A fear that minor vampire cleric forgets that, the purpose and social life of a door ends not merely at opening at closing to let entities in and out, it is a door by doing so selectively. It is neither a wall or a hole in a wall, it is a door, and it functions by being picky in what it lets in (authorised personnel, tasty morsels, proper paperwork) and what it keeps out (the cold winter air, the noise of the municipal highway, unwated vampires).1 Therefore, it is being entirely true to its intended role and is faithfully carrying out its duty - the vampire is merely meekly trying to resist the all-powerful automaton from inscribing in the vampire his social position.
[1] Latour, Bruno (1992), "Where are the missing masses? The sociology of a few mundane artifacts", in Bijker, Wiebe E.; Law, John, Shaping technology/building society: studies in sociotechnical change, Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT Press, pp. 225–258
Joking aside, that sight of Durkon's mother weeping a tear for her son's sake brings me to tears as well. She must have been so proud.