Revelation 3:20

Behold, I stand at the door and knock.

The Guest of the heart

I. The stranger-guest wanting to come in. “Behold, I stand at the door, and knock.”

1. When a stranger comes to your door, it matters a good deal to your feeling as a host whether he be a mean man or a great one. An inhospitable act done to your Queen might never vex you at all if it was only done to an obscure wanderer. Who, then, is this? Is He mean? or is He great? He does not look very great in the starlight. But He is. At home He is worshipped, and wields all command; and beings before whom the mightiest of the earth are as infants, only venture to bow themselves at His feet when their faces are shielded from the lustre of His glory.

2. When a stranger comes to your door, it is a consideration for you whether he has come to a door only, or to your door; whether he has come to your door by chance, or to yourself on purpose. Has this Stranger, then, just happened upon this cottage-door as one that serves His turn as well as any other? or does He mean to seek this very home and this very board, if haply He may be welcomed as a friend? How deeply does He mean it, and how tenderly!

3. When a stranger comes to your door, it is of some moment to you whether he has come but a short distance to see you, or has come from far. This waiting Stranger--whence comes He? From another country? He has come from another world. Through peril, through tribulation, He has come hither.

4. When a stranger comes to your door, it is a thing of influence with you whether your visitor is in earnest to get in, or shows indifference, and soon gives up the endeavour. A caller who knocks and goes off again before you have had reasonable time to answer.

5. When a stranger comes to your door, it is of every consequence to you what may be the character of himself, and the complexion of his errand. Is he good, and likely come for good? or is he evil, and likely come for evil? What far-brought tidings, what peace, what hopes, what aids, what influence, he fetches with him!

II. The stranger-guest getting in. “If any man hear My voice, and open the door.”

1. The Stranger did not force an entrance. It is from the inside, after all, that a man’s heart opens to his Saviour-King.

2. At the same time it is of the utmost importance to note, that the transaction, with this indispensable element of free choice in it, is the veriest simplicity. “If any man hear,” “and open”--lo! it is accomplished, and the Son of God is within. Very natural it may be--after you have at last acknowledged the Voice by some beginnings of faith, and have arisen at its call to bustle long about the apartment in a process of rearranging, cleansing, tidying, adorning. Not less natural it may be to sit down, after a desponding glance around you, and endeavour to devise some plan by which you may entertain the Guest more worthily. All the while, and all the same, your Guest is standing without. The one luckless fact is the tardiness of your hospitality. The honour is done Him by nothing but by letting Him in. And more: your heart-home will only be made fit for His presence by His presence.

3. But there may be some one who is saying with a certain sincerity, “I have tried to open my heart to Christ, and I could not--cannot!” It will baffle your own strength. But what of your Guest Himself, and that power of His--so freely available now?

III. The stranger-guest in. “I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with Me.” It is a scene with much light in it, and an atmosphere of security and deep peace. (J. A. Kerr Bain, M. A.)

Christ’s loving earnestness

I. The love of Christ. It is free love. It is large love. It is love irrespective of goodness in us.

II. The patience of Christ. He stands, and He has stood, as the words imply--not afar off, but nigh, at the door. He stands. It is the attitude of waiting, of perseverance in waiting. He does not come and go; He stands. He does not sit down, or occupy Himself with other concerns. He has one object in view.

III. The earnestness of Christ. If the standing marks His patience, the knocking marks His earnestness--His unwearied earnestness.

1. How does He knock?

2. When does He knock?

IV. The appeal of Christ to the Laodiceans. “If any man will hear My voice, and open the door.” It is--

1. A loving appeal.

2. A personal appeal.

3. An honest appeal.

4. An earnest appeal.

V. The promise of Christ.

1. I will come in to Him. His standing on the outside is of no use to us. A mere outside Christ will profit us nothing. An outside cross will not pacify, nor heal, nor save.

2. I will sup with him. He comes in as a guest, to take a place at our poor table and to partake of our homely meal.

3. He shall sup with Me. Christ has a banquet in preparation. (H. Bonar, D. D.)

The Christ at the door

These wonderful words need no heightening of their impressiveness, and yet there are two considerations which add pathos and beauty to them. The one is that they are all but the last words which the seer in Patmos heard in his vision, from the lips of the exalted Christ. Parting words are ever impressive words; and this is the attitude in which Jesus desired to be thought of by all coming time. Another consideration intensifying the impressive-Hess of the utterance is that it is the speech of that Christ whose exalted glories are so marvellously portrayed in the first chapter of this book. The words are marvellous too, not only for that picture, but for the clear decisiveness with which they recognise the solemn power that men have of giving or refusing an entrance to Him; and still further, for the grandeur of their promises to the yielding heart which welcomes Him.

