“Strive to Enter Through the Narrow Door” – A Deep, Simple Homily for Everyday Life from Luke 13:22–30
Praise be to Jesus Christ 🙏
There was once a traveller who reached a monastery built on a hilltop. At the entrance, there were two doors. One was wide and beautifully carved. Many people passed through it laughing, chatting, and taking pictures. The other door was small, narrow, and plain. Hardly anyone noticed it. The traveller was curious and asked a monk standing nearby, “Which door leads to the heart of the monastery?” The monk smiled and said, “The narrow one. The other leads only to the courtyard. If you want to go deeper, you must bend low, let go of what you carry, and go through the narrow door.”
Jesus says in today’s Gospel, “Strive to enter through the narrow door.” (Luke 13:24)
That narrow door is not something we find only at the end of life. It is here. It is now. It appears every day — in school, at home, in marriage, in the workplace, and even within ourselves. It is not made of wood or stone. It is made of choices.
For a child, the narrow door may be choosing to study when others are copying in the exam. The wide road is cheating and passing easily. The narrow door is the hard path of honesty and effort.
For a teenager, the wide road is to follow the crowd — to lie to parents, to watch what is wrong, to join the wrong company. The narrow door is to say no, even if it means losing popularity.
In married life, we all know it is not always sweet and romantic. Living with a husband who drinks is hard. But still cooking, praying, hoping, and not giving up — that is walking through the narrow door. For a husband, bearing with a wife who keeps finding fault — and still choosing to love her patiently, without reacting in anger — is a narrow door.
Raising many children with limited income is a narrow door. Welcoming a disabled child or an unexpected pregnancy is not easy — but those who walk that path often discover a joy this world cannot understand.
For young people today, saving money for parents instead of buying new phones, helping in the house when friends are out for a movie, refusing to fall into impure relationships — these are all narrow doors.
In religious life and priesthood, the narrow door is often the daily, hidden sacrifices: forgiving a brother or sister who hurt you, obeying your superior when you don’t agree, working hard in silence, letting go of your desire to be noticed. These things make no noise — but heaven sees.
Even in sickness, the narrow door is to accept the pain with trust, without bitterness. To smile through the suffering and still say, “Thank you, Lord.” That is holiness.
Now, why does Jesus ask us to take the narrow door? Is He making life difficult for us? No. He knows that wide roads may be easier, but they don’t go deep. They don’t take us to joy that lasts. They only offer quick results — not peace.
Think of athletes. They go through strict training. The wide road is to relax, eat what they want, avoid practice. But they strive, they struggle, they discipline their body — because they are aiming for a prize.
In the same way, heaven is not for those who just hear the Word but for those who live it, who walk the narrow way of truth, love, and sacrifice.
Look at Jesus. He did not choose comfort. He chose the Cross — the narrowest door of all. Not because He had to, but because He loved us. And He says to us: “Follow Me.” That means, don’t run from the narrow doors of your life. Walk through them. I am with you.
Yes, we all want a life without pain, without struggle, without challenge. But real love is proved in fire. Real peace is found in sacrifice. And the narrow door, though hard, leads to joy that is full, and life that is eternal.
Lord, when I feel tired of walking the hard road, remind me that You are walking with me through every narrow door.
