Abhineet Agarwal has written a wonderfully strange and haunting little story entitled “The House with No Door.” It is a surrealist story about a house that has no door and a town’s struggle to understand what that fact means. It is also about a woman who finally manages to enter the house with no door.
The house was strange not only in the sense that it had no door but also in the sense that no one had ever entered it; for it is common sense that no one can enter a house with no door…
But everyone knew that there was something about the house that allowed entry to only some sort of people — this “something” would forever remain a frustrating mystery, a mystery that would make the clouds over the house rumble with a forlorn anger and the trees whisper in a language only the wind understood. This mystery of the criteria required for entering the house with no door is the reason why no one had ever entered it. That’s why the townsfolk had created far-fetched legends around the house in a half-hearted attempt to explain the light noises that came from the house: there was much talk of angry ghosts and numerous hearsay that elucidated the disturbances with the help of stories of sad spirits.
I love that phrase: “This mystery of the criteria required for entering…”
How one could enter the house with no door seemed to almost drive the townspeople mad.
Many were too afraid to even try to enter the house, though they wanted to.
Others thought about entering the house through the windows but did not because they found the idea of doing so to be “blasphemous” and disrespectful to the architects.
The children cried and the pi-dogs barked, the women beat their breasts, and the earth shook with rage if someone came too close to the windows of the house. Thus the age-old question remained forever unanswered: how was one supposed to enter the house with no door?
Others felt that “maybe, the house with no door was made in such a way because no one was supposed to enter it.”
Others felt that, no, the house with no door was to be entered.
Others thought the whole house was a prank!
Others thought the house was haunted and should be left alone.
Finally, one lady enters the house. She figures out what the house is. We are told in the story what the house means and she is able to enter it.
Let me spell it out nonetheless. Even though I personally feel that the answer is an undemanding one, let me proceed to record it, just so that this “enigma” is finally resolved: you don’t need doors to enter houses—you need feet.
When asked how she had finally entered the house with no door, this would be her raging reply: “I simply walked in.”[1]
It is, again, a wonderfully strange little story, and worth the time it takes to read it.
I am struck by that story: A house with no door, a house with no way in. And, finally, a way in.
It strikes me further that the same conversations were surrounding the Kingdom of God in the first century. Is there a door? Is there a way in? Who can enter? How do we get in?
Some self-proclaimed guardians of the Kingdom said they were the keepers of the door and they would determine who could go in.
Some said everybody could go into the Kingdom.
Some said nobody could enter.
Some completely misunderstood what the Kingdom was.
But what about Jesus? What did Jesus say about entering the Kingdom? Does it have a door? And, if so, how do we enter?