When Jesus spoke of a broad and a narrow way, certain images would come to the mind of his listeners. There was a broad way in Galilee down which the Roman legions marched. To the multitudes listening to Jesus, the legionnaires were messengers of destruction. It was a road associated with death.
There were narrow tracks in Galilee as well. The Maccabees had used these to bring about victory over the Syrians and a cherished time of freedom. The Galileans would know these paths well where they could move safely, apart from their enemies.
In our times, the broad and narrow ways evoke different images. The broad way brings to mind expressways that widen to as many as 18 lanes. They carry the world on its fast track as people rush about. The narrow way that comes to mind will differ depending on our own experience. It may be a wilderness footpath, perhaps a cycling path or a quiet country road.
On the narrow way, we may think of going single file or of being alone, by ourselves. Surely, the narrow way is not a crowded one for “strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it” (Matt. 7:14).
How few? How narrow?
Do we belong to the “few?” Probably we think that we do or there would be little point in claiming to have the Truth. Somewhat naturally, then, to avoid slipping onto the broad way, we choose as narrow a path as we can find.
Therein lies a problem. The broad way, in all its forms, is associated with the “flesh.” The narrow way, however, can reflect an exclusiveness that is selfish, conceited and unloving to our neighbors.
We deal with the problem by defining our “neighbors” as those who are baptized into an exclusive society called the ecclesia. Outside the ecclesia, others may live right next door but be considered part of the world, a world we are “in” but are not “of.”
Have we defined the “way” narrowly enough? Some do not think we have. Those considered “neighbors” (brethren) must be in complete agreement with all that one does or says or they are soon excluded from fellowship, either by unofficial separation or by public withdrawal. Carried far enough, this approach can leave us walking single file on a very narrow path indeed.
He walked with them
When Jesus appeared to two disciples on the road to Emmaus, he involved them in exposition of the prophecies about himself. They walked side by side along the path. They were in fellowship, sharing a communion that climaxed in a breaking of bread at journey’s end.
The two who walked may have been husband and wife but they found a way to make room for another.
Surely it is incumbent upon all brethren and sisters to seek to make room for another, by their side. The path we tread is not so narrow that someone joining on the right side eases another on the left side off the track. If we define our path as consisting of absolute agreement with ourselves on teaching and practice, we can be certain we will always walk alone.
His own were not perfect
At the last supper, the breaking of bread had been shared and eleven left with the Master to the garden on the mount. From among them, three accompanied him further. Later that night, two would follow him inside the house of the high priest. After that, Jesus walked alone, only his Father was with him.
When meeting to remember the path he chose, is it to narrow the dimension down to a single-file path? Or are we prepared to tolerate some idiosyncrasies of the other, to have sympathy for their shortcomings, to recognize we can’t get there alone and that none of us is perfect?
A right perspective
The experience of the couple on the road to Emmaus became a standard among the brethren at Jerusalem. “They continued steadfastly in the apostles’ doctrine and fellowship, and in breaking of bread, and in prayers.”
“Doctrine” speaks of the direction of our path; “fellowship” indicates it is wide enough for more than just ourself. The breaking of bread is a communal witness to our faith and is the focal point of our fellowship. The substance of that fellowship is walking together in the path that leads to life.
The Origin of the Organic World – Part One