After a weird night of outside noises, my foggy early morning Bible reading arrives at Revelation 3:20. The familiarity of its long ago memorized words steal into my heart immediately like water into dry soil.
“Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and will dine with him, and he with Me.”(NASB).
“Behold, behold,” a childhood song resurrects. “I stand at the door and knock, knock, knock.” My hand curls to a fist and I actually look around for something to knock on, the swing of the melody still strong like a pendulum inside my head.
Another recollection hangs in the shadow of my mind, a framed picture. It held a place of honor on the wall at my Uncle’s house, in my Sunday School room and even public places. Orangish, faded and dated, a white robed Classic Christ stood against dreary darkness with Hand lifted to knock on a closed door.
The Revelation 3:20 verse ends an uncomfortable passage, a reveal of the Laodicean church, one of the seven existing churches the final book of the Bible was written to. It was neither cold nor hot. God says of the lukewarm church, “I will vomit you out of My mouth.” I mean really, not words I like, and they always make me squirm and fear just a bit for the “where” of my standing.
The context isn’t exactly the evangelistic call it’s often slated as, and as I grew older, because I didn’t know exactly how to interpret the verse, I shied away from it and put it into the file of childhood Scriptural naiveté.
But today, propped up against white pillows, a Bible on my lap and journal at my side, those words, an echo from childhood, call my name.
“…if anyone hears My voice and opens the door…”
His longing love to “anyone,” His consistent knocking, that of the Bridegroom for His Bride the church, touch my heart with yearning.
Lukewarmness lives unaware and unbothered. The Laodiceans saw themselves rich and in need of nothing. But they had no clue of just how “wretched, miserable, poor, blind and naked” they were. (Rev. 3:17). Where they were contented with life, Christ desired much more from them, He offered richness in spiritual life.
“Those whom I love, I reprove and discipline; therefore be zealous and repent,” Christ pleaded. Revelation 3:19 (NASB).
A Loving Savior knocked. Do you see the picture?
He called the church at Laodicea to repent, turn from their sin, to remove all barriers. He waited for the free passage way of zealous repentance.
Eagerness to rid blockage of sin indicates how deeply we thirst to be close to Jesus.
At the cusp of a new year, my heart poses the question: Is the door wide open? Is Jesus knocking? Does sin stand between?
“…I will come in to him and will dine with him, and he with Me.”
I sit back against my propped pillows, arrested by a rich painting of me feasting with Jesus, of animated sharing, of face to face communication. Like the disciples on the shore sharing grilled fish with the Master, I want to tell Him what’s on my heart, what bothers me, what hurts.
I desire forgiveness for the stuff in between. I anticipate His response, His love and yes, even His rebuke. I trust His tender truth will keep me walking His path and steer me from my own.
Ah yes. This is the free air I want to breathe in 2017.
And I realize the knob is on my side of the door.
“Dine dine with him, and he with Me.”
At the crest of a New Year, what’s your door? What stands between?
Take it off its hinges. Blast it.
Pose no barriers to Jesus.
Dine with the Master.