Friendly Freethinker: Knocking at the Door of Your Mind

In those long ago Evangelical days, we couldn’t wait to tell everyone the “good news” of our faith. Any other news couldn’t be good.

One central message we promoted was that each person had to “accept Jesus into their heart.” The most popular Bible verse we used was, oddly enough, from the violently apocalyptic Book of Revelation (3:20): “Behold I stand at the door and knock.” Why was Jesus knocking on a door? Apparently because he was hungry: “If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with them, and they with me.” This could almost be funny, but we were dead serious. Adult Bible teachers told us this was really about Jesus’ desire to enter our hearts; they convinced us it was the perfect verse to use in evangelism.

In this faith framework, a person is empty (with a “God-shaped hole” inside), until God is invited to be a resident. We were taught that there is not only a home and a hole within us, but there was a throne too! Jesus needed to be invited in to sit on the “throne of your life,” a private and personal Lord and Savior. He must be King, ruler of your life. These images were stamped on our brains.  In some ways, this took center stage in the drama of our faith.  Clearly, this is personalistic faith at its most fundamental level. 

Now, after leaving that adolescent mindset far behind, I wonder: What if it was not so much about the heart as the head?  Imagine if this was actually about Jesus wanting to be in our mind, our thoughts, our consciousness.  It was certainly true in the case of many of our youthful evangelists, this verse was stuck in our brains, imprinted on our beliefs. Jesus is outside; we have to let him come inside.  No one ever explained the logistics of this “spiritual entrance.”

How is it that the Lord of the Universe is somehow left outside, a beggar constantly trying to find a way into “houses”—hearts, minds, lives? Isn’t God supposed to be everywhere at all times?  Does this door-to-door deity make sense? It did when we imagined we “opened the door” to him and he stepped inside. Yet, he was the guest who was never going to leave. And if he was in me, did that mean that what I thought and believed, said and did, was what he was doing in and through me? Was I merely a shell, a puppet, for him to do whatever he wanted through me? Now, that seems rather silly, if not spooky.

The verse right before Revelation 3:20 is Jesus speaking about rebuking, disciplining his followers so they will repent. Why seek to enter someone’s home just to share a meal? No, he wants to make sure they love him and if they don’t show that in the correct way, turning from their evil ways, he will be very upset—and Judgment Day is Coming! Think of the rest of the Book of Revelation, the terrible punishments, the bloody wars, awaiting the unfaithful.  Might we assume the figure of Christ wants to make sure people have a true faith, and what better way to test them but over dinner?  That concept is a little hard to swallow. 

Freethinkers—those who choose not to merely accept old ways of thinking—may decide this kind of personalistic piety is more harmful than helpful or healing.  If one believes they are empty (purposeless, hopeless) unless they choose to invite a particular divine figure to enter and rule their every thought and decision, what does this say about the human person? To claim that someone cannot be fulfilled and happy, living a moral life, without a particular religious belief, disrespects what it means to be human. It ignores the fact that millions live well without a “Christ-centered” household, and many more millions live well without any faith at all. 

The “Jesus at the door” meme, like so many other Bible verses, has been used and misused for a long time. If a god will only “sup” with an individual who has surrendered their will and their mind to god—given over the keys to their “home”—I would consider that a dangerous visitor.  Believers are told that faith is primarily a personal decision, that God waits at the threshold to enter and claim it all.  What does this really say about faith, about God, about the whole life and message of Jesus?  The doom and gloom of the Book of Revelation gives us a hint:  faith born from fear can’t be good for the heart, head or home.

Not every knock on the door should be answered.

Chris Highland was a Protestant minister and interfaith chaplain for many years before becoming a humanist celebrant and author. He lives in Asheville, North Carolina. His website is www.chighland.com.