I. The exalted Christ asking to be let in to a man’s heart. The latter words of the verse suggest the image of a banqueting hall. The chamber to which Christ desires entrance is full of feasters. There is room for everybody else there but Him. Now the plain sad truth which that stands for about us, is this: That we are more willing to let anybody and anything come into our thoughts, and find lodgment in our affections, than we are to let Jesus Christ come in. The next thought here is of the reality of this knocking. Every conviction, every impression, every half inclination towards Him that has risen in your hearts, though you fought against it, has been His knocking there. And think of what a revelation of Him that is! We are mostly too proud to sue for love, especially if once the petition has been repulsed; but He asks to be let into your heart because His nature and His name is Love, and being such, He yearns to be loved by you, and tie yearns to bless you.

II. Notice that awful power which is recognised here as residing in us, to let Him in or to keep Him out. “It any man will open the door”--the door has no handle on the outside. It opens from within. Christ knocks: we open. What we call faith is the opening of the door. And is it not plain that that simple condition is a condition not imposed by any arbitrary action on His part, but a condition indispensable from the very nature of the case?

III. The entrance of the Christ, with His hands full of blessing. It is the central gift and promise of the gospel “that Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith.” He Himself is the greatest of His gifts. He never comes empty-handed, but when He enters in He endows the soul with untold riches. We have here also Christ’s presence as a Guest. “I will come in and sup with Him.” What great and wonderful things are contained in that assurance! Can we present anything to Him that He can partake of? Yes! We may give Him our service and He will take that; we may give Him our love and He will take that, and regard it as dainty and delightsome food. We have here Christ’s presence not only as a Guest, but also as Host--“I will sup with him and he with Me.” As when some great prince offers to honour a poor subject with his presence, and let him provide some insignificant portion of the entertainment, whilst all the substantial and costly parts of it come in the retinue of the monarch, from the palace. (A. Maclaren, D. D.)

The heavenly Visitor

I. What is implied by the expression, “I stand at the door.”

1. That Christ is outside man’s heart.

2. That He is deliberately excluded.

3. That He is excluded in favour of other guests.

4. That notwithstanding He wishes to enter.

5. That He recognises our liberty to admit Him.

II. By what means He makes His presence known.

III. The blessings to be enjoyed by those who admit Him.

1. Reconciliation.

2. Communion.

3. Refreshment. (Thos. Heath.)

Christ at the door

I. The person. The Greatest at the door of the meanest.

II. The attitude.

1. Service.

2. Waiting expectation.

3. Supplication.

III. The action.

IV. The object. (Homilist.)

The pleading Saviour

I. The Saviour’s humility and condescension.

1. Patience. Repeated application where rudely repulsed.

2. Desire to enter. Not for His own good or gratification, but for our salvation, because He delights in mercy.

II. The Saviour’s persistent efforts.

III. The Saviour’s proffered reward. The presence of Christ is the highest privilege man can desire. It involves--

1. Familiarity.

2. Reciprocity.

3. Unity.

4. Enjoyment. (Homilist.)

Christ at the door

I. The suppliant for admission. A strange reversal of the attitudes of the great and of the lowly, of the giver and of the receiver, of the Divine and of the human! Christ once said, “Knock and it shall be opened unto you.” But He has taken the suppliant’s place. So, then, there is here a revelation, not only of a universal truth, but a most tender and pathetic disclosure of Christ’s yearning love to each of us. What do you call that emotion which more than anything else desires that a heart should open and let it enter? We call it love when we find it in one another. Surely it bears the same name when it is sublimed into all but infinitude, and yet is as individualising and specific as it is great and universal, as it is found in Jesus Christ. And then, still further, in that thought of the suppliant waiting for admission there is the explanation for us all of a great many misunderstood facts in our experience. That sorrow that darkened your days and made your heart bleed, what was it but Christ’s hand on the door? Those blessings which pour into your life day by day “beseech you, by the mercies of God, that ye yield yourselves living sacrifices.” That unrest which dogs the steps of every man who has not found rest in Christ, what is it but the application of His hand to the obstinately-closed door? The stings of conscience, the movements of the Spirit, the definite proclamation of His Word, even by such lips as mine, what are they all except His appeals to us? And this is the deepest meaning of joys and sorrows, of gifts and losses, of fulfilled and disappointed hopes. If we understood better that all life was guided by Christ and that Christ’s guidance of life was guided by His desire that He should find a place in our hearts, we should less frequently wonder at sorrows, and should better understand our blessings.

