TOWARDS THE END of the section of the Book of Matthew that defines Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount (cf. Matt. 5:1-7:29), he says “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” (Matt. 7:7) ‘Ask,’ ‘seek,’ and ‘knock’ are all actions over which we have control. We may choose whether or not to execute any one of them, any combination of them, or all of them. Why would we want to make such a choice, or choices—what is it that would prompt us to choose what Jesus has illustrated as a very different way of life?
The context of this extended sermon is set by what leads up to it. “Jesus went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the good news of the kingdom, and healing every disease and sickness among the people. People brought to him all who were ill, and he healed them. Large crowds followed him.” (Matt. 4:23-25) Matthew later describes the forces working within Jesus himself, as well as those working in the people who were so often drawn irresistibly to him. “When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.” (Matt. 9:36)
This fulfills the heart earlier ascribed to the future Messiah by the prophet Isaiah. “He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.” (Isa. 40:11) And it also thoroughly illustrates the condition of people who feel that they have nowhere to turn: ‘they were harassed and helpless,’ and links that directly to the fact that they have no trusted leader— ‘like sheep without a shepherd.’
The need is clearly established, and a promising solution is at hand. “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matt. 11:28) But everyone—the people of Jesus’ time, today’s throngs of the disenchanted and dispossessed, and you and me—lives in their own zone of experience. All change involves risk. In some of life’s changes, the risk seems small; perhaps in a local job promotion it will bring on uncomfortable responsibilities, but the foreseeable rewards outweigh the new accountabilities. But maybe the job offer is with a different company that works overseas, and requires moving and working in an entirely different culture—now the risks are far higher, even if the rewards are greater. The internal conflicts in making such a choice are complex, and anxiety-laden. Risk and reward take on great weight. The challenge from Jesus awaits a response: ‘Knock, and the door will be opened.’ We timidly wonder what is on the other side of the door.
The popular American television game show “Let’s Make a Deal” began in 1963, and is still running today; in fact, it has spread to different countries and different languages. As each show quickly develops, contestants are given a choice about a prize behind a door they’ve already opened; they can trade what they currently have for what’s behind another door. It is a choice that pits a known against an unknown, and that clearly places loss and gain in a tense moment of decision. In 1975, mathematician Steve Selvin posed a statistical probability question—famously known as “The Monty Hall” problem, named for the original game show host—which was whether or not to take the risk inherent in a Door 1, Door 2, and Door 3 set of choices. Although the answer was counter-intuitive, the unknown reward was mathematically in clear favor of the risk.
Why is this important? Because it gives us an understanding of the underlying tendency of choice for so many of the harassed and helpless. Risk and reward have already been stacked against them, and has clearly been experientially proven. Risk aversion is the normative behavior, even when the reward seems great.
It’s not only that Jesus is offering a great but seemingly unclear reward. The effort that must be expended for the reward is not just difficult; it requires every ounce of will. “You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.” (Jer. 29:13) What’s behind the door may be tantalizing, but someone who’s been disappointed time and time again will have strong difficulty exerting this extreme force of will. Something different must happen that alters the past response patterns.
Jesus begins his offer of a radically different life with the softest of the choices, one that still involves free will, but does so in the context not of what you or I can accomplish through activity, but instead through supplication. ‘Ask.’ Don’t stand on the pride of personal choice, because this obviously hasn’t worked. Not just ask, but ‘Ask, and it will be given.’ And less we miss the point, in this same parable he reinforces this. “If you know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!” (Matt. 7:11) We are forced to shift our thoughts from the austere coldness of an uncaring external world to the warmth of a family atmosphere. An intimacy that includes trust makes its way into our risk averse behavior. The love we extend to our family is the love that God extends to us. The risk is eased, the decision is more palatable. Not all of this decision is our burden. We just need to ask. And to know there are two sides to the right door: “Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me.” (Rev. 3:20) Given the outcomes, this should be an easy decision.
Q. Is someone knocking at my door?
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