By Jon Beaty
Many European buildings that once housed Protestant churches are now largely empty or transformed into museums, skateboard parks, gyms, supermarkets and dance clubs. Repurposed for secular pursuits, these structures stand as monuments to a once-thriving Protestant movement that gradually lost its mission. These houses of worship whose doors once opened each Sunday to welcome the faithful, now welcome tourists, skaters, exercisers, shoppers and dancers.
This sobering reality brings urgency to Jesus’ words to the Laodicean church: "Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and dine with him, and he with Me" (Revelation 3:20). Jesus stands knocking at two doors simultaneously—the door of our individual hearts and the door of His church. Both must be opened to avoid the sad demise of our own faith and the demise of the church intended to build up our faith.
The Heart's Locked Door
The first door is intensely personal. In a Laodicean condition, Jesus says we've convinced ourselves that we're "rich, have become wealthy, and have need of nothing" (Revelation 3:17). We've accumulated doctrinal knowledge and religious routines, yet somehow Jesus remains outside, knocking for entrance. Our hearts have become like well-furnished but tightly sealed rooms—comfortable for us but inaccessible to Him.
This isn't the gentle rap of a casual visitor. The Greek word for "knock" (krouo) suggests persistent, urgent knocking. Jesus isn't politely requesting entry; He's urgently seeking access to hearts that have grown cold despite their religious activity. We can maintain the appearance of spiritual vitality while keeping our hearts carefully guarded against His transforming presence.
The tragedy of the Laodicean condition isn't outright rebellion but subtle self-sufficiency. Its members have learned to function in religious settings without genuine dependence on Jesus. They’ve mastered the language of faith while maintaining hearts that remain fundamentally unchanged.
The Church's Barricaded Door
But Jesus knocks at a second door—the door of His church. Jesus' parable of the sheep and goats in Matthew 25:31-46 reveals that Jesus identifies completely with "the least of these": "I was hungry and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger and you took Me in."
Here's the profound truth: Jesus knocks at our church doors disguised as "the least of these." Every hungry person, every lonely neighbor, every struggling family, every disillusioned youth represents Jesus needing an invitation to enter into the body of Christ. When we close our doors to them, we close them to Him.
The Laodicean church is a sanctuary for the comfortable rather than a hospital for the broken. Its lukewarm environment is a place where the "least of these" feel unwelcome. The Laodicean church has unwittingly barricaded our doors against Jesus Himself, who identifies completely with society's most vulnerable members. So, He is outside, knocking.
The Interconnected Doors
These two doors aren't separate; they're interconnected. We cannot truly open our hearts to Jesus while keeping our church doors closed to those He identifies as His own. When Jesus enters our hearts, His compassion begins to flow through us toward others. When we serve "the least of these," we encounter Christ in ways that deepen our personal relationship with Him.
Ellen White understood this connection: "The commission given to the disciples is given to all who are connected with Christ. They are to make any and every sacrifice for the joy of seeing the souls saved who are perishing out of Christ," (Letters & Manuscripts Vol. 13 (1898), Ms.. 61, par. 3.). Opening our hearts to Jesus naturally leads to opening our doors to others.
This interconnection explains why personal devotion divorced from service often leads to spiritual stagnation, while service divorced from personal communion with Jesus leads to burnout. Both doors must open for authentic spiritual vitality to flourish.
Opening Both Doors
How do we open both doors? The process requires intentional action in three areas:
OPEN the Door of Our Heart and the Church: This means dismantling the barriers that keep Jesus outside. For our hearts, it means confessing our spiritual poverty and inviting His presence into every area of our lives. For our church, it means being known in our community as people who love like Jesus, especially those society considers "least."
This requires vulnerability. We must acknowledge that our spiritual self-sufficiency is actually spiritual poverty. We must admit that our comfortable church cultures may be barriers to those who need Jesus most.
SHOW Compassion to "the Least of These": Ellen White counseled, "The world is full of suffering; go, and preach the gospel to the poor, heal the sick. This is the work to be connected with the gospel message," (Ibid.) Every act of compassion opens our hearts wider to Jesus while opening our church doors wider to the community.
Compassion isn't merely feeling sorry for others; it's feeling with them deeply enough to act. When we show genuine compassion to "the least of these," we create space for Jesus’ Holy Spirit to work in both their lives and ours.
LIVE with Christ's Righteousness: When Jesus enters our hearts, His character begins to transform us. We start seeing others as He sees them—not as interruptions to our comfort but as opportunities for divine encounter. The church transforms from being a place to invite people into a living body that reveals the likeness of Christ’s character to the world.
Living with Christ&'s righteousness means allowing His values to reshape our priorities, His love to redirect our resources, and His mission to redefine our purpose.
The Dining Experience
Jesus promises that when we open the door, He will "come in and dine with us." This isn't a hurried meal but an intimate dining experience. In Eastern culture, sharing a meal signifies close relationship and mutual commitment. Jesus desires this level of intimacy with both our hearts and our church communities.
But notice the progression: first the knocking, then the opening, then the dining. Jesus won't force entry into either door. He knocks persistently, urgently, but He waits for our invitation. The choice remains ours.
The Urgency of Now
The empty Protestant churches of Europe remind us that churches who close their doors to Jesus will permanently close when they fail to respond to Jesus. Christ stands at two doors—heart and church—knocking with nail-scarred hands. He comes not as a harsh judge but as a loving friend, seeking entrance into our hearts and through our churches to a world in desperate need.
The question isn't whether He's knocking. The question is whether we're listening. And more importantly, whether we're opening both doors to welcome Him in. For in the end, how we treat "the least of these" reveals whether we've truly opened our hearts to the One who became least of all for our salvation.
The double door awaits. Christ stands knocking. Will you let Him in?