II. The door opened. Jesus Christ knocks, but Jesus Christ cannot break the door open. The door is closed, and unless there be a definite act on your part it will not be opened, and He will not enter. So we come to this, that to do nothing is to keep your Saviour outside; and that is the way in which most men that miss Him do miss Him. The condition of His entrance is simple trust in Him, as the Saviour of my soul. That is opening the door, and if you will do that, then, just as when you open the shutters, in comes the sunshine; just as when you lift the sluice in flows the crystal stream into the slimy, empty lock; so He will enter in, wherever He is not shut out by unbelief and aversion of will.

III. The entrance and the feast. “I will come in to him and sup with him, and he with Me.” Well, that speaks to us in lovely, sympathetic language, of a close, familiar, happy communication between Christ and my poor self which shall make all life as a feast in company with Him. John, as he wrote down the words “I will sup with him, and he with Me,” perhaps remembered that upper room where, amidst all the bitter herbs, there was such strange joy and tranquility. But whether he did or no, may we not take the picture as suggesting to us the possibilities of loving fellowship, of quiet repose, of absolute satisfaction of all desires and needs, which will be ours if we open the door of our hearts by faith, and let Jesus Christ come in? (A. Maclaren, D. D.)

Relation to Christ of the human soul

I. His attitude towards the soul. He is constantly in contact with the soul. He does not come occasionally and then depart; He stands.

1. His deep concern. In the eye of Christ the soul is no trifling object: He knows its capabilities, relations, power, influence, interminable history.

2. His infinite condescension.

3. His wonderful patience.

II. His action upon the soul. He does not stand there as a statue doing nothing. He knocks: He knocks at the door of intellect with His philosophic truths; at the door of conscience, with His ethical principles; at the door of love, with His transcendent charms; at the door of hope, with His heavenly glories; at the door of fear, with the terrors of His law.

1. The moral power of the sinner. The soul has the power to shut out Christ. It can bolt itself against its Creator. This it does by directing its thoughts to other subjects, by deadening its convictions, by procrastinations.

2. The consummate folly of the sinner. Who is shut out? Not a foe or thief; but a friend, a physician, a deliverer.

3. The awful guiltiness of the sinner. It shuts out its proprietor, its rightful Lord.

III. His aim in reference to the soul. It is not to destroy it; but to come into it and identify Himself with all its feelings, aspirations, and interests.

1. Inhabitation. “I will come unto him.” We are perpetually letting people into our hearts. How pleased we are if some illustrious personage will enter our humble homes and sit down with us, etc.

2. Identification. “Sup with him and he with Me.” I will be at home with him, be one with him. A conventionally great man deems it a condescension to enter the house of an inferior--he never thinks of identifying himself with the humble inmate. Christ does this with the soul that lets Him in. He makes its cares His own. (Homilist.)

The illustrious Visitor

I. The great kindness of the Redeemer to man.

1. Compassion for man.

2. Condescension to man.

3. Communion with man. The Saviour does not come as a stranger, He comes as a friend and a guest.

4. The consummation of man. He takes possession of our spirits to make them perfect and glorious. This will be the perfecting of our humanity, the consummation of all our best and brightest hopes and capacities.

II. The great unkindness of man to the Redeemer.

1. Ignorance is the cause in some cases why the visit of the Saviour is not welcomed. If the ignorance be involuntary and unavoidable, then it is not culpable; but if it be the result of a voluntary refusal to know who the Saviour is, and what His knocking means, then it shows great unkindness to the Redeemer, and is regarded by Him as a great sin.

2. Another cause is indifference. Some know that it is the Saviour standing at the door of their hearts; but they are so absorbed with other engagements, they are so careless about the unseen and eternal, that they let Him stand outside, and make no effort to let Him in.

3. Another cause is unbelief.

4. Prejudice is another cause of the unkindness of man to the Redeemer. The Cross is an offence to many. Prejudice blinds the eyes and hardens the heart and prevents man seeing Jesus as He really is--“the chief among ten thousand, and the altogether lovely.”

