The door to abundant life - John 10:1-10 - Living by the Word - Column

Christian Century, April 17, 1996 by Peter W. Marty

The opening verses in the tenth chapter of John's Gospel are cryptic and confusing. We may stumble over the metaphors, which seem inconsistent. Is Jesus the "shepherd" or the "door" There's a big difference.

Some interpreters suggest that the unbelievers "who did not understand what Jesus was saying" simply resisted the challenge of what he was proclaiming. In other words, it was not some intellectual deficiency that prevented them from grasping his speech. It was their intentional unbelief.

But something else may be at the heart of their misunderstanding. Perhaps listeners had a difficult time conceptualizing Jesus' intricate picture of a fenced-in sheepfold. It gets confusing, after all: a working gatekeeper, a vocalizing shepherd, a thief, a bandit and who knows how many sheep. Maybe Jesus sees that they're not understanding his elaborate sketch. In any event, he cuts to the chase with a new description of who he is: "Very truly I tell you, I am the door of the sheep . . . whoever enters by me will be saved."

The choice of the door as a symbol for the Savior is a curious one. While there is some precedent for door language in the Psalms (118:20) and in the synoptic Gospels (Matt. 7:13), it is hardly a dominant New Testament metaphor. It certainly lacks the poetry and the luster of figures like "the bread of life" and "the light of the world." When I think of doors, I can't help thinking of the 35-odd closet, bedroom, bathroom and exterior, doors in my old house--few of which work properly. Some don't latch evenly. Others have rusted hardware, squeaky hinges and handles that don't match. Still others swell hopelessly with summer humidity and leak miserably with winter cold. So why the reference to Jesus as the door of the sheepfold? Why such a mundane symbol for the Savior of the world?

The answer lies in the Gospel writer's frequent use of contrast. The thieves and bandits who attempt to fleece the flock "come by another way" that is murky and concealed, while Jesus opens a clearer way, one that is unobscured by malevolent activity. The former come by night to steal, kill and destroy; Jesus appears by day and grants abundant life.

Several years ago a local woman awoke in the middle of the night to desperate, cries of "Help! Help!" Thinking that her husband was in distress, she shook him violently. Then, realizing that he was asleep, she wondered if she might be in the midst of a frantic dream.

The cries persisted. She got out of bed, flipped on the light and headed into the living room where the shouting intensified. "Where are you?" she called out. "In the fireplace," was the reply. There, dangling in the fireplace flue, was a burglar stuck upside down. Police and firefighters eventually freed the would-be thief, but only after dismembering some brickwork and ripping out the mantle.

The best part of the story may be what the homeowner did while waiting for help. She turned on the living room lights and sat down to record the sight with her videocamera. Who knows what the two discussed at 2 A.M.? Perhaps she gave him a stem reading of John 10.

"Very truly, I tell you, anyone who does not enter the sheepfold by the door, but climbs in by another way, is a thief and "a bandit." Jesus reminds us that the joys of kingdom living require proper access. No one can know the realm of abundant life without entering through Jesus. Everyone else will come up short. Sheep locked in a pen without a functioning door will never discover freedom.

The idea of Jesus being the access door to a new world of living and being is something that people in different forms of bondage tend to appreciate most easily. Dietrich Bonhoeffer once-noted the advantage of celebrating Easter from a prison cell. You become entirely aware, he reasoned, that the door is the only way out. More than that: The door of a cell can be opened only from the outside. When Jesus speaks of saving those who pass through the door, he has rescue in mind. Those who find that door are saved not only from the pernicious activity of phony shepherds on the outside aggressively seeking their soul; they're also saved from a potentially much worse enemy on the inside--themselves.

Abundant living isn't hard to find. It's a matter of walking through the right doors. The life of which Jesus is speaking--one that overflows at die boundaries--is a life that passes through the grace of God. Jesus cautions those who would sneak through other passageways. Phony grace and false security and make-believe shepherds abound, and so do misleading doorways.

For years St. Anthony's Catholic Church in San Francisco has served meals to people in need. Over the doorway to its dining room the church has posted a sign bearing the inscription: Caritate Dei. One day a young mechanic, just released from jail and new to St. Anthony's, entered the door and sat down for a meal. A woman was busy cleaning the adjoining table. "When do we get on our knees and do the chores, lady?" he asked. "You don't," she replied. "Then when's the sermon comin'?" he inquired. "Aren't any," she said. "How `bout the lecture on life, huh?" "Not here," she said.