In this coming Sunday’s Gospel reading (21st Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C), we will hear that Jesus, responding to the question of whether only a few are saved, says the following: «Try to come in through the narrow door. Many, I tell you, will try to enter and be unable» (Luke 13:24).
At first, this sentence may seem like bad news to us. Couldn’t God have designed a much wider gate, one through which we could all pass easily? Indeed, don’t we tire of preaching that God is pure hospitality, that precisely one of the emphases of Jesus’ message was the mercy of the Father, who opens his arms wide to the whole world? How can we reconcile this idea with the image of the narrow door?
It seems to me that here Jesus is underscoring something fundamental, something we should never forget. That the spiritual life requires effort. Is the Gospel good news, and a path to fulfillment and happiness? Absolutely. Does it require sacrifice, deep inner work, and a firm will to overcome our most selfish tendencies and our pride? Yes, that is also true.
The path that Jesus offers is not a playful walk on the beach. It demands discipline and a patient work of self-knowledge, to discover within ourselves both what hinders us (which must be abandoned) and the living presence of the Spirit in the depths of our hearts (which must be welcomed and strengthened). It is a journey of transformation… that everyone can do (this is the good news!) —and that is why Jesus also affirms that all kinds of people, from the East, the West, the North, and the South, will sit at the table in the Kingdom, but that no one is exempt from walking.
I like to think that the narrow door is, in fact, a gift. Because those who arrive at its threshold with a swollen ego cannot cross it; or with suitcases packed to the brim with petulance, or resentment, or vanity, or a desire for prominence, or a lust for power. We must abandon all of that so that, light, simple, and at peace with the exact dimension of our goodness, our achievements, and our failures, we can then happily cross over to the other side. The narrow door is a gift because it reminds us of so many useless things that we carry around with us —things we tend to defend with passion, and yet they serve no purpose. Or they serve no purpose for the only thing that really matters: sitting down to enjoy the banquet in the kingdom.
