The Narrow Door (Luke 13:22-30)

A Reflection for Wednesday, March 19 by Rev. Charlene Rotvold

Lectionary Reading for 3/19/2025: Psalm 105:1-42; 2 Chronicles 20:1-22; Luke 13:22-31

Passage selected: Luke 13:22-30 NLT

Read

Luke 13:22-30 NLT

22 Jesus went through the towns and villages, teaching as he went, always pressing on toward Jerusalem. 23 Someone asked him, “Lord, will only a few be saved?”

He replied, 24 “Work hard to enter the narrow door to God’s Kingdom, for many will try to enter but will fail. 25 When the master of the house has locked the door, it will be too late. You will stand outside knocking and pleading, ‘Lord, open the door for us!’ But he will reply, ‘I don’t know you or where you come from.’ 26 Then you will say, ‘But we ate and drank with you, and you taught in our streets.’ 27 And he will reply, ‘I tell you, I don’t know you or where you come from. Get away from me, all you who do evil.’

28 “There will be weeping and gnashing of teeth, for you will see Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and all the prophets in the Kingdom of God, but you will be thrown out. 29 And people will come from all over the world—from east and west, north and south—to take their places in the Kingdom of God. 30 And note this: Some who seem least important now will be the greatest then, and some who are the greatest now will be least important then.”

Reflect

The Narrow Door, my Bible titles this section. I scratch my head and as I ponder how to explain this passage and the life it describes to a beloved friend who is walking the broad road, which is full of wide open doors. How do I explain the truth in love, how do I describe my God, who is not safe but is good, in ways that are honest and winsome? How do I accurately represent (and point to) the God of love, who asks things of us, without sounding judgmental? Oh how the world begs us to be inclusive, to assure them that surely God’s love takes care of all things and all people (sin notwithstanding). Which it does… in the end… in Christ alone.

 If I had a nickel for every time I’ve overheard a well-intentioned, wannabe-encourager talk with unfounded confidence about the “better place” that a loved one has surely entered after death, I’d be long retired (although deeply disheartened). Sigh. It sounds good, this “better place,” doesn’t it? At first (and fluffy) glance, anyway. Such talk seems to help those who do not know Jesus feel settled in a time of loss, move forward in the grief process, and anticipate their own eventual death without fear. Initially and from a distance, anyway. But deep down, and when the time comes, not at all. Because those are shallow words. Hollow. Mere platitudes. 

My beloved friend calls himself a Christian and truly believes it to be so. He will confess with his mouth that “Jesus Christ is my Lord and Savior,” and yet as I look at his life, I see (alongside such things as laughter and work and bills paid and a home maintained and friendships sustained) unhealthy and un-Christlike doses of profanity, sex, gambling, truth-stretching, and alcohol abuse. A church home? Nope. Christian friends? Few. Serving, giving, prayer, Scripture? Slim to none. Friends, what does it mean to call oneself a Christian? Quite frankly, and according to our text, it means nothing apart from real knowing, real following, real life evidence in daily life. Separated from our living, it’s just a word. 

I think this is the heart of this passage; that it should mean and look and sound like something, this faith of ours. That it really cost something, this gift of salvation we’ve been offered. Oh yes, the offer is indeed free and readily available to all, but unless we receive it, and unless we follow Christ (or at least try to), our mere words do the love of God, the sacrifice of Christ, and the witness of the Church a grave and dangerous disservice. 

Respond

The invitation I’m left pondering, one that I invite you to wrestle with as well, is this: instead of calling yourself a Christian or asking if someone is a Christian, what if we stated instead “I am a follower of Jesus,” and asked if another is a follower of Jesus? I wonder where and how the conversation would turn as a result? Cross-ward and Christ-ward, I would expect.

Rest

Most merciful God, we confess that we have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done, and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We are truly sorry and we humbly repent. For the sake of your Son Jesus Christ, have mercy on us and forgive us; that we may delight in your will, and walk in your ways, to the glory of Your Name. Amen.

About the Author

Charlene Rotvold is the Care & Connect Pastor at Faith Covenant Church in Burnsville, MN. After serving her church part-time for 10 years, God called her to pastoral ministry, and she has served in her current capacity, and at the same church, for close to 17 (additional) years. Along with pastoring, Char is a trained coach and spiritual director in the ECC, has been married to Kirk for 30+ years, and is the proud mom to two adult children and one geriatric mini-labradoodle. She enjoys running, reading, laughter, wilderness camping, traveling, and time with family and friends.

This reflection is part of a series called Prayerful Reflections: A Daily Devotional for Lent 2025. Join us on the blog each day for a new reflection from a different writer, or download the pdf of the entire devotional by clicking the link.