4 Easter

Good Shepherd Sunday

May 3, 2020

John 10.11-18

+If any of you have every worked with me for any period, especially if you have served as Senior Warden, Junior Warden, this following statement will not come as much of a surprise to you.

But…

when I was a child, I was, to say the least, a very independently minded child.

Even when I was very young, I liked to do things my way.

I didn’t like to be told what to do.

I hated having to eat what anyone told me to eat, to go where I was told to go, and I wasn’t good at taking orders. 

I wasn’t spoiled (though people thought I was).

I didn’t whine. I didn’t complain. I wasn’t mean or coercive in my independence.

I simply…didn’t do it if I was being told to do it.

When I joined the Cub Scouts—out of curiosity and the appeal of wearing a uniform than anything else—I didn’t last long.

The first order I was given, I refused to do.

When I was told that I had to dress a certain way in a talent show, I refused and when I was told that I HAD to do it, I responded by informing my parents that I was dropping out of the Cub Scouts (I was maybe 8 at this time).

That independent streak has been a difficult one in my life, now especially in my life as a priest.

The reason I say it is difficult is because sometimes, when one is independent, when one is out on the edges, it can be a dangerous place.

We human beings are a social animal, after all.

We like to “fit in.”

We like to be a part of crowd.

And too much independence can be scary because it means we have to rely on our own devices all the time.

Which makes all the talk in the scriptures about sheep and flocks difficult for someone like me.

Which also brings us to our Gospel reading for today:

In today’s Gospel, we find Jesus saying something that is a bit unusual.

In our reading for today, you’ll notice, he does say HE is the Good Shepherd.

What does he say he is?

He says he is the gate through which the Good Shepherd enters.

It’s an unusual image.

But…it is beautiful.

And with it, we get a glimpse into the Divine view of God’s relationship with us.

This image of Jesus as the gate through which the sheep and the Good Shepherd enters is very good.

In this case, he really is both the gate and the Shepherd.

F0r the sheep, there is really no difference.

The gate and the shepherd are synonymous to the sheep.

Which makes the image of Jesus as the Good Shepherd is a vital one.

It is a popular image because it is an image of God we strive for.

We want a God who will hold us in arms of love and protect from danger.

And I’m happy that is the image most of us have of God.

“I am the Gate for the sheep,” Jesus says. And by saying it, he says, “I am also the Shepherd who enters the gate.”

The story we just heard in the Gospel reading, like most of Jesus’ stories, has of course a deeper meaning.

When Jesus talks about the good shepherd who enters by way of the gate and the thieves who enter to steal, the meaning is clear.

Livestock in Jesus’ day—much like in our own—were valuable.

When the thief and the bandit, the flock needed a wise, caring and strong shepherd to defend them.

The Good Shepherd was the one who, when those nefarious beings began started lurking too close for comfort in the dark, never left even one of the flock to be taken.

The Good Shepherd tried to save each and every single one of them.

He even looked after that one independent sheep who strayed away from the rest of the herd and lived out on the edges.

Even the 8-year-old-Jamie-the-Cub-Scout sheep.

The good shepherd cared for the flock.

He loved them.

He even went one step further.

When the predators came near, the Shepherd put himself between the predator and the sheep, thus endangering himself.

He was willing to lay down his life to protect even the smallest of the sheep.

And how do we know this Good Shepherd?

How do we know who to trust?

The Good Shepherd does not climb over the fence—he does not sneak in.

The Good Shepherd enters boldly into our lives, through the gate.

It is a beautiful image.

Our God is a God who enters our lives boldly as times.

Our God is a God who will not let one of us be lost—no matter how weak or slow we might be.  

Our God is willing to step between us and those dark forces that come into our lives.

Our God even looks out for those of us who are independent and who walk the edges of this life.

And even more than that, our God is willing to die for us.

Over the years, I have encountered many people—whether parishioners or students or people spiritually journeying toward God—who have not always had such comforting images of God in their lives.

Some people have images of a God who is stern and mean and judgmental.

Their vision of God is of a despot who is off in some far-off heaven, watching every little thing we do, waiting for us to trip up or fail in some way so we can be punished.

In many ways, some of us who have experienced God in this way, find ourselves rebelling against that image of God.

And we most definitely should!

I am going to tell you in no uncertain terms—rebel!!

Rebel against any image of God that presents God as anything less than God really is!

Rebel against any image of God that says God is cruel or mean or close-minded or racist or sexists or homophobic.

Rebel against any image of God that makes God anything less than fully loving, fully accepting, fully sheepherding. 

If God is anything other than loving, accepting or caring, that is not the God we believe in as Christians.

That is not the God we want coming to us. 

That is not the God who even allows us to be independent and even rebellious, while still loving us and protecting us.

So, I am thankful for a Sunday like today—this Good Shepherd Sunday—in which we can celebrate and reestablish the relationship we have with a loving and compassionate God—a God who comes to us as a kind and caring Shepherd of us.

As Jesus the Good Shpeherd says today in our Gospel reading, “I came so that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”

Our God knows us.

Each and every one of us.

Even those independent ones of us who are out there on the edges of life.

And our God wants us to live, and live abundantly.

That’s what a good shepherd wants.

That’s what a good mother wants.

Our God even knows that we are out there and is watching out for us too.

And we know God. In Jesus, we most certainly know God.

When we look into the face of our Good Shepherd, we see the Face of our Jesus—the Face of someone who loves and cares for us and knows us like a mother.

But I think Jesus is calling all of us to something more than just meets the eye in this morning’s Gospel.

Jesus is not simply saying that we are sheep to be shepherded.

I think Jesus is also calling us to be good shepherds in our own lives as well.

And this is not only a message for those of us who are ordained to be shepherds.

We are all called to be shepherds.

Certainly we are shepherds to someone.

Whether we are mother, or father or teacher or older sibling, we all have plenty of opportunities to be shepherds of those entrusted to us.

Jesus sets quite an example for us.

The Good Shepherd not  only protects the flock.

The Good Shepherd is even willing to lay down his life for the flock.

Few of us are willing to go that far, but when worse comes to worse, we might surprise ourselves.

We might actually be willing to protect someone with our very lives.

So, throughout this coming week and next Sunday—on Mother’s Day—let us remember all that God  has done for us.

Let us remember how God, like a mother, had guided us, protected us and continues to loves us.

Let us listen to the voice of God—a voice we know and heed in our lives/

Let us remember how God knows us—knows the real us—the one no one else knows.

And remember how—in our lives each of us is called to be a good shepherd to those entrusted to us as well.

Let us fear not when the thieves and bandits come sneaking around in our lives or in our world.

Let us not be afraid when the darkness closes in on us.

All we need to do is look toward the Gate.

We are taken care of by the One who knows us and the One we also know.

We, like the lamb in popular art, are cradled in the arms of our Good Shepherd.

We are being held at this moment, and, in that safe place, no danger can ever come too close again.

And in that safe place, we do have life—a glorious, hope-filled life—and we have it abundantly!