HARVEST. Spring 2020 | Page 19

To Walk Through A Doorway Hope McGovern It is never an innocuous thing to walk through a doorway. There must have been a choice, a decision to leave behind one backdrop in favor of another. You must go this way or that, fall on only one side of the threshold. To enter through a doorway means to leave the place you were before. The Ancient Romans personified this notion with Janus—the two- faced god of transitions, the keeper of doorways. In him was both life and death, war and peace, past and future. He was the door. But there is never just one door. Each junction begets another, and so the journey begins. As if in a labyrinth, we know not whether a single choice will bring us to our end or reveal us again to the expectant sunlight. Where do we end up? Many go down to Egypt, searching for milk and honey, but find only chains. Some make their way step-by-step to Babylon, steeped in riches bought by the Maybe paradise will exploitation of the weak. Most, not be ignorant of though, just sit and wait for Godot beside the same broken pain, but replete with wells. But none find their way agony that has been back to the high places of the felt to the full and then Garden. mended at its source. Has the path to paradise been lost? We have stumbled in the dark long enough—if only we could find the right door, we might return to a former state of innocence. We step with tired feet into traditions of shame, hoping moral austerity will guide us back to paradise. We linger at each mirage, desperate to espy the shape of a fruit tree. Or, stubbornly, we declare paradise has always been all around us, never mind the dark and cold. At each threshold we ready ourselves, sure that this path will lead to the light. But the object of our reaching eludes our grasping hands, and we never grow less weary. Shall we walk backwards, retrace our steps through each doorway until chaos recedes and we walk in the Garden without shame once again? Or perhaps we have only thought we knew what paradise would look like. Perhaps paradise will not look like tears that have never been cried, but tears that have been wiped away by loving hands. Maybe paradise will not be ignorant of pain, but replete with agony that has been felt to the full and then mended at its source. Perhaps it is not a garden at all to which we go, but a gleaming city on a hill. Our paradise lies ahead, not behind. Another says, “I am the Door” (John 10:9, ESV), though He does not wear two faces. Through His door is only life, only peace, only a future awash with light. Leaving behind the labyrinth of Sheol, we Passover from death to life and set out on a path for the Celestial City. The way is narrow, but if we will only pass through the Bloodied doorway, we will reach it. All that remains, then, is to cross the final threshold. Therefore, seeker, enter in. “‘What are we born for?’ ‘For infinite happiness,’ said the Spirit. ‘You can step out into it at any moment...’” -C.S. Lewis, The Great Divorce Hope McGovern '19 graduated with a degree in Engineering Physics. 19