Revelation 3:20 Context
At St. Paul’s Cathedral in London, you’ll find the most well-traveled piece of artwork in history: William Holman-Hunt’s oil painting The Light of the World.
It is a powerful image, of Christ standing in front of a curved wooden door at dusk, as if he’s been on a long journey as if he is looking for a place to rest.
He knocks softly, calling our names in a gentlemanly way. Though Christ bears his own light, you can feel the coolness of the evening descending and the shadows creeping in.
So, warm and comfortable in our homes, we should let Christ in, doing what would help him, giving him what he so desires—communion with us.
Revelation 3:20 Meaning
Yet by doing so, we forget the larger context of Christ’s words. In this section of Scripture, he is speaking to the Laodicean church, which has prided itself on being capable, self-sufficient, and accomplished.
But in truth, they have become lukewarm in walking out their faith, wealth blinding them to their own poverty in spirit. He even threatens to spit them out (v. 16) in response.
Revelation 3:20 Application
When life is going well, it is so easy to trust in our comforts, in our ability to mark off the to-do lists and control our schedules. The stable rhythms of life lull us into contentment.
It becomes easier to have our commitments discipline us, rather than us set our own priorities. As Brian Houston of Hillsong has said, we are what we allow.
Too often when crisis comes and worry rises up, what we have allowed into our lives crumbles under the pressure and us along with it.
If we look at Hunt’s painting, he actually offers viewers these cautions as well—a closer look shows the door is overgrown and lacks a handle.
Living our lives, and tending to other things, the door to our hearts has fallen out of use, and we haven’t given Christ free rein to enter as he chooses.
Fortunately, we see in this letter Christ issuing in one hand a sharp warning to keep faith as our bedrock, and in the other, deep grace.
For even if we haven’t opened the door recently, Christ still knows the way to us.
In fact, he is already present, calling out, “Here I am!” For his claim that he stands at the door knocking comes not as one needing something from us.
But instead, as one who has braved the darkness to bring his light into our most secret places.
For when the door is opened, no matter that there is chaos, that the money jar is empty, the child is absent, that one lies sick, he can mend all those things. His communion is always to our betterment.
“God, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the deer’s; he makes me tread on my high places.”