August 21, 2022

Brief synopsis of the readings: In our first reading from Isaiah we hear God promise to gather nations of every language who will witness his glory. Even those who do not know him will learn and proclaim his name. In Luke’s Gospel someone asked Jesus whether only a few will be saved. Jesus responded by encouraging him to enter through the narrow door because “I tell you many will try to enter and will not succeed.” Jesus then spoke about a master who locked his door and went to bed. Someone knocked on the door but the master denied knowing him. The visitor protested that they did know each other but he was not admitted. All those left out will suffer as they see all those who are included feasting in the kingdom of God.

Several years ago I attended a Los Angeles Dodgers baseball game with a friend; it was my first visit to Dodger’s Stadium and we had no idea where our seats were. We attempted to enter through the gate closest to our car but the usher looked at our tickets and scornfully told us that we were not permitted to enter there and were directed to another entrance. This struck me as odd because either entrance led us into the same stadium but apparently we attempted to enter the VIP entrance.

I think about this when I read today’s Gospel. The person who addressed Jesus asked a question that has been asked countless times in our history. “Sir, will there be only a few saved?” really means “Will I be saved?” But Jesus, instead of giving a straight answer, spoke about a “narrow door” that appears to be the key. Why a narrow door? Does this mean that only a few will be saved? That’s certainly the interpretation many have given this, implying that the narrow door can only admit a finite number of people. But is that the true interpretation?

I’m pulling this from high school physics but a larger entrance will indeed allow greater access than a smaller entrance, but perhaps not in this case. Cities often had walls as a way to collect tolls from merchants and travelers and if this was the case here, each person would be stopped going in, regardless of the size of the gate. The “wide door” entrance is no faster than the “narrow door” entrance when everyone is stopped. In that case the wider gate provide nothing more than status. To stretch the Dodger’s Stadium image a little more, my friend and I were redirected only because we didn’t have the necessary status to go through the VIP entrance.

Interestingly enough we read in our first reading just how inclusive God will be. We are promised that God will gather “the nations of every language.” Perhaps the Gospel tells us that there is a narrow door and it’s the only one open. Given that, those gathered at the wide door will never be granted entrance unless or until they humble themselves to go through the door that is actually open. To quote Jesus in several places, “the last shall be first and the first shall be last.”

Unfortunately we’ve spent much of our history erroneously believing that either we are the admission guards at the door or that God has given us strict instructions on who to admit and who to deny (recognizing that God’s list looks exactly like ours). We have made ourselves, in a sense, the bouncers of Heaven.

There is a serious side to this but I’ve often joked that when Rev. Jerry Falwell (who claimed that God allowed 9/11 to happen because of our acceptance of homosexuality and abortion) and Harvey Milk (the openly gay member of the San Francisco City Council) ran into each other in Heaven they both exclaimed: “What are you doing here?

I think Jesus didn’t give a straight answer to the person with the question because it was the wrong question. IF a narrow door becomes the limiting factor of salvation then we are all competitors of each other. We need to find the narrow door before anyone else and ensure our place in line. We need to find the narrow door and find out what it takes to get through: does the bouncer lower the rope because we fed more hungry people or stitched together more rosaries? Do we get in because of the cleverness and complexity of our prayer that impresses our neighbor? Do we get in simply because we got there early?

Or do we gain entrance because we saw the narrow door and were humble enough to choose it? Do we gain entrance because it doesn’t matter to us if we’re not on the VIP list?

The narrow door also calls us to recognize the others who gain entrance. For many of us we think of Heaven as a place where we see God, but also our loved ones. We get to hug the grandmother who died when we were children. We get to get batting advice from Ted Williams and watch Cy Young pitch.

But, and it’s hard to admit this, we may also have a list of people we don’t want to see. We don’t want to see the schoolhouse bully who beat us up out of an assumption of our sexual orientation (valid or not). We don’t want to see the stepfather who claimed sexual abuse was simple, consentual affection. We don’t want to see business partner who cheated us and made himself rich at our expense.

It can be hard to think of this but anyone we meet there had the humility and repentance to find and go through the narrow door. For all that had led them to the wide door, something happened to bring them here.

And finally, allow them to be surprised at seeing us there. I remember talking once with someone working a 12 step program. We talked about the need to forgive others and he reminded me of this: “Just remember Tom, at this very moment there is likely someone who is asking for the strength to put up with you.”

Meet you at the narrow door.