Door to Nowhere

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When my 74 year old cottage got new windows a year ago, we came around to the back of the house and decided to substitute a door for one of the windows. It seemed crazy, since there was nothing but thin air on the other side, no porch, stairway or other surface for feet to stand on, but we hoped one day to build a deck there.

If anyone were to sleepwalk through that door, they’d either wake up during their rapid descent or go unconscious when they hit the concrete 12 feet below. For now, though, we’re careful to keep the door closed and double-locked.

Nobody likes to have doors closed against them. Our kids, grandkids and even Jack have fervently wanted to open that door to nowhere and walk through it. I guess we all view an open door as a symbol of opportunity. To walk through it is to have an adventure.

Open doors are usually a good thing, like when a friend opens her home and invites us to “C’mon in!” Some churches even use the open door image as part of their name, The Church of the Open Door, hoping friends and strangers alike will all “C’mon in.”

Although we like doors to be open, sometimes walking through them leads us to places we don’t want to go – a dentist’s office, a hospital, a funeral home. But even then we walk through, knowing that what’s on the other side is important.

Some open doors have eternal significance. Jesus labeled himself “The Door” to eternal security. (John 10:9) He was trying to give his listeners a word picture of the most crucial door they could ever open, making sure they understood that he was the way through to heaven. He also told them a knock on that door would cause it to open up, and he invited everyone to knock. (Matthew 7:7)

My favorite scriptural door, though, is the one mentioned toward the end of the Bible. God describes a door with the Lord on one side and us on the other. This time he’s the one knocking, and we’re the ones deciding whether or not to open up. He’s also using his voice to get our attention, hoping we’ll hear and open up. Incredibly he says that if we do, he’ll enter our lives. Not only that, but he promises to share a close relationship with us much like sharing a meal with those we love, in intimate fellowship.

Why does he have an interest in coming to us at all? When I’ve asked him, his answer has always been the same:

“Because I love you.”

So, unlike my cottage door to nowhere that’s closed and double-locked, I’ve swung wide the door to my life, and Jesus has come in.

“Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.” (Revelation 3:20)

Longing to Help

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Children love to do whatever we’re doing. They see it as helping. We see it as extra work for us. Once in a while, though, we need to make time for them to try.

Recently Skylar saw me spreading peanut butter on a rice cake and pleaded to do the same. I tried to hand her the one I’d already fixed, but she wanted to make it herself. Since grandmas love to say yes, I plunked her on the counter and gave her a knife, the PB, and a rice cake. Although she eventually got it done, her effort was clumsy at best.

When children try to do what we do, they approach the project feeling capable of accomplishing adult work with adult tools and getting adult results. In their minds, they bring sophisticated competence to every task and could take the place of any one of us.

God describes a spiritual parallel much like this. We come to him to “get saved” and he saves us. Then we promptly begin a program to “save ourselves,” after the fact, trying to earn our salvation. It makes no sense but is as common as children believing they’re as skilled as adults. In terms of our relationship with God, we’re as unable to help him as a young child is to help us.

Does God see our behavior the way I saw Skylar’s? He says, “I’ve done it already and am trying to hand you the finished product.” But we want to do it ourselves, just as Skylar did. From his perspective, our assistance toward getting saved is but a clumsy mishandling of the perfect gift he wants to give us.

As I watched Skylar’s small hands struggle to manipulate her adult-sized knife, I knew she was in a learning process. Experience was teaching her, and she would do a little bit better next time. But in the case of our salvation, no amount of trying, even with better and better effort, can get the job done. God has seen to it that everything’s already been done, through the death of his Son.

To put ourselves in the role of assistant to the Almighty is improper and, from his perspective, laughable. Of course in reality, there’s nothing funny about trying to make ourselves good enough for God. Actually, it’s the opposite of funny. It’s a serious mistake.

When Nate and I were raising our family and the children misbehaved, he would snap his fingers to get their attention and say, “Act right.” It’s a good command, and it’s something God is hoping all of us will do, all the time. But applying right deeds as credit toward salvation is like asking Skylar to spread PB on 500 rice cakes in 5 seconds. It can’t be done.

“At just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly.” (Romans 5:6)

Not All Bad (Continued from yesterday)

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Peter’s badly chosen comment at the moment of Christ’s revealed glory brought a screeching halt to the supernatural experience for him and his companions. When God instructed him to listen to Jesus, he and his fellow disciples fell to the ground in terror. After that, they didn’t hear a thing.

When they came to, it was all over. Jesus’ clothes had lost their brightness, and his shining face had returned to normal. Were Jesus’ purposes (in bringing Peter, James and John along) accomplished? We don’t know how long his face shone and his clothes were as lightning, but we do know he wanted these 3 men to see him that way. Did they learn anything?

Maybe since the crucifixion was soon to happen, he wanted them to get a glimpse of what would come after his suffering. Or maybe he wanted them to visualize that he was not merely the man they’d lived with but the God-man, deserving of God’s glory.

Though they didn’t listen well that day, they saw what Jesus wanted them to see. As for Peter hoping to hold onto Jesus, Moses and Elijah, his comment might not have been as nonsensical as it first seemed.

The whole incident reminded me of a poignant dream I had about Nate after he died. (One Year Ago: Part III and IV, Oct. 18 & 19, 2010) In the dream I knew Nate had entered a supernatural world, but when I saw him back on earth, I clung to him, just like Peter wanted to hold Jesus, Moses and Elijah. My emotions were burning with desire, and if I couldn’t keep Nate from leaving my world, I thought I might collapse.

Peter must have felt the same way. He was fervently attached to Jesus and sensed his teacher and friend would soon slip away. He might have made his 3-tents-statement hoping to prolong the moment and borrow time to think. He had no way of knowing what was ahead, how/when Jesus would leave the earth or if/when he’d be back.

Interestingly, Jesus didn’t resent Peter’s off-the-subject statement or his attempt to usurp the lead or even his failure to listen. Instead, after Moses and Elijah had gone, he approached all 3 of them and touched them tenderly, coaxing them up off the ground, away from fear, and back toward him. Although they’d missed virtually everything that had been said, they apparently got the drift enough to satisfy Jesus, because as they hiked back down the mountain, he told them to keep it all a secret.

Jesus knows we long for him. It’s even possible he sees our desire as an act of adoration and worship. If that’s the case, Peter’s outburst turns out to be a pretty good one after all.

Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here. If you wish, I will put up three shelters—one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah.”  (Matthew 17:4)