Luke 3:17 – “His winnowing fork is in his hand to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his barn, but he will burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire.”
Matthew 7:21-23 – “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven… Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!’”
Revelation 3:14-16 – “I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth.”
These verses aren’t aimed at atheists. They’re not for people who reject God outright. They’re for us—those who claim to know Him. Those who say, “Lord, Lord.”
Jesus often reserved His harshest warnings for the religious. He called the Pharisees a brood of vipers. He chastised Nicodemus—a Sanhedrin member—for not understanding what it meant to be born again. So what makes us think His warnings don’t apply to our churches?
Revelation 3 isn’t a “come to Jesus” altar call—it’s a “return to Jesus” cry aimed at a dead church. Hot water has value. Cold water refreshes. Lukewarm? It gets spit out. It’s not useful for anything.
So yes—these warnings are for the church. For the people who say, “I know Jesus.” But do you really? The word Jesus uses in Matthew 7:23 is γινώσκω (ginōskō). It doesn’t mean, “I’ve heard of you.” It’s not about recognition or surface-level faith. It’s the word used to describe deep, personal, intimate knowledge. The same verb often used in Scripture to refer to the act of marital union—“Adam knew Eve.”
That’s the kind of relationship Christ wants—not fans in the stands, but disciples in the field. Not people who checked a salvation box, but people who were transformed, discipled, and sent.
There’s a well-worn truth in church life: 10% of the people do 90% of the work. And many in that 90% think they’re fine because they show up, said a prayer once, or avoid the “big sins.” But they remain unchanged. And true saving faith always changes you.
Here’s the part that should really shake us: on judgment day, many will say, “But I sang on the worship team!” “I taught Sunday School!” “I gave to the poor!” And Jesus will respond—not “I forgot you,” but “I never γινώσκω’d you.” Never knew you at all.
And that man or woman you silently judged—the one with the tattoos, or the one who struggles, or the one you thought was beneath you? They may walk into eternity to a “Well done, good and faithful servant,” while others are left stunned outside the gate.
Let that sink in.
Rooted & Reckoned 