Intro
Swollen and bloated with pride, convinced their conclusions were correct, the Jewish rabbis hunkered down to refute the other side. So who was the other side? They were other Jewish rabbis. Some of them were saying that everyone who was Jewish would be saved. Others were saying that only some would be saved. Both knew they were right.
So there is Jesus, within earshot of this debate. The rabbis wanted to understand His grasp of the truth, and so they brought Jesus into the debate. One rabbi asks, “Sir, will only a few be saved?”
Jesus answers, but He doesn’t speak in abstract theories or ideas. He makes it personal. For in all their hammering out of the truth, they miss the main point. The real question isn’t, “How many are going to be saved?” The real question is, “Are you going to be saved?” That was Jesus’ question to them, and it’s also Jesus’ question to you. Are you going to be saved? Am I going to be saved? Will we fit through the narrow door?
Main Body
Most of us assume that we’ll be on the inside when Jesus closes that narrow door. He tells us about in our Gospel reading. Of course, we’ll be there with Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Jesus. We don’t see ourselves locked out. No, the outside is where unbelievers will weep and will grind their teeth. Of course, most of those listening to Jesus 2,000 years ago were sure they’d also be inside God’s Kingdom. But Jesus says they could easily be mistaken.
Jesus describes God’s Kingdom as a big house with many rooms. When it gets dark, the owner locks the door of the house, so everyone inside is safe and secure. Yet after He bolts the door, people are still standing outside, thinking they should be on the inside! They beat on the door, trying to get inside.
Jesus tells them, “I won’t open the door for you. It’s not safe to open the door for strangers. I don’t even know you.”
“You know us,” they respond. “You saw us eating and drinking. You saw us going to our jobs and going to the market. You saw us every day when you preached in our village.”
Yet, Jesus says, “I don’t know you. I only know that you are evildoers. And evildoers don’t come through this door.”
When Jesus says, “I don’t know you,” He doesn’t mean that he can’t identify them. He means that He doesn’t have any real connection to them. That’s why he says, “I don’t know you.” If someone pounded on your door at 2:00 o’clock in the morning, would that automatically entitle him to enter your house? Would you let him in if you knew just enough to know that he was a troublemaker? I don’t think so.
But if you knew the person, and had a real connection to him, you’d let him in. If you were convinced he was a good person, even at two in the morning, you’d let him in.
If Jesus asks you, “Why should I let you through the door?” What would you say? “You know me, Lord. I got baptized. I have the certificate somewhere. I think it’s in that big Bible at home that I never get around to reading.”
Does Jesus know you? Does He really know you? “Yes, you know me, Lord. I’m a member of Shepherd of the Hills Lutheran Church--at least I think I am. I know I don’t go to worship as often as I should. You know I don’t like some of what pastor teaches and preaches. I know I never bother to go to Bible class. Frankly, I just want to do the bare minimum that will get me into heaven. I’m sure You know me!”
Does Jesus know you? “You know me, Lord; you know I’ve tried to live a good life. I’ve been active in the church. I served on committees, helped with the community picnic, and even gave a bunch of money to the church.”
Does Jesus know you? He’s seen enough of you to know what you’re like, even the hidden and secret parts you. He knows that no matter how many marvelous acts you’ve done on the outside, He knows that--on the inside--you still are a fallen creature. You’re still someone who thinks and does what you shouldn’t think and do. Maybe that’s why he says in today’s Gospel: “Get away from me you evildoer.”
“But, you have to let me in, God. I believe in you.” Satan believes in God, too, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to get through the narrow door and delight in God’s eternal presence.
Without faith, simply going through the motions of churchly life doesn’t automatically mean Jesus knows you. Working in the church doesn’t mean you are in true communion with Him. Believing that there’s a God doesn’t mean that Jesus will let you pass through the narrow door.
Before He’s going to let you through that narrow door, Jesus has to “know” you. He has to “know” that you are sinless, because only perfect people will fit through that narrow door into His Kingdom.
Think of it this way. Each time you sin, you become bloated just a bit more. But here’s the problem: Even if you have just the smallest smidgen of swelling, the tiniest bit of bloat, you won’t fit through that narrow door. If you’ve only broken one commandment, you’re already too bloated to squeeze into God’s Kingdom. Even if you were to do billions and billions of good deeds, you’d still have all those sins that would make you too bloated to get through the door.
To make it even crazier, Jesus says that some on the inside--who never expected to be there--will be there! Earlier in their lives, some of them may have even murdered, abused their spouses, or were drawn to sexual perversions. They are the types of scum we know who are unworthy to go through that door. How dare Jesus let them in! But what we forget is that we’re also unworthy of going through that door!
Then how did those glaring sinners get through that door? If we’re too bloated with evil to get through, how come they’re not too bloated, as well? It’s because they are sinless. They are sinless because they gave all their sin to Jesus.
You see, Jesus knows them well, intimately well! You get to know someone well, intimately well, really well, when you’ve carried his sin! That’s why Jesus knows that murderers and sexual perverts who trust Him are sinless. Why? It’s because Jesus Himself has removed all the sin that would have kept them from squeezing through the narrow door.
It’s the same with us. We can only fit through that narrow door when our egos have been deflated and when our pride has been punctured. We’ll only fit through the door when we admit that we’re too sinful to fit through that door on our own. It doesn’t matter how many delightful deeds you think you’ve done!
You and I can only pass through the door when we finally believe that we need Jesus just as much as murderers, wife abusers, and homosexuals do. We’ll only fit through that door--with room to spare--when we hand over to Jesus all the sins that bloat and swell us.
If Jesus asks you, “Why should I let you through this narrow door,” don’t say anything that starts with the word “I.” If you say, “because I,” then you’ve already failed. That’s because nothing you can do is good enough. It’s as we sang, “Not what these hands have done can save this guilty soul.” Not even “all my prayers and sighs and tears can bear [this] awful load” (LSB 567).
If Jesus asks you, “Why should I let you through this narrow door,” let Him know that He died for you. Tell Him that He rose for you, that He has removed your sin from you, and that He has forgiven you.
Lay down all your good works, because they aren’t good enough. Hand over to your Savior all your sins for which He died. Come to the door empty-handed. When you’re doing nothing more than simply trusting your beloved Jesus who went to the cross for you, that’s when you’ll fit through the narrow door!
Then why does Jesus say, “Keep on struggling to enter through the narrow door.” If we can’t do anything to get through the door, if Jesus does it all, then why is it a struggle?
The struggle isn’t making ourselves good enough to get through the narrow door. The struggle is getting ourselves to admit that we’re not good enough to get through that door. The struggle is to give up on ourselves and depend on Jesus for dear life.
You and I are in a lifelong fight against the devil, the world, and, most of all, against our own sinful tendencies. We’re in a never-ending fight not to take our faith for granted. We’re in a constant fight against the temptation to think that our faith doesn’t need to be fed every Sunday by God’s forgiving Word and Supper.
We’re in a constant struggle not to neglect getting “jesused” every Sunday. Why do we need to get “jesused” so often? So we keep on trusting Jesus, that’s why. If we quit struggling against our temptations, we’ll find ourselves right back where we started. We’ll find ourselves with no faith in Jesus, the One who removes our sin. We’ll find ourselves with so many sins that we’ll be too bloated to fit through the narrow door.
Conclusion
Dear people loved by God, come again and again to Jesus, so you can combat your temptations and depend on Him. For Jesus says, “You are my forgiven child.” Indeed, He’s the only One who can pull you through the narrow door. Amen.
