The Meaning of the 'Open Gate'


[David Adam about the meaning of the 'open gates' in Celtic folklore]
[A sermon by Kate Tristram about 'open gates', given in April 2005]
painting of an open gate

In Celtic folk tales a curse that could happen to a person was to get stuck in a field and not be able to get back out of it, to be stuck in that place for ever. It was seen as a definite curse to be unable to venture or to change. Yet we all know this experience in some small way; we all get ourselves stuck in routines and habits that act like shackles. We all refuse to open our eyes to the vision that is before us; too often we select what we hear and what we respond to.

The open gate is the opposite of this. It is the invitation to adventure and to grow, the call to be among the living and vital elements of the world. The open gate is the call to explore new areas of yourself and the world around you. It is a challenge to come and discover that the world and ourselves are filled with mystery and with the glory of God. It is the ever-present call to become pilgrims for the love of God, to take part in a romance that will enrich our hearts and our lives.

The open gate is the choice that God is always placing before us. It is a sign of the opportunity that is ours.

David Adam 'The Open Gate'


The Open Gate

A sermon given by Kate Tristram on Sunday 17th April in St. Mary's Church on Holy Island.

I wonder how many people have visited Traquair House, near the Scottish side of the Border. It is said to be the oldest inhabited house in Scotland, and certainly it is mysterious and spooky enough. As you approach there are two gates and two drives, parallel. One gate is open and you go in there. The other gate is locked, and has been locked for a long time. I was told that Bonnie Price Charlie rode out of that gate and immediately it was locked behind him: it will never be opened until there is again a Stuart on the throne. So, the probability is, it will never be opened.

It made me think of that other gate at the beginning of the Bible story, the gate of Garden of Eden which slammed shut after Adam and Eve were driven out, and the angel with the fiery sword took up his post to guard it. That also is a gate which will never open again. Then my mind switched to the closed gates of Holy Island a few years ago, when the foot-and-mouth scare confined us to the village. I for one used to go and stand by a field gate, and look along the paths that I could no longer walk, to the dunes and the beaches I could no longer visit, and find in myself a longing I did not know I had. It is too common an experience in human life, this experience of looking through a locked gate. We can all remember, if we look back, the sound of a door closing, an opportunity gone, a choice refused, a door that will not open again. Doors and gates, open and shut, real and symbolic, play a big part in our lives: they represent our power of control, our ability to let some things and people in and to keep others out. They also represent the limits of our control: it is only in a fairy tale that Ali Baba can say 'Open Sesame', and the door to the treasure will open.

'I am the gate of the sheep' said Jesus

The people who first listened to Jesus would be well able to imagine a practical scene. They knew all about a shepherd taking his flock in the evening to a walled enclosure, the sheepfold, carefully counting them in, and then himself lying down across the entrance to keep them safe from marauders during the night, and next morning leading them out. Jesus' hearers were used to the picture of God as a shepherd caring for his sheep. But here the picture is a little different. Jesus is the gate of the sheep. Through him the sheep go in and out and find pasture. The picture is not simply of protection of a passive flock. The picture is rather of creating opportunity, of creating freedom, so that the flock may get what they need.

There is a lot in the Easter season about gates. Is there any better way to express the victory of the Risen Christ over evil than the mediaeval story that the gates of the underworld simply fell in at his approach? Our Easter hymns are full of it:

'Vain the stone, the watch, the seal, Christ has burst the gates of hell.',

And the hymn goes on:

'Death in vain forbids his rise, Christ has opened Paradise.'

And so now an image of an open gate replaces that of a closed one. The old gate into the Garden of Eden is still closed and always will be, for its purpose was to stop the human race, in disobedience, selfishness and greed, seizing the fruit of the tree of life to their own eternal misery. But the gift of the fruit of the tree of life, pure gift, is another matter. God has found another way to give to people that which they must not and cannot seize for themselves. And so, in the words of the beautiful Eucharistic Preface for Easter, we can pray to the Father

'Jesus Christ, your risen Son, has conquered the powers of death and hell and restored in men and women the image of your glory.'
'He has placed them once more in Paradise and opened to them the gate of life immortal.' Jesus has become 'the gate of the sheep'.

Gates of an Eternal City

If we look at the New Testament, and especially at that book in it which above all gives us pictures of life immortal, the book of Revelation, we find it full of open doors/gates. The first thing the seer is aware of in heaven is an open door, through which he may go in. In his great vision of the life of heaven and a radiant city, the new Jerusalem, the city of course has gates, but, he says, 'its gates will never be shut by day - and there will be no night there. People will bring into it the glory and the honour of the nations.' Open gates, through which God welcomes all that the human race can offer, the glory and the honour of the nations. Only evil is excluded, and evil has been conquered. This then is our Easter faith:

'See the prince of darkness quelled Heaven's bright gates are open held.'

There are two more pictures of an open door to consider, both from that same Book of Revelation. In the first the Lord says to his followers. 'See, I have set before you an open door, which no one is able to shut.'

We have for the moment left the vision of heaven, and we are back with the choices of everyday life. God is a great creator of opportunity for us - indeed I think it is what he does all day, constantly shaping our world so that, even though we are blind to his opportunities or refuse them we are always offered more: it is an open door that is before us. The other picture is that incredibly gracious image in which Christ himself stands outside the door of our lives and knocks: I say, incredibly gracious because he is Lord of all and no door could stand against him, and yet he will knock, and request permission to come in.

It is a rich metaphor, this one of gates and doors in life. The doors that seem to be closed and locked represent so much sadness: if only, we say, I hadn't done that, or if only I had done the other, or if only circumstances had been different. That little phrase 'if only' is perhaps the most sorrowful in the language. And indeed we do and must bear the burden of our mistakes and failures, for how else are we to grow? It is pointless to batter on a locked door, and yet... And yet. God can always find another way, as he found another way to open to us the gate of eternal life.

So heaven's bright gates are open. Are we looking forward to going in? I think that while we are strong and active and fully involved in this life God keeps the vision of heaven closed a little to us, so that we can serve him here. But when the time comes it may well be different. I think of our great scholar Bede who, when he knew he was dying, said, 'I have had a long life, and the Most High has ordered it graciously. But now my eyes long to see the King in his beauty.' And so, with thankfulness for what had been given, but with great eagerness for what was still to come, he departed. I wonder, could there be a better way for a Christian to die?

Kate Tristram, Holy Island 17 April