5. The last cause of unkindness we will mention is ingratitude. (F. W. Brown.)

Christ at the door

I. Friendship with God is proposed as the grand privilege of the race.

1. The friendship which God offers is on entirely a human plane. Christian life is only a transfiguration of every-day life.

2. The friendship which God proposes is permanent in its continuance.

II. An undoubted proof of the Divine sincerity.

1. You see this in the fact that the entire proposal comes from Him. The grace of this transaction is absolutely marvellous.

2. You see this in the successive and persistent endeavours to bring this friendship within reach of the soul.

III. The assurance of the entire fulness of the atonement. There is no restriction in the offers of Divine grace.

1. There is no limit on the human side. If any man will open his heart, the Saviour will come in.

2. There is positively no limit on the Divine side either. The offer is made in terms utterly without restriction.

IV. An explicit recognition of human free agency under the plan of salvation by grace. It is well to inquire why it is He thus pauses on the threshold.

1. It is not because He is unable to force His way in. There is no opposition so violent that He could not crush it beneath His Omnipotent might.

2. The reason for the Divine forbearance is found in the inscrutable counsels of the Divine wisdom. In the beginning, He drew one line around His own action. He determined to create a class of beings who should have minds and hearts of their own. A free chance to choose between serving Him and resisting Him He now gives to every one of us. And when He had thus established men in being, He sovereignly decided never to interfere with the free-will He had bestowed.

V. If any man is finally lost, the responsibility rests upon his own soul. The Saviour has come so far, but it is perfectly clear He is coming no further.

1. Observe how unbeclouded is the final issue. There can be no mystery, there is no mistake about it. The Providence of God always clears the way up to the crisis, removing every side-consideration which can possibly confuse it. Education that fits for usefulness is a demand for usefulness; the love of our children is a hint for us to love God as children; social position, wealth, official station, accomplishments, popular favour; whoever has any of these ought to hear in them the accents of that quiet voice speaking to his heart: “Behold, I stand at the door and knock.”

2. Observe the ease of the condition required of us. It is only to open the door. Great things under the gospel are always simple.

3. Observe then, finally, what it is that keeps the Saviour out. Nothing but will. This is the inspired declaration: “Ye will not come unto Me, that ye might have life.” That is, you set a definite purpose against the purpose of grace. Christ came and you resisted Him. (C. S. Robinson, D. D.)

Christ knocking at the door of the soul

I. That there is in the human soul a door for the entrance of the truth.

1. The intellect. Is not the theology of the Bible in its broad outlines reasonable? Christ, in the evidence, enlightenment, and conviction of the truth, stands knocking at the mind of man, and the greater the knowledge of the truth, the louder is the appeal for entrance.

2. The heart. Man is endowed with the capability of love and sympathy. He has warm affections. He is so constituted as to be attracted by the pathetic and the beautiful. Hence, he looks out upon nature with admiring eye. And it is to this capability in man that the truth appeals. It presents to him an ideal beauty in the life of Christ, as recorded by the gospel narrative, which ought to win his spirit into an imitation of the same.

3. The conscience. Man has the ability to turn his natural judgment to moral and spiritual questions, and this is what we mean by conscience. To this faculty the truth presents its requirements; convinces of failure in the devotion of the inner life to Christ; and spreads out before it the threat of avenging justice.

4. But, strange to say, the door of the soul is closed to the entrance of the truth. The door of the mind is closed by error, by ignorance, and by prejudice. The door of the heart is shut by pride, by unbelief, and by wilful sin. The door of the conscience is barred by a continued habit of evil.

II. That at the door of the human soul truth makes continued appeals for entrance.

1. This appeal of truth is authoritative. Truth comes to men with authority, even with the claim of a sinless life, and with the emphasis of a Divine voice. Its distinguished character should gain for it an immediate and hearty welcome into the soul, as a king should be welcomed into a cottage. But truth comes to men not only with the authority of character, but also with the authority of right. The faculties of the human mind were made to receive it.

2. The appeal of Truth is patient. Other guests have entered--wealth in splendid apparel, ambition with loud clamour, and pride with haughty mien--but Christ with gentle spirit has remained without. His patience has been co-extensive with our neglect of Him. It is Divine.

