When God Comes Knocking

 He who has not Christmas in his heart will never find it under a tree. Roy L. Smith

There is a tale of a man who found himself standing outside a massive wall and a single door. Beyond them was the kingdom of heaven. The man knocked on the door, but there was no answer. As he walked along the wall looking for a way in or through, he noticed other people entering through the door, but it was always closed by the time he’d get back to it. He sat beside the door for days, and eventually for years. Each day he would rise and knock, but nobody would answer. Whether he stood by the door or sat by it, others would come and go, and yet the door was always closed before he could reach it, and no one would answer, no matter how long, hard, or persistently he knocked. And yet, never did a day go by where he did not rise and knock, despite the seeming futility of the act.

Have you ever seen one of those drawings that seem to be one thing, and yet if you look carefully, you see something else? The first example that comes to mind is the drawing of a vase, and upon second view what you thought was a vase is actually the outline of two faces staring at one another. Or the drawing of a young lady in a hat facing away that, upon closer examination, becomes a wrinkled old woman facing forward.

When I first heard the story above, I found it alternatingly frustrating and delightful. It is frustrating in that the protagonist wants to get into heaven, but can’t. It seems like God’s not listening. That’s terrible! On the other hand, there is the delightful persistence of the person who is seemingly content to rise each day and knock on heaven’s door. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? It’s not our door; it belongs to God. We don’t have the key; God IS the key. So we knock.

As a problem solver, I’ll confess that when I first heard the story I just shrugged my shoulders and said, “Well, if it were me, I’d just go around the corner and use the Servant’s Entrance.”

I thought more about the story; it wouldn’t let go of me. Something in the tale nagged and nibbled on the back of my mind until a different picture emerged. What if that story isn’t about a man – about us – but about God? What if it is a story about God standing beside the door to the kingdom of heaven – but not one “high in the sky in the great by and by,” but one that resides in you, me, and every other creature here-abouts? What if it is God seeking entry into the kingdom we call “our heart,” but which is really God’s heart – a heart that belongs to God?

There is a famous painting from the Gerffert Collection of Jesus standing beside a door. Jesus holds a lantern and knocks on a door that has no handle or knob. It is latched on the inside, and it is up to those who reside within to open the door and let him in. 

I confess I often struggle to hear God knocking at the door to my heart day by day. I don’t believe God ever comes in once and stays. God has work to do, errands to run, life to manage, and I think part of that thing we call the love of God requires our listening for God’s daily knocking at the door so we can open up and share with one another our thoughts and dreams, adventures, misadventures, frustrations and delights fresh each day, just as we do with all those whom we love.

God knocks. That’s a miracle. This week, God knocks as a migrant family with an overly pregnant woman whose water has just broken. Will we hear the knock at the door? Will we open the door? Will we make room for God to be born under our roof, and under the shelter of our wing? That’s the question we face at Christmas, and each and every day here in this, our valley. Merry Christmas!

Keith Axberg writes on matters concerning life and faith. Author of newly released: Who the Blazes is Jesus? Good News for a Vulgar World (available through Amazon in Print and e-book)