A devotee would unfailingly go to church daily. Along the way, beggars would accost him, children would call out to him and neighbours would try to converse with him. However, so engrossed was he in his devotions that he neither saw nor heard anyone. One day, the church doors were locked and he couldn’t open them. Distressed that he’d miss his worship just once in his lifetime, he saw a note on the church door: “I’m out there!” God inhabits our sacred shrines and sanctuaries, but cannot be locked behind doors. As Christians prepare to celebrate Christmas during this season of Advent — from Latin adventus, meaning “arrival” — the symbol of doors is significant.
Doors and doorways are sites of transition. Closing doors ensures security, but signifies inhospitality; opening them suggests welcome, but invites trouble. Bashful Indian brides know not what awaits them as they ceremoniously cross doorposts of their in-laws’ houses, right foot first. And, my adivasi friends do not make pukka doors for their dwellings not only because there’s little to be robbed, but mainly because they trust everyone. Doors are significant in the Bible. Doorways and portals marked off sacred spaces from secular ones. Thus, the Holy of Holies was sealed off to all except to the high priest who would enter it once annually to represent the people before God.
Closed doors conceal. Jesus picturesquely advises his disciples, “When you pray, close your door and pray to God who is unseen.” Closed doors also exclude — as in Jesus’ teachings, when doors to festivities will not be opened to lethargic and foolish invitees. Jesus symbolically refers to himself as “the door”, inviting people to pass though pathways he maps for fuller life. He also says, “I stand at the door and knock. If you hear me and open the door, I’ll come in and dine with you.” Biblical characters connected with Christmas are characterised by attitudes of opening doors or closing them. Joseph, Jesus’ foster-father, and Mary, his mother, as well as her cousins, Elizabeth-Zechariah and their son, John, are open to the stirrings of God’s spirit. But, at the time of Christ’s birth, doors are closed, which lead him to be born in a stable.
Doors are symbolically more evocative this “Year of Mercy” since Pope Francis reminds us that God “opens the doors of his heart” and bids us open “doors of mercy” to those unloved, unpardoned and uncared for. Are the doors of your heart and home open? Tagore queries, “Whom do you worship in this lonely dark corner of a temple with doors shut? See, God is not before you!” He adds, “Come down to the dusty soil!” God constantly whispers: “I’m out there!” May we find God there.
