This door seems a lot like Lent, doesn't it? A door that's partially open, but locked. Lent is a time we can see deeply into the mystery of God, but we are locked away from the totality of it. We can look through the crack and see shadows, glimmers of what is on the other side. We can hear voices from the other side, if there are voices. We can even move the door and strain at the chain.
But when I look at this picture, I keep asking, "Is this door locked from the OUTSIDE, or the INSIDE? If the answer is "inside," it begs the question, "does that mean the key is here somewhere on my side of the door?" If the answer is "outside," the question becomes, "is there someone out there I can call to and ask for the key?"
Either answer addresses a human shortcoming. How many times do our fears, doubts, and disbelief keep us "locked in" and away from the fullness of Christ's kingdom? How many times are we simply too stubborn or prideful to ask, "Does anyone out there have the key?"
That door, between God and us, is always partially open. Yes, it is locked, but the lock is not that hefty. I imagine Jesus either has the key or is capable of telling me, "It's right here with you."