Sabbath Devotional :: Let Him In

Light of the World, by William Holman Hunt

When I was baptized I was given a generic copy of the Bible in Primary. It had a frontispiece featuring a glorious color image of Christ standing before a door and raising His hand to knock. I loved the image and looked at it often. It references a scripture in Revelations which says: Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me. (Revelations 3:20)

This comforting promise communicates the essence of the Savior’s relationship with us. It is a scripture filled with active love — Christ is coming to us personally, he wants to be part of our private lives — but he also respects our agency and will only enter if invited.

That is the part that I have been thinking about. The idea that it is up to us to open the doors of our lives. Christ knows all things from the beginning to the end, he has long since completed his sacrifice on our behalf, and even in our greatest moments of desperation, he has a better understanding that we do of how much he could help us. But he will not come to us in all our mess unless asked. How can we learn to want to open that door? What happens when we do?

Back in Revelations, a few verses before the Lord tells us he waits at our threshold he also describes the circumstances that might make us eager to open up. In verse 17 he says: Because thou sayest, I am rich, and increased with goods, and have need of nothing; and knowest not that thou are wretched and miserable, and poor, and blind and naked.

For each of us, there come points in every life where the true state of our soul is revealed to us. Usually this is when things we relied upon for our happiness, safety and contentment disappear. We lose a person, or a friendship, or financial security or a sense of our place in the world. We feel exposed and poor and blind and naked. It is at these moments when we are most likely to turn and make room.

I first felt that way most acutely when my father passed away. He had been a foundation for my faith, a safe port in life’s storms and a source of whimsy and joy. In spite of the passing years, I still feel an aching empty space in my life where there was once fullness and abundance. He has gone mostly beyond my reach.

In spite of that, he often continues to point me along a good path. My father was a truly lovely human being, and because I knew him for almost 50 years, I know a little bit about how he became that person. Simply put, it was because he constantly took stock of his life, and ceded room to Christ. Sometimes he opened the door in moments of despair and pain, but to his credit, he also regularly opened it out of a simple yearning to be better.

Every year of his life he showed less pride, vanity, anger, stupidity, and frustration. He made place for more light, faith, humility, patience and joy. More than anything, every year there was more and more grace. Grace he freely gave to others. He heard the knock and opened the door for a living Christ again and again. He rearranged furniture, knocked down walls, tossed things to the curb, took out the garbage and made room for Him to stay. I regularly feel my father inviting me to do the same.

We live busy and crowded lives in a noisy and often unpleasant world, so Christmas can be a good time to take stock. Somehow it is easier at this time of year to hear the faint sounds of rapping, and open the door with welcome hearts.

But too often we only invite the Christ child in as a holiday visitor. We do make efforts to accommodate and honor him, and he sits and sups with us. But, in spite of our enjoyment, we do this with the expectation that these are special feast days. Not every-day meals. We do not really expect him to stay.

Christ makes it clear that he will only come into our lives in transformative ways if we are willing to permanently let him in. He will only stay throughout the year if our accommodations for him are something more meaningful than the temporary displacement of a chair to make way for a holiday tree. How can we welcome him into our lives in a way that will be lasting?

We can throw out our petty arguments and hatreds and discontent with the people around us. Christ has extended his love equally to the whole of the human family, and as we extend love to others, our own sense of worthiness and happiness will increase. Christ will help us to fill our spaces with the knowledge that we are truly loved.

We know that Christ spent much of his life on earth tending to the temporal and physical needs of those he met. We can make room in our hearts and life as we sacrifice freely of our abundance. Materialism and greed take up incredibly valuable space, and using our resources to help others is the ultimate decluttering move – loosening the hold the world’s shiny things have on our hearts. Christ’s giving heart can teach ours how to create an interior atmosphere of lasting joy.

Finally, we can cast our burdens on the Lord. For me, so much of my space is filled with worry, regret, and sincere sorrow for my own mistakes and suffering. I am old enough and have had enough real friendships to know that this is true for many of us. This is the most important and real reason that Christ stands at that door. He wants to walk in, envelop us in love and take away our pains. But for this to happen we have to ask, we have to believe, and we have to be willing to orient our lives to “him that is mighty to save”. If we make room we can be healed and made whole.

I am deeply grateful for this time of year. For Christmas. I am grateful for the promise it offers of hope and redemption, the images of great strength emerging from humble circumstances, the messages of love for those around us. We are reminded of the power given to women and men whose interior lives have changed by Christ to again open their doors. This time as they step out of them in order to change the world.

“For unto us a child is born, unto us a child is given. And his name shall be called, wonderful, counselor, the mighty god the everlasting father the prince of peace.” This glorious being stands at our doors and knocks. Let’s open those doors and make room.