3. The appeal of truth is benevolent. The truth does not seek to enter the soul of man merely to spy out its moral defilement, to pass woful sentence on its evil-doings, but to cleanse it by the Holy Spirit, to save it by grace, to enlighten it by knowledge, and to cheer it by love.

4. The appeal of truth is heard. “And knock.” Knocks at the door are generally heard. And certainly this is the case in reference to the advent of Christ to the soul. It is impossible to live in this land of religious light and agency without being conscious of Divine knockings at the portal of the soul.

III. That the human soul has the ability of choice as to whether it will open its door for the entrance of the truth or not.

1. The door of the soul will not be opened by any coercive methods. Does it not seem strange that Christ should have the key of the soul and yet stand without? This is only explained by the free agency of man. But though He enter not to dwell, the soul is visited by spiritual influences which are the universal heritage of man.

2. The door of the soul must be opened by moral methods. Calm reflection, earnest prayer, and a diligent study of the inspired Word, together with the gentle influences of the Divine Spirit, will open the soul to the entrance of Christ (Acts 16:14).

IV. That if the human soul will open its door to the reception of the truth, Christ will enter into close communion with it.

1. Then Christ will inhabit the soul. “I will come in to him.” Thus, if Christ come into the soul He will dwell in its thoughts, in its affections, in its aspirations, in its aims, and in all its activities. He will elevate and consecrate them all. True religion just means this, Christ in the soul, and its language is (Galatians 2:20).

2. Then Christ will be in sympathy with the soul. “And will sup with him.” It is impossible to have a feast in the soul unless Christ spreads the table; then the meal is festive. It removes sorrow; it inspires joy. While we are partaking of it we can relate to Christ all the perplexities of life. The good man carries a feast within him (John 4:32).

3. Then Christ will strengthen the soul. He will strengthen the moral nature by the food He will give, by the counsel He will impart, and by the hope He will inspire. The feast, the supply of holy energy will be resident within. (J. S. Exell, M. A.)

The self-invited Guest

I. That, in the dispensation of the Gospel, Christ is the uninvited guest, pleading for admission. Whatever acquaintance any of us may have with Jesus, the acquaintance began on His side: by Him are the first overtures invariably made.

1. The written gospel is a proof of it.

2. The Christian ministry is another proof.

3. The strivings of His Spirit are another instance of this. In the two former cases, His approach can more easily be avoided.

II. That consent alone is required, on our part, to give us a full participation in His friendship.

1. The consent which is required.

2. The friendship which is offered. (J. Jowett, M. A.)

Christ at the door of the heart

“Behold!” The sight is indeed a most astonishing one, which ought to fill our hearts with surprise and shame. God outside; He who ought to be recognised as Lord and Master of the human being, to whom we owe everything. I question whether there is any revelation made to us in the whole course of God’s Word that more strongly illustrates the persevering love of God. The love of God is not content with redeeming a guilty world, but He brings the redemption to the door of every human being. How, it is natural we should ask, is this extraordinary phenomenon to be explained? If we look at the context, we discover what the explanation is. “Thou sayest, I am rich and increased with goods, and have need of nothing.” Ah! it is in those words that the clue is found to the extraordinary spectacle. I cannot understand a man going on, year after year, realising his own inward want, and yet not accepting the supply which God has given. How is it that Satan prevents this? How is it that he brings us to the position which is indicated to us by this figure? By filling us with all sorts of things which are not God. What are they? Some make their religion a substitute for God. That is one of the very worst substitutes that we can possibly fix upon. Again, how many persons there are who find an excellent substitute for Christ in morality. A man may have kept all the Ten Commandments, and yet, all the while, be shutting the door of his heart against Christ, and if a man does that, he keeps the letter of the Commandments, but not the spirit. Again, how many there are who take worldly pleasures as a substitute for God. Another thing set up in the place of God is the love of wealth. What is there that money cannot do? Another man puts learning in the place of God. What is there that intelligence cannot do? All these attempts to create substitutes, what are they? They are simply so many sins against your own soul. It would not have been at all a thing to be marvelled at, if we had read this passage thus: “The Lord once stood outside the door and knocked.” Had the Lord Jesus Christ given us one offer of mercy, and given one loud, thundering “knock,” and, being refused, left us to take the consequence, left us to our own miserable doom, you know we should have deserved it. Oh, deafen not your ears, men and women, against His call: do not be so blind to your own interest as to keep Him standing there: listen to what He says, “If any man hear My voice.” Notice that. He does not say, “If any man makes himself moral; if any man will try and make himself better.” That is not it, thank God! “If any man will shed oceans of tears.” No, that is not it. “If any man has deep sorrow.” No, that is not it. “If any man has powerful faith.” No, that is not it, What is it He says? “If any man will hear My voice.” As the preacher is speaking now, say, “God is speaking to my soul; He is speaking in all the infinity of His mercy: I cannot, I won’t deafen my ear against Him.” Well, as soon as the man hears the voice, he is on the highway to salvation. What more is wanted? Just one thing more. “If any man hear My voice, and will open unto Me.” It does not sound very much, does it? “Ah, but,” you say, “faith is so difficult. One man says, faith is this, and another says it is another thing.” Do you think the Lord Jesus Christ will stand back if you say that? I tell you, you will find those bolts and bars will fly back the moment you tell Him you are willing. Now, what are you going to do? Nay, what will He do? He says, “If any man will open to Me, I will come in.” Well, what will He do? Young man! you are thinking to yourself, “I should like to have Jesus as my Saviour, but if He comes to my heart He will bring a funeral procession with Him; my countenance will fall, my life will be overshadowed, my joy will be gone; my youthful pleasures will disappear, and I shall become mournful and morose.” I tell you that is the devil’s lie, not God’s truth. Wherever Jesus is, He carries a feast along with Him, and so He says to-night, “If any man will open unto Me, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with Me.” (W. H. M. H. Aitken, M. A.)

