Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me.” Revelation 3:20

 

In St. Paul’s Cathedral in London is a painting done by the artist, Holman Hunt, often reproduced in Sunday School literature, which shows Jesus standing at the door of an English cottage, a lantern held in one hand, gently knocking at the door. It is based on the words of Jesus recorded in Revelation 3:20, which say, “Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me.”

 

When the German theologian, Karl Barth, visited the Cathedral and saw the painting, he commented, “That wasn’t the way it was with me.” He said, “I had the furniture piled against the door desperately trying to keep him out, but he came in anyway and took me captive.”

 

In the Upper Room, Jesus told His disciples, “You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit–fruit that will last. Then the Father will give you whatever you ask in my name” (John 15:16).

 

Writing to the Ephesians, Paul told them that they had been chosen before the foundation of the world, yet… and this is where we can relate to what Karl Barth said: our old nature wars against God and makes us want to pile the furniture against the door of our heart to keep Him from coming in.

 

Why do we pile the furniture against that door, striving to keep Him at a safe distance (so we think)?   Probably more than anything else, it is fear. Before we really know Christ, we are afraid that God may want us to drink vinegar, wear black, and to never smile. That’s the image we often have before we become followers of Jesus Christ. But it isn’t the way Jesus was when He walked with the disciples, nor is it the picture of the men and women I know who enjoy life with a dimension they never knew before they followed Jesus Christ.

 

Another piece of furniture which blocks the door of our hearts is pride. Have you ever noticed that the letter “i” is in the middle of our word sin? And it is willful, stubborn pride which often keeps us from bending the knee to acknowledge our need of a relationship with God through His Son.

 

There’s another piece of furniture which often blocks the door of our hearts. It is our refusal to acknowledge our need of God. Another label could be “comparative analysis.” And what’s that? That’s what you do when you look at your life and say, “I’m not nearly as bad as some of those people who go to church. I don’t need God.” You remind me of a man in the cancer ward of a hospital who looks at someone else and says, “I’m not as bad as that guy.”

 

May I ask you, what baggage, like Karl Barth, have you piled against the door of your heart? A closing thought: I mentioned the painting in St. Paul’s Cathedral, the one depicting Christ’s standing outside the door of a cottage, knocking. On a certain occasion a woman came to the Cathedral and stood before the painting, scrutinizing it carefully, noticing every detail.

 

Then she sought out the artist and said, “Mr. Hunt, I like your painting very much, but there is something missing. On the outside of the door, there is no latch or handle.”

“Yes,” replied the artist, telling her that this was not an oversight. “When Christ knocks on the door of your heart,” he explained, “only you can open the door from within.” Yes, indeed.

 

May I suggest that you get rid of the furniture piled against the door of your heart, and open it wide. He will meet you with open arms, forgive you, and change your life. Opening that door will not only change your present life – but will give you hope of eternal life. And ultimately open the door of heaven.

 

Resource reading: John 10.