Last Wednesday, I had the chance to attend an interfaith network gathering, held once a year since 1989. About fifty people came—Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Orthodox Christians, and us Catholics—all in one room.
We listened to each other’s faith. We didn’t argue, and we didn’t try to prove who was right. People shared what their faith means to them and how it shapes their daily lives. Most importantly, everyone was concerned about peace in the world. I was deeply moved by the respect and goodwill. Different traditions, different prayers, different rituals—but deep down, the same longing for peace, for goodness, for God.
After the meeting, during social time and refreshments, I thought to myself: This is what Jesus was talking about. Today’s Gospel says: “People will come from east and west, from north and south, and will eat in the kingdom of God.” Even though we come from different religions, or even no faith, we are together seeking God’s kingdom.
In the first reading, we see that Isaiah foresaw this: God will gather “all nations of every language” to see His glory. That’s the same banquet—the one I glimpsed on Wednesday. God’s dream is for everyone, from every people, to find a home in Him.
But Jesus also says something challenging: “Strive to enter through the narrow door.” What does that mean? The narrow door is not about exclusion. Jesus doesn’t shut people out. In fact, He says the opposite: the table is open to all nations. The narrow door is about how we enter.
Let us imagine this: we are going to the airport. At the entrance, there is a wide gate—everyone can go through, and we can carry whatever we want—our big baggage, our burdens, and our selfishness.
But then we come to the security check—looks like the narrow door. We can’t pass through if we’re still holding on to all that baggage. We have to put it down, let it go, and travel light.
In the same way, Jesus invites us through the narrow door of life. But it’s not just about leaving behind baggage like pride or grudges. Often, we carry narrow thinking, narrow beliefs, and narrow love. We want life only on our terms, or only for people like us. The narrow door calls us to open our minds, open our hearts, and open our lives.
Jesus is always open, but He asks us to leave behind what weighs us down so we can enter fully and freely. He is the way of humility, the way of love, and the way of service. Pope Francis put it beautifully: the door is narrow because it demands sacrifice, but it is wide because it is open to everyone—not just the perfect people, not just one nation or one group. His door is never closed, but He asks us to come simply, with open hands and open hearts.
The second reading reminds us that it’s not always easy. Hebrews tells us: “The Lord disciplines those whom He loves.” The challenges, the struggles, even the narrow doors of life, are not punishments but opportunities. They shape us, strengthen us, and make us more like Christ. Think of parents raising children—it’s not always easy, but the effort and discipline is love. Think of athletes training—it hurts, but the effort prepares them for the race. In the same way, the difficulties of our faith journey help us grow.
So, here’s the invitation this week for each of us: don’t be afraid of the narrow door. Yes, it requires humility, surrender, and letting go of pride. But it leads to a feast more joyful than we can imagine.
Let us walk toward that door with Christ. The simple tips are travel light, choose love and live with humility. At the end of the day we will find ourselves welcomed at God’s great banquet and in God’s kingdom.
Amen.