Christ at the door of the heart

This door, at which the Saviour knocks, is the heart of man. In the gospel there is more than enough to give full exercise to the most powerful intellect: yet the final aim is at the heart. What the heart is, that the man is; he who wins the heart has the whole man. The door is the sinner’s heart. That door is closed against Christ. He stands, and knocks. First, observe that it is the Lord who comes to us men, not we to Him. He not only comes to that door; He stands there waiting; nor doth He only stand and wait, but meekly standing thus and waiting, He knocks. So deeply does He long for entrance, that it is hard to make Him go. Canst thou not recall an hour, in which thy Saviour came to thee, and asked for entrance into thy thoughts and thy life? Many are called while yet children. The mind and heart of children are readier for the Lord than those of hardened men and women. Christ knocks at the hearts of children; if they do not open unto Him at that time, they may not do so until after many years; they may never do so, not even in the hour of death. “If any man hear My voice!” Can this be imagined, that any should not hear? or worse, that any would not hear? “The voice of the Lord is mighty in operation,” saith the psalmist: “the voice of the Lord is a glorious voice.” That voice may call; something within the heart may deaden the sound or shut it out. How dreadful is the state of such a soul! Marvel not, with this history before you, that the door is shut. The longer the heart is closed against its God, the harder to open it. The processes of nature have their due effect; the elements do their work in silence and surely; a work which every day makes more effectual. The bars, long stationary, rust in the staples; some time since, a child might have slipped them out and laid them aside; now, the strength of a man would essay the task in vain. The rains and snows of many a season have beaten into the lock and choked it up. In former days, a path led to this door; a path by which the good angels could reach it, and all honest Christian friends; a pathway, pleasant to the eye, fresh with flowers, clean of rubbish, and easy to be found. Alas! how great the change I The pathway now is rough with stones, or seems to be, for so rankly is it overgrown with weeds, that its outline is all but lost. Breasthigh on either hand are come up the briar and the thorn; the wall crumbles; it is grey with mould; an aspect of desolation weighs down the spirit as we gaze. Who would walk on yonder pathway? Who would try to approach that door? Yet there is One, who cometh up this way. He looks toward that closed and rusted door; He turns His holy feet to that forsaken path. His face is grave and sad, earnest, and full of love. He hath on Him the vesture of the High Priest who maketh intercession for sin. He is coming up the path. He has reached the gate. Behold, He standeth at the door. Without, around, all is silence. He knocks. Oh soul thus called by Jesus Christ, what answer wilt thou make? Perhaps there shall be no reply. The knock resounds within: the voice is heard outside; but within there is silence: neither knock nor voice can reach the ear of the spiritually dead. The door may shake in its rusty hinges; the bars may creak in the staples; but none comes to open. No wonder. There is nothing inside, save that worse than nothing, a dead soul; dead in sin, and buried in forgetfulness. (Morgan Dix, D. D.)

