Strive to enter through the narrow door; for many, I tell you, will try to enter and will not be able. When once the owner of the house has got up and shut the door, and you begin to stand outside and to knock at the door, saying, 'Lord, open to us,' then in reply he will say to you, 'I do not know where you come from.' ... Luke 13:24-25
I am the door. Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture ... John 10:9
During a recent visit to the medieval art section (my favorite section) of the Philadelphia Museum of Art, I spent some time reflecting on a great stone archway that was originally at the entrance to the 12th century church at the Abbey of St. Laurent in France. It is interesting to note that, judging from the photograph of the church under the portal, this entrance to the church was the largest and most ornate feature of the entire church. Otherwise, the exterior of the entire church structure looked relatively simple, so that the eye (and the body) is drawn to the portal, making it an important symbolic and theological statement about the importance of church doors.
This kind of grand, artistic portal or archway was common to medieval churches. In a more literal sense the door to the church (any church) is an access to worship God in the sure and certain signs given to us in the cross, font, table, and Word. But in a more symbolic sense, the door is Jesus Christ himself. Luke warns that this door is narrow, and that at some point it will even be closed, and though John lacks the warning, it is clear in his gospel that that the door (both literally and symbolically) has important implications to our faith. With such great theological significance given to the church door, it is easy to understand why the St. Laurent portal (and any church portal) would be made as grand and ornate as it was for such a simple church.
In concrete terms, the door to the church is obviously both an entrance and an exit. However, theologically, Jesus' words in the Gospel according to John about coming in and going out and finding pasture change our perspective to see the door to the sanctuary or church as both an entrance and an entrance. The door is an entrance into the kingdom of God; the door is an entrance into the world. Christians are always entering one or the other. We enter worship to be strengthened and made whole by the sure and certain signs of God's grace, but we always are called out from there to enter the world, taking that certainty of the kingdom of God with us. This is the continual movement of Christian vocation---always entering, never exiting.
Though Abiding Presence Church doesn't have a grand ornate stone archway as its main entrance like St. Laurent and other medieval churches, we do have some pretty remarkable artistic reminders that we are entering something important, either coming in or going out. The font at the door assures us that we are claimed and marked by God, and as we lift our eyes from the water they meet the cross suspended over the table at which we feast on the body and blood of Jesus Christ. We enter these doors to celebrate and be strengthened through these things; we enter these doors again to take these things to the world, wherever and however we are called to gather the fold as disciples of the Risen Lord.
Lord God, you have called your servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, through perils unknown. Give us faith to go out with good courage, not knowing where we go, but only that your hand is leading us and your love supporting us; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen
(LBW, p.153)
Contributed by Pastor Joel
Published Sunday October 16, 2005
Week 47 of Liturgical Year A