Open the Door – from the book By Lamplight by Sr. Genevieve Glen, OSB
Come, let us walk in the light of the Lord.
—Isaiah 2:5
When I wake up in the early morning dark, the door of my room is outlined faintly in light from the hall. Out there are morning coffee, notes about the day on the white board on the way to the coffee pot, information about what liturgy we’re celebrating today, and, of course, the rest of my community. Out there are the good things that go a long way toward making me who I am.
“Come,” says the prophet Isaiah. In other words, we have to leave where we are and go somewhere else. He’s inviting us to get up from whatever darkness we might be inhabiting right now and go out there, to the house of God, from which flows the one essential light: the light of the Lord. Without that light, we risk wandering around in the dark all day, even when kitchen lights, office lights, warehouse lights, school lights, and a plethora of other lights shine around us everywhere we go. Of course, we know something Isaiah could only hope for: the essential light is not a bulb flipped on by a switch, but Jesus Christ, a person, “the light of the world” (John 8:12). For us, he is the light that leads us through and beyond every dark place. We don’t always see or recognize him among all those other bright and familiar lights. But God has given us a book of instructions to help us recognize which light is which and to guide us to the one that will lead us even through the ultimate darkness of death. We know this book as the Bible: “Your word is a lamp for my feet, / and a light for my path” (Ps 119:105).
Of course, this path lets us go in two directions: out and in. The prophet invites us to go out—to leave where we are and go somewhere we aren’t yet. But the path on which the Word of God sets our feet can also take us in. We live in Christ, the Light, so we can expect to find that light in the depths of our lives, the depths of our minds and hearts. However, “in” may be the last place we want to go to seek it. When we turn in-ward, we may have to face the dark places of our own hearts. We all have them, and we don’t usually want to go there. But if we do, we may see a door outlined in light. And we may hear someone knocking at it, and a voice saying, “Here I am! I stand at the door knocking! Let me in so we can sit down together for a while!” (see Rev 3:20). And when we open the door, we will find that Christ is there, in our deepest center, flooding our interior darkness with light. That flood of light banishes the darkness, warms the cold places, and gives us the energy to embrace life as it comes to us today.
Come. Take up the invitation. Dare to walk out of the dark— whether it’s loneliness, emptiness, fear, anger, or some other misery. Open the door that is in you. The Light that you meet there can be blinding. You may find yourself disoriented for a bit, but just stay for a while on the threshold till the eyes of your heart adjust. Then go wherever the Light shines. You might be surprised by where the path leads.
© 2021 by Genevieve Glen, OSB. Published by Liturgical Press, Collegeville, Minnesota. Used with permission.