The Saviour knocking at the door

I. Who knocks? The Son of God, Immanuel, the Mediator betwixt God and man, the Prince of Peace, the Lord of glory, the Redeemer of the lost, Almighty to save, and all-sufficient to satisfy your souls. What hinders that you should not let Him in?

II. Different hearts are bolted with different bars. Some are closed by carelessness, and some by ignorance, and some by indolence, and some by frivolity, and some by prejudice, and some by pride, and some by strong besetting sins.

III. Were you to yield to the striving spirit--were you to withdraw these bolts, and admit into your soul a mighty and merciful Redeemer, what would be the consequence? Pardon of sin would come. Peace of conscience would come. The smile of God would come into your soul. (James Hamilton, D. D.)

Christ standing at the door

I. Who is he?

1. It is clear that He is some one of importance. “Behold,” He says, “I stand at the door; I who could never have been expected to stand there.” He speaks, you observe, as though His coming to us would surprise us; just as we might suppose a monarch to speak at a beggar’s door. And there is a reason for this. It is the glorious Redeemer who is here, the Monarch of earth and heaven. See then how this text sets forth at the very outset of it the Divine mercy. We think it a great thing that God should sit on a throne waiting for sinners to come to Him, but here He describes Himself as coming to sinners.

II. What is the Lord Jesus doing at our door?

1. On our part, it implies this mournful fact, that our hearts are all naturally shut against Christ, yea, fastened, bolted, and barred, against Him.

2. On Christ’s part, this expression implies a willingness to enter our hearts; and more than a willingness, an earnest desire to enter them.

III. What does this gracious stranger at our door wish us to do?

IV. What will this exalted being at our door do for us, if we let him in?

1. “I will come in to him.” There His presence is promised, and with it the light and comfort and bliss and glory of it.

2. “I will sup with him, and he with Me.” This implies a manifestation of Christ in the heart He dwells in, and intercourse and communion with it. (James Hamilton, M. A.)

At the door

I. Who stands? An ancient patriarch, by keeping open heart and open house for strangers, was privileged to entertain angels unawares. This day we may obtain s visit of the Lord of angels, if only we will let Him in.

II. How near he comes. “Behold, I stand at the door.” We are not much moved by anything that is far distant. Whether the visitant be coming for judgment or mercy, we take the matter lightly, as long as he is far away. A distant enemy does not make us tremble--a distant friend fails to make us glad. When your protector is distant, you tremble at danger; when he is near, you breathe freely again. How near the Son of God has come to us! He is our Brother: He touches us, and we touch Him, at all points.

III. How far off he is kept. “At the door.” He in great kindness comes to the door; we in great folly keep Him at the door. The sunlight travels far from its source in the deep of heaven--so far, that though it can be expressed in figures, the imagination fails to take in the magnitude of the sum; but when the rays of light have travelled unimpeded so far, and come to the door of my eye, if I shut that door--a thin film of flesh--the light is kept out, and I remain in darkness. Alas l the light that travelled so far, and came so near--the Light that sought entrance into my heart, and that I kept out--was the Light of life! If I keep out that Light, I abide in the darkness of death: there is no salvation in any other.

IV. He knocks for entrance. It is more than the kindness of His coming and the patience of His waiting. Besides coming near, He calls aloud: He does not permit us to forget His presence.

V. Many things hinder the hearing. Other thoughts occupy the mind; other sounds occupy the car. Either joy or grief may become a hindrance. The song of mirth and the wail of sorrow may both, by turns, drown the voice of that blessed Visitant who stands without and pleads for admission.

VI. Hear, and open. Hearing alone is not enough. It is not the wrath of God, but His mercy in Christ, that melts the iron fastenings and lifts up these shut gates, that the King of Glory may come in. The guilty refuse to open for Christ, even when they hear Him knocking. They have hard thoughts of Him. They think He comes to demand a righteousness which they cannot give, and to bind them over to the judgment because they cannot pay. God is love, and Christ is the outcome of His forgiving love to lost men. He comes to redeem you, and save you. It is when you know Him thus that you will open at His call. (W. Arnot, D. D.)

The heavenly Stranger received

I. “If any man hear my voice.”

1. That the voice of Christ is either external or internal; or, that which is addressed to the senses only, and that which reaches the heart.

2. The internal voice of Christ is various, according to the different circumstances of the persons to whom it is directed. To some it is an awakening voice: it rouses them from their carnal security. To those who are bowed down with a sense of sin, and wounded with the fiery darts of Divine wrath, it is a healing and comforting voice.

