Toward the end of his letter to the church in Laodicea, Jesus made the stunning statement,
“Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.” (Revelation 3:20) It’s an astounding statement because Jesus is writing to the church. To people who know and follow him. And yet, he’s on the outside, asking to be let in.
One of the most iconic depictions of Jesus in art isn’t of Him walking on water or calming a storm. It’s of Him standing silently at a closed church door. William Holman Hunt’s painting The Light of the World captures Revelation 3:20 in stunning detail.
Jesus stands at a weathered wooden door, holding a lantern. He’s dressed in royal robes, surrounded by thorns and overgrowth, suggesting that he’s been standing and knocking for quite a while. The door is aged and unused. But most striking of all, there is no doorknob on the outside; the only way to open the door is on the inside.
The painting depicts Jesus in the same way he presents himself in Revelation 3:20; he isn’t breaking down the door. He’s not shouting or forcing His way in. He’s knocking. Waiting. Patiently. Lovingly.
The church in Laodicea had everything they thought they needed, but they were missing intimacy with Jesus. They thought they were good. “I’m rich. I’ve prospered. I need nothing.” And yet, Jesus says they are poor, blind, and naked. Sometimes success closes us off to our true and deepest need. Self-sufficiency deafens us to the knock. But Jesus still knocks. He wants in. Not to take, but to give. Not to burden, but to dine. “I will come in and eat with him, and he with me.” That’s not religious obligation. It’s relationship and communion.
And that’s the beauty of the gospel: Jesus knocks even on the doors overgrown with weeds, the ones that haven’t been opened in a long time. Maybe that’s you today. Maybe it’s been a long time since you experienced communion with Jesus. Today, take a moment to look at the door of your heart. Is it closed out of distraction? Fear? Pride? Maybe, like Laodicea, you’ve said “I’m good” for too long. But Jesus is still there. Still knocking. Still hoping to be welcomed in. And here’s one of the biggest shockers of all… the handle is on your side.
Pastor Ryan Paulson