By Father Ross Chrichton
The Latin word ‘ianua’ meaning ‘door’ or ‘gate’ gives us the word ‘January’ in English. That first month is the ‘door’ of the new year. When we speak of a new opportunity, we talk about an ‘open door’.
At the beginning of a new year, it is our hope that the twelve months which lie ahead of us will be full of opportunities. But an open door is only a beginning. For it to have any significance, we have to muster the courage to step over the threshold of an open door, and that choice to enter through one particular door will necessarily mean that other doors will henceforth be closed to us.
The Fathers of the Church took up that Latin word ‘ianua’ when speaking of baptism – the very first Sacrament a Christian receives. They called baptism the ‘ianua sacramentorum’ – the door of the sacraments. Baptism enables us to step over the threshold of the House of God and enter into the family of the Church. Only then can we receive the other Sacraments. The choice to be baptised then defines the rest of our lives. We are committing to living as Christians, not just in name but in nature. However, a commitment to Christ is not just about us entering His ‘House’. It also implies that we are to allow Him into the inner sanctuary of our own soul too. The door of our heart must be open to God.
There is still a strong tradition of ‘open doors’ here in the islands and it is indicative of a culture of great trust. Some people are happy to leave their house unlocked when out and about and rarely do you have to use a doorbell when visiting people – it is sufficient to knock and enter. The Hogmanay practice of ‘first-footing’ may not be as prevalent as it once was, but there is a long-standing Scottish tradition of visiting the households of neighbours and friends as we cross the threshold from the old year to the new year. When the tourist season begins, people here will open their houses to visitors from near and far, welcoming them into the heart of their own homes. The visitor to our home can be a blessing. Another old Scottish tradition is never to visit someone empty-handed. Whether or not a visitor comes bearing food or drink, they will certainly bring information, news or the simple blessing of their company.
Here, in the islands, our Church doors are always open and many locals and visitors alike step over the threshold to spend time in quiet prayer and reflection in the House of God. The Visitors’ Book in St. Michael’s, Eriskay, records the gratitude of many a visitor who has found an open door allowing them to pause on a journey, shelter from the wind, or learn about the religious heritage of our island community. It is good that people find an open door when they visit God’s House. But what about when God visits us?
Our recent celebration of Christmas reminded us that when Mary and Joseph sought shelter in a crowded Bethlehem, they found to their dismay there was no room for them. When God took flesh and dwelt among us, doors were closed to Him before He was even born. God does not force His way into our lives; He waits to be invited. In the Book of Revelation, we read the words of Jesus: “Behold, I stand at the door and knock.” (Rev. 3:20). This image of Christ knocking at the door of the human heart has been immortalised in the famous painting by William Holman Hunt. There is no handle on the outside of the door. It can only be opened from within. Why does Jesus want access to our lives? That verse goes on to say: “If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.” God created us for communion with Him and true fulfilment comes from allowing the Divine Guest into our lives. His presence is truly a blessing. Such was the experience of St. Augustine who said, “You have made us for yourself, O God, and our heart is restless until it rests in you.” Here was a man of the world who had failed to find fulfilment in all that the world had to offer him. His restless heart only found true peace when he opened it to God. One of the milestones on St. Augustine’s journey of conversion happened in a garden in Milan when he heard a mysterious voice say to him: “Tolle, lege…” (take up and read). He picked up a Bible and, opening it at random, the passage he found challenged him as God spoke directly to his situation and his heart in the words he read. How many people over the centuries have picked up that same book and their lives transformed by the living Word of God!
Perhaps, like St. Augustine, you have gone through doors in life which have not led to the fulfilment you thought you would find behind them. Perhaps you have opened the door of your heart to guests who have not been a blessing to you. If so, now would be a good time to take up your Bible and allow God to speak to you. Even now, He stands and knocks at the door of your heart. Will you let Him in?