3. In order to hear His voice aright, our hearts must be renewed. Dead sinners cannot hear the voice of Christ; but His is a life-giving voice, and what it commands it communicates.

II. And open the door.

III. “I will come in to him.”

1. Nearness.

2. Possession.

3. Inhabitation.

He not only comes near to the soul to converse with it, but into it to dwell there, and becomes the vital principle of all holy obedience.

IV. “And I will sup with him, and he with Me.” (B. Beddome, M. A.)

The heart a house

Your heart is a house with many rooms; one apartment is decorated for the occupancy of pride; in another one covetousness may keep its iron safe; on the walls of another, perhaps, sensuality has hung some pictures that, if Christ enter, must be pulled down. Unbelief has chilled and darkened the whole house. Satan has a mortgage on the whole of it, and by and by will foreclose it. An enormous amount of sin has accumulated in every room and closet, for you have never had a “house-cleaning” since you were born. To that dwelling-place of sin, which may yet become a dwelling-place of endless anguish, my loving Saviour has come again. If you will stop the turmoil of business, or the noise of merriment long enough to listen, you will hear a marvellously sweet voice outside, “Behold, I stand here and knock; if thou wilt open this door I will come in.” Christ without means guilt; Christ within means pardon. Christ without means condemnation; Christ within means salvation. Christ shut out means hell; Christ admitted is the first instalment of heaven. (T. L. Cuyler, D. D.)

Christ dwelling in the heart

A widow woman lives by herself in a little cottage by the seashore. Of all whom she loved, only one survives--a lad at sea; all the rest have passed “from sunshine to the sunless land.” She has not set her eyes upon him for years. But her heart is full of him. She thinks of him by day, and dreams of him by night. His name is never missed out from her prayers. The winds speak about him; the stars speak about him; the waves speak about him, both in storm and calm. No one has difficulty in understanding how her boy dwells in her heart. Let that stand as a parable of what may be for every believer in the Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. (J. Culross, D. D.)

He knocks at our heart

Jesus stands at our gate and knocks, and there are many who never open to Him at all, and many more who open the door but slightly. The latter, while they may receive blessing, yet miss the fulness of Divine revealing which would flood their souls with love; the former miss altogether the sweetest benediction of life. (J. R. Miller, D. D.)

Christ standing

Whilst a man is standing He is going. (J. Trapp.)

Many fastenings to the sinner’s heart

When we were in Dublin, I went out one morning to an early meeting, and I found the servants had not opened the front door. So I pulled back a bolt, but I could not get the door open. Then I turned s key, but the door would not open. Then I found there was another bolt at the top, then I found there was another bolt at the bottom. Still the door would not open. Then I found there was a bar, and then I found a night-lock. I found there were five or six different fastenings. I am afraid that door represents every sinner’s heart. The door of his heart is locked, double-bolted, and barred. (D. L. Moody.)

The King slighted

When your King and Lord comes to claim the homage of your hearts, and to pay you a royal visit, you receive His message with coldness and indifference. You treat Him as the people of Alsace and Lorraine treated the Emperor of Germany and the Crown Prince after the Franco-Prussian war, when they pulled down their blinds, and locked and bolted their doors, and sat in gloomy silence as the emperor passed. They had some excuse for refusing to see him, as they were a conquered people, and his presence reminded them of their humiliation and defeat. But there is no excuse for you. (Isaac Marsden.)

God respects man’s freedom

It was said by a celebrated orator in the House of Lords a century ago, that an Englishman’s house is his castle, that the winds of heaven might enter by every window, that the rains might penetrate through every cranny, but that not even the sovereign of the land dare enter into it, however humble, without its owner’s permission. God treats you in the same way. He says, “Willingly open your heart to Me, and I will give you every blessing; but I must be made welcome.” (G. Warner.)

At the door

In Holman Hunt’s great picture called “The Light of the World,” we see One with gentle, patient face, standing at a door, which is ivy-covered, as if long closed. He is girt with the priestly breastplate. He bears in His hand the lamp of truth. He stands and knocks. There is no answer, and He still stands and knocks. His eye tells of love; His face beams with yearning. You look closely and you perceive that there is no knob or latch on the outside of the door. It can be opened only from within. Do you not see the meaning? (J. R. Miller, D. D.)