When my family travels, we usually stop at the kind of hotels that don’t have a doorman. We don’t pull up and get out of our shiny black Aston Martin while the valet parks our car. We’re not offered an umbrella if it’s raining nor do we get a nod from someone in a uniform who holds the door for us. No, we just walk in, walk up to the desk, give the clerk our credit card, get the room keys, and walk away. No fancy service for us! You might say we’re do-it-yourself-ers when it comes to travel.
For people who, on their honeymoon, stopped at the grocery store for meal supplies, this makes perfect sense. We started out traveling on the cheap and haven’t really changed that part of our identity in thirty years of marriage. Part of me wonders what it would be like to travel differently, though; to jet somewhere and eat fancy food while I’m up in the air; to have a well-used passport; and to stay at the kind of hotels that have someone at the door.
Someone at the door. We don’t know their name, and embarrassingly enough, we probably don’t care that we don’t know. They’re at their station to provide a service. They are the invisible presence that helps, directs, assures, and serves. They wear a uniform and maybe a cap.
You know the scripture that says I’d rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked? (Psalm 84:10) I’ve noticed that we sing songs using the first part of that verse: Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere; but no one sings the second part of the verse, and I don’t think it’s because we can’t think of a catchy tune for it. We hear catchy tunes for cat food, right? Don’t tell me a jingle with the singular lyric “meow” isn’t at this minute playing in your head!
No, I think it’s because we’d all rather be at the party inside than standing at the door opening and closing it, picking up luggage, or giving directions to the nearest drugstore. We want to be where the action is. We want to be part of the action. In fact, if we’re truthful, we’d like to have a little bit of the action be about us, or, at the very least, be more important than the doorkeeper.
When we think of being a servant of sorts, we’d like to have a photo of us wearing some shade of khaki floating around social media showing the lengths we go to serve and how much we’re willing to sacrifice. Maybe we’d like to be formally dressed – with or without sequins – on a stage telling the world what Jesus means to us. In that picture, there’s a tear in the eye of an audience member touched by our song or testimony. Or perhaps we’re more part of the grunge crowd and when we’re present, the room doesn’t need air conditioning because we’re just that cool. Maybe we’re with a service group wearing matching tee shirts that identify us as doing something good. And we are! All of these scenarios are good. In fact, very good. But just outside by the door . . .
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