Sometime back we heard the story of the man who eventually gave in and answered the door because his neighbor was persistent in knocking and calling out for bread. Today the story is different – once the master locks the door there is no turning back. We hear: “I don’t know you – depart from me!” This parable is a message to those who have read Scripture, donned their “church clothes” every Sunday, sung the hymns, dropped money in the collection baskets in church and listened for years to sermons about Jesus without developing a personal relationship with Him. Somehow the routines seem to fill their need for reassurance. Because they have been “faithful” in coming to church, they feel that they have secured a place in heaven. What a distortion of the message that Jesus delivered. He’s tried, in various ways to tell the His followers to be wary of having too much religion and too little relationship with Jesus.
The world today is just as confused as the Jews of Jesus’ time about how one gets to heaven. There is a growing tendency to believe if a person is generally good and does good things for others during their lifetime, they will earn a place in Heaven.
Jesus does not imply that there is a specific route by which one must enter heaven. He does mention a gate that is narrow and difficult to enter. Because the gate is narrow, we must pass through one at a time. But we will not get into heaven on someone else’s coat tails. Each one will answer to God for herself. Jesus tells the us how to be saved: enter through the narrow gate, be strong when you knock, make certain that the Lord knows you, have meals together (the Eucharist), make friends with the prophets, associate with people from every corner of the world and don’t be concerned with where you are in line or at the table. Jesus expands the picture for us when He says that people will come from the east and the west, the north and the south.
And He bids us come and recline at the table. That’s not a typical image of us in church, is it? How could it be when our parents, or the good Sisters, poked us on the shoulder to remind us to kneel up straight, get your butt off the seat… Jesus, says come, recline at my table. One of our challenges is to reserve a “table” where we can go to dine and converse with our most intimate friend, our God. In spirit we “recline” stretch out, (remember, you have to fit through that narrow gate), We can tilt back, sprawl, loll in the Divine Presence. We recline with surety that our Host will recognize our voice because we’ve made a daily practice of “communing” with Him. We need not have any concern for rank or place because He has promised: I will know your voice, I know where you are from, and I will open the door for you.
~Reflection by Sister Roberta Bailey, OSB
