A gate called…
I am the gate.
Think of Marble Arch or the Arc de Triomphe, the Gateway Arch or Brandenburg Gate. These entrances with grand names and impressive architecture are just tourist attractions now. They don’t really lead anywhere or open onto some grand celestial pathway. Some just stand awkwardly in the middle of a bustling city, watching as the world gets on around them.
When Jesus said, “I am the gate,” he knew that it would be a despised, hidden, unimpressive, morbid, weak and foolish looking structure. He himself would be the entrance to Salvation Way – a gate that actually led somewhere – a road that brings life in all its fullness and satisfaction.
We’ve been preaching through the ‘I Am’ sayings of John’s gospel at church recently. What’s struck me, is that all the things Jesus caims to be, we so often think are found elsewhere. Be it bread or light, resurrection or truth. Most would say, my bread comes from Tesco’s; there’s a big ball of gas called the sun that gives me light; my resurrection comes in all sorts of forms – a haircut or makeover, or a new car or job; and truth, well it’s all relative isn’t it?
But Jesus claims each of these things for himself. He literally is each of these things personified. He is bread, providing all we need to live; he is light, opening our blind eyes; he is resurrection, our all satisfying rebirth; and he is truth.
The gate is no different. We may only walk down the path that leads to true life by entering through the Small Gate.
Humble yourself, remember the road we once walked. Our glorious King and Saviour hasn’t built a colossal archway with which to show off to the world. Rejoice that you’ve found that rugged little gate. You heard it as it swung on its rusty old hinges – creaking your name – and at his beckoning you walked through.
Through the Gate to life!