelt temple made of living stones, ordered by Word and Sacrament, governed by ordained elders, ablaze with heaven’s fire, and called to fill the world with the light of God. Her worship is not entertainment—it is incense. Her mission is not survival—it is expansion. Her essence is not cultural—it is covenantal. She is the holy place of God’s new garden temple.

And what John is about to witness in Revelation 2–3 is not a parenthesis in the book. Revelation 2-3 is a priestly inspection. Christ will come and inspect each of His lamp stands, with fire in His eyes and a sword in His mouth. He will commend. He will rebuke. He will threaten. He will promise. Because that’s what the Priest does among the lamp stands. He works, tends, and keeps them.

What Isaiah foresaw all of those years ago is finally happening:

“In the last days, the mountain of the Lord’s house will be established... and all nations will stream to it” (Isa. 2:2–4).

What Ezekiel envisioned is beginning: A temple with rivers of life flowing to the nations (Ezek. 47). What Malachi thundered is being fulfilled:

“In every place incense will be offered to My name” (Mal. 1:11).

John sees it. Right here. Right now. Jesus among the Gentile flames. The garden is regrowing. The temple is expanding. The lamp stands are multiplying. The fire is growing and it will not go out. Not from a rapture. Not from an antichrist. Not from a mark of any beasts. None of that. Jesus began a church 2000 years ago that WILL NEVER BE SNUFFED OUT. His ministry as priest ensures it. 

And that leads us to PART 4

PART 4: THE SEVEN STARS ARE PASTORS

If Christ is among the lamp stands—if He walks among them as Priest, with oil in His hands and a sword in His mouth—then we must ask: What kind of flame is He tending? What kind of light does He demand from His churches? Because, the church is not the light, she is only the lamp stand. So, I think it is fair to ask, what kind of light is He cultivating? What fire imperishable will He place upon the lamp stand of the church? And it is here that we see that this light is Christ Himself. He is the light of the world. And if she ever forgets that, she forfeits everything.

This is why Jesus warned the Ephesian church in Revelation 2:5: “If you do not repent, I will come and remove your lamp stand out of its place.” He does not threaten to remove the light. He threatens to remove a lamp stand that no longer has the light of Jesus. And this is not an idle threat… He has made good on it many times throughout history. When a church stops singing for Jesus. When its lamp stand is left empty. Jesus will remove it. Not because He is cruel. But because He is holy. Because He will not allow a crooked witness to bear His name. He does not hang His glory on a rotting beam. He removes what no longer reflects Him. Jesus is not desperate to keep churches open. He is committed to keeping His glory and light forever pure.

And so we must tremble at what it means to be a lamp stand. It means to be a church defined by the witness of Scripture—and not worship trends. It means to shine with truth—not shimmer with compromise. It means to hold the light of Christ in such high esteem, that nothing could ever sway us away from its holy beams. This is what Israel was called to be. A city on a hill. A lamp that gives light to the world. A kingdom of priests and a holy nation. But she forsook the light, and clung to an empty lamp stand, all the way to her bitter end, where Christ snuffed her our and extinguished her forever.

Today we know that the tomb did not snuff out the Flame of Christ. The grave could not seal His shekinah Glory. We know that this light rescued us from the realm of darkness and brought us into a Kingdom of dazzling light. We know that He has called us to shine in the darkness (as a lamp stand) and how the darkness cannot overcome His priestly work. And we know that the Church in her doctrine, in her worship, in her fellowship, in her preaching, sacraments, and mission, bring that light to a world that is still asleep in shadows. And when she burns brightly, the nations see Him. When she burns purely, the idols of this world are shattered. When she burns continually, the darkness cannot hold, but flees in a thousand directions. 

In this way, the church must burn with holy fire. Not with entertainment. Not with stupid childish innovations. Not cultural relevance. She must burn with the oil of the Spirit of God, the flame of the living Word, the incense of prayer, and the heat of holiness. She must refuse the artificial light of humanism, pragmatism, and emotional manipulation, which is nothing more than a strange fire on the altar of God. She is to be a true lamp stand, not one who fills stadiums, but one who shines truly for Christ. 

That’s why He said in Matthew 5: “You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor does anyone light a lamp and put it under a basket… but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house.” The Church is that lampstand. Not to blend in. But to stand out. Not to echo the world. But to expose it. As Ephesians 5:13 declares, “All things become visible when they are exposed by the light, for everything that becomes visible is light.”

This is why demons hate the Church. Not because of a music style. Not because of a building style. Not because of architecture! The principalities and powers do not tremble over potlucks and podcasts. They hate us because we are the lamp stand that elevates the Light of God! They hate the pulpit that declares the full counsel of God. They hate  elders who govern with strength and integrity. They hate fathers who catechize their children and women who adorn themselves with modesty. They hate churches that love the truth, discipline sin, practice holiness, and raise the dead through gospel preaching. They hate the fire of Jesus Christ and the Church because we magnify it! . Because fire reveals. Fire purifies. And fire spreads.

And that leads us to our conclusion!

CONCLUSION

This is not the end of the vision. It is the beginning of the war. When John turned to see the voice, he did not see a battlefield. He did not see angels in formation or demons on the horizon. He saw lampstands. Because the first battle is always about the Church. Before Christ judges the nations, He purifies His people. Before He brings fire upon Babylon, He brings fire to His own house. Judgment begins at the household of God. And that judgment begins with inspection, with correction, and—if needed—with removal.

But don’t miss the hope. This is not a message of despair. It is a message of glory. Jesus is not pacing the heavens in frustration. He is walking among His lampstands with sovereign precision. He is not wringing His hands—He is trimming the wicks. He is not begging the Church to shine—He is causing her to shine. Because the lampstands belong to Him. And He will not lose what He bled to claim.

This is the power of the vision. Not that the Church is perfect—but that she is His. Not that the Church cannot fail—but that Christ cannot. Not that the Church always burns brightly—but that Christ is always tending the flame.

The days ahead will not be easy. There will be more persecution. More apostasy. More counterfeit churches. There will be lampstands that are removed and wolves that are revealed. There will be compromise that masquerades as love and cowardice that parades as humility. There will be fire.

But the flame will not fail. Because the One who walks among the lampstands is not a distant King or a powerless Savior. He is the risen Lord. He is the Priest of the greater temple. He is the Light of the world who now shines in His people. And of the increase of His government and of His peace, there will be no end.

So do not fear the darkness. Do not fear the schemes of Satan, the decline of culture, the rise of false prophets, or the scorn of the world. Fear the One who walks among the lampstands. Fear the One whose eyes are like fire, whose voice shakes the earth, and whose robe is soaked in glory. Fear Him—and shine for Him.

Because the flame is not going out. Not now. Not ever. Not while He walks among us.