The question is ancient. Will only a few be saved?

A question both Jewish and Christian, it arises naturally from our theologies of election and from innumerable prophets’ warnings of God’s coming wrath. It’s a question which follows naturally upon calls to repentance. If not everyone repents, not everyone responds, then who will be saved? All or only a few? It’s a simple question, albeit frightening.

And, of course, the answer is frightening too. 4 Ezra, an ancient Jewish apocalyptic text, answers bluntly: “This age the Most High has made for many, but the age to come for few.” (8:1) The Gospels give little comfort as well. John the Baptist, for instance, warned of the “coming wrath.” (Lk 3:17) Jesus warned of the need to beware the sudden tragedy, sudden death, to be sure to repent beforehand, he said, or “you will all perish” (Lk 13:1-5). Pleasant half-readings of Scripture aside, the biblical warning is harrowing and sober. Judgment is nigh is the genuine message; the academic question is pointless. Repentance is what matters, nothing else. Because God is coming.

Hence the disciples’ reasonable question: Will only a few be saved? Yet note the difficult answer: “Strive to enter the narrow gate.” (Lk 13:24) Jesus doesn’t put us at ease here; he doesn’t tell us not to worry. Rather, he says in substance that we’d better get to know him before he shuts the door. This isn’t easy-going Jesus; this is you’d-better-think-real-hard Jesus. We want to know about salvation, the who and how many, but Jesus wants us genuinely to know salvation, that is, the Way, the Truth, and the Life. That’s why he doesn’t answer our question—Will only a few be saved?—the way we want him to but instead invites us to know him better. Because that’s how we really answer the question, by getting to know Jesus. We want the question answered one way, academically. Jesus, however, answers it the right way: by inviting us to know him and love him. Which, of course, is salvation.

So, what does this mean for us? It means that our religious status means less than whether we really know Jesus. That is, it means we can’t rest on our heritage, our religion, or even our habits, thinking that alone will save us. For instance, is being a card-carrying Catholic enough? Is it enough that you went to Catholic school? Is it enough that you go to Mass a lot, maybe even every day? The answer to these questions is clearly no. These things are not enough. “We ate and drank in your company and you taught in our streets,” they’ll say. But “I do not know where you are from,” Jesus will say. (Lk 13:27) That’s the dire warning, the lesson for each of us. Who and how many will be saved? Catholics or Protestants? Believers or non-believers? Who cares? It doesn’t matter. Instead, what matters is that each one of us should do our best to know Jesus personally and intimately. Because our lives depend on it. They really do. Because God is coming.

And so, ask yourself: How well do I know Jesus? Think about it, be honest, answer truthfully. If you don’t know him, you’d better work on that. Scripture and sacraments: they’re there for you. If, however, you do know him, well then, look around. Because others need to know him too. Because God and many souls are counting on you.