Heard On Sunday - The Church That Lost Its First Love: A Journey Back to Passionate Faith

(6 minute read)
In the ancient city of Ephesus, a remarkable congregation once thrived. By all outward appearances, this church was exemplary—doctrinally sound, morally pure, and tireless in their work for the kingdom. They refused to tolerate false teachers, they tested those who claimed apostolic authority, and they stood firm against cultural pressures that would have compromised their faith (Revelation 2:2-3, 6). Yet despite all these commendable qualities, they received a sobering message: "I have this against you, that you have abandoned the love you had at first" (Revelation 2:4).

This paradox presents one of the most haunting possibilities for any community of faith—the danger of doing all the right things for all the wrong reasons.

The Peril of Passion Lost

Imagine a marriage where one spouse looks at the other and says, "I don't love you anymore." The words cut deep, not because they signal a sudden catastrophe, but because they reveal what has been slowly eroding over time. Love rarely disappears in a moment; it fades gradually, imperceptibly, until one day you wake up and realize the fire has gone out.

The Ephesian church found themselves in precisely this spiritual condition. They had inherited an incredible legacy—founded and nurtured by the apostle Paul (Acts 19), strengthened by Timothy (1 Timothy 1:3), and guided by John himself. These spiritual giants had poured into this congregation, establishing them in truth and equipping them for ministry. Yet somewhere along the journey from the first generation to the third, something essential had been lost.

They still performed their religious duties. They still maintained doctrinal purity. They still resisted evil and exposed false teaching. But the passionate devotion that once characterized their faith had cooled into cold orthodoxy. They had become spiritual technicians rather than devoted lovers of Christ.

The Difference Between Legalism and Love

There exists a profound difference between two approaches to faith: "I obey so Jesus accepts me" versus "Jesus accepts me, so I gladly obey" (Galatians 3:3). The former is the path of legalism—an exhausting treadmill of religious performance aimed at earning divine favor. The latter is the response of gratitude—joyful obedience flowing from the security of already being loved and accepted (1 John 4:19).

The Ephesians had drifted toward the former. They had become what we might call "do-nothing pietists"—people who do all the right things but have lost the heart connection that makes those actions meaningful. They were in danger of becoming like the Pharisees Jesus criticized—externally righteous but internally cold (Matthew 23:27).

This is why good theology matters so deeply. Good theology transforms lives; bad theology wrecks them (1 Timothy 4:16). The Ephesians had excellent theology, but they had somehow separated head knowledge from heart devotion. They had become all doctrine and no affection, all orthodoxy and no passion.

The Divine Diagnosis

The One who walks among the lampstands, who holds the stars in His right hand, sees everything. His eyes are like flames of fire, penetrating through external appearances to examine the heart (Revelation 1:13-14, 16, 20). And what He saw in Ephesus grieved Him.

"I know your works, your toil, and your patient endurance," He acknowledged (Revelation 2:2-3). The commendation was genuine—they were doing much that was praiseworthy. They had endured persecution, economic hardship, and social ostracism rather than compromise their convictions. They had remained faithful through trials that would have broken lesser communities.

But then came the devastating words: "I have this against you" (Revelation 2:4).

The diagnosis was clear: they had forsaken their first love. That initial enthusiasm, that cage-stage passion, that overwhelming joy of salvation—it had waned. They could no longer sing "every day with Jesus is sweeter than the day before" because it simply wasn't true anymore. They were going through the motions, and Christ knew it.

The Threefold Remedy

Remarkably, the diagnosis came with a prescription. The condition was critical but not hopeless. Three steps would lead them back to spiritual vitality:

Remember. Go back to where you first fell in love. Recall the moment when grace broke through and everything changed. Remember when knowing Christ was the only thing that mattered, when His love overwhelmed every other concern (Revelation 2:5).

Repent. Undergo a genuine change of heart and mind. Confess the sin of spiritual indifference. Acknowledge the religious moralism that has replaced genuine devotion. Feel contrition not just intellectually but emotionally. And then—this is crucial—actually change. Repentance without transformation isn't really repentance at all (Matthew 3:8, Acts 3:19).

Return. Do the works you did at first, but do them with the right heart. Go back to that place where you first understood you were loved not because you deserved it but simply because of grace (Revelation 2:5). Return to the foot of the cross where love was first kindled.

For most believers, the place where we first fell in love with Jesus is at the cross—that place where we understood the depth of our sin and the greater depth of His love. Returning to first love means returning again and again to Calvary, allowing the reality of what happened there to overwhelm us with gratitude.

The Promise to Overcomers

The message concludes with a magnificent promise: "To the one who conquers, I will grant to eat of the tree of life, which is in the paradise of God" (Revelation 2:7).

This promise connects the beginning of Scripture with its end, linking Genesis with Revelation. What Adam and Eve forfeited through disobedience (Genesis 3:22-24), Christ has regained through His victory (1 Corinthians 15:22, 45). The tree of life, barred to humanity after the fall, becomes accessible again through the second Adam who succeeded where the first Adam failed.

Paradise isn't just a future hope—it begins now. Yes, we live in a fallen world, but those who belong to Christ experience an aroma of heaven even in the present (Philippians 1:21-23). The abundant life Jesus promised starts the moment we surrender to Him, not at some distant future point (John 10:10).

The victory is assured for those who persevere, who remain determined in their faith, who refuse to let their love grow cold. Nothing can separate us from the love of Christ when we remain connected to Him (Romans 8:35-39). We are more than conquerors—super-conquerors—through Him who loved us.

A Mirror for Today

The Ephesian church serves as a mirror for every generation of believers. How easy it is to substitute activity for affection, to replace passion with performance, to maintain external righteousness while losing internal devotion.

Consider these diagnostic questions: What occupies your thoughts? What dominates your conversations? What genuinely excites you? Where does your money go? The answers reveal what you truly love (Matthew 6:21).

The warning is sobering: a church that loses its first love will eventually lose its lampstand (Revelation 2:5). It will cease to shine as a beacon in the darkness. The ruins of ancient Ephesus stand as a silent testimony to this reality.

But the invitation remains open: Return. Remember. Repent. Rekindle the flame. The One who walks among the churches still calls His people back to passionate, wholehearted devotion.

After all, He wants not just our obedience but our affection. He desires not just our service but our hearts. And the promise stands: those who return to first love will feast forever at the tree of life in the paradise of God (Revelation 2:7).

The question is simply this: Will you accept the invitation?