Fourth Sunday of Easter
Rev. Amy Welin:
There is an ancient story of a noble shepherd, who lived a long time ago in Israel. Sometimes we call him the good shepherd, but the original word really means noble. There were many other shepherds, yet this shepherd was especially strong and loving and very close to Adonai (which is the Hebrew name for God).
Every night, as the sun disappeared below the horizon and the stars appeared, the shepherd would bring the flock into the enclosure, to protect them as they slept. And the shepherd would lie down across the opening, sleeping in the dirt, making himself the gate that protected the sheep.
The noble shepherd knew his sheep, and they recognized his voice. When he called, they would come to him. He greeted them in the morning by speaking their names. He called them away from the cliffs and the brambles by calling their names. He healed them when they were sick.
Every day, the shepherd drove the sheep out of the enclosure in which they had slept. We would like to think that he coaxed them, but the word in the gospel means that he cast them out. If they were reluctant to leave, he may have urged them onward with a poke from the end of the shepherd’s crook. He led them into the meadow with fresh green grass to eat. He brought them to the still waters where they could have a cool drink in the hot afternoon. If one of the sheep wandered off, he would go searching for it, and carry it home from the dangerous places.
Many of us keep an image in our minds of the shepherd who carries home the little lamb. Have you seen that picture? Jesus is the gentle shepherd, in a white robe, with a beautiful little white lamb in his arms. Frankly, he looks rather like a gentleman shepherd, one whose hands and clothes never get dirty. This is a comforting image, but I am not sure I would actually entrust this fellow with the care of my sheep. He looks like he could run joyfully across a flowery field, playing with happy lambs, but he would not be useful fighting off a hungry wolf or pulling a mother sheep out of unruly brambles.
The noble shepherd lived out in the fields and the valleys with the sheep. It was a rugged life. They did not live within the enclosure, and the shepherd was not supposed to keep them inside the walls. He led them into the place of abundant life, out in the wilds and open spaces called pastures.
Abundant life is not necessarily a completely safe or trouble-free life, you know. There were enemies and dangers. The valley shadowed by death in the psalm was a reality, not a metaphor. The shepherd did not stay in the sheepfold. He also went out into the wilds with the flock.
The noble shepherd was not like the hired man, because he had a relationship with the flock. Unlike other shepherds, the noble shepherd was willing to care for the maimed strays and lost and foolish sheep, bringing them into the one flock. He offered his life for the sake of the flock.
In the context of the community that first heard this gospel, probably around the turn of the first century, this must have been a comforting and a challenging story. The Jews who followed Jesus had been cast out of the Temple of their forebears, because they were considered heretics and blasphemers. The Jew who followed Jesus were not sure they wanted to welcome the newcomers who were gentile, because they were not part of the Chosen People. They all must have been terrified, because they had to let go of everything that they had known and understood about faith, and family, and perhaps even their own identity. They were in the valley of death, surrounded by very real danger and persecution. What do you think it meant to them to believe that Jesus was waiting for them outside the safety of their formerly safe enclosures? What do you think it meant to them that their salvation was bound up with other people who were from a different flock? This gospel is not an abstraction, it is part of a real story.
I hope that when we hear this gospel it is both a comfort and a challenge to us. We live in a difficult time, as churches lose members and lose the cultural support that we have taken for granted for generations. American Christians are in a metaphorical valley of death, though the danger is real. Unlike other shepherds, Jesus laid down his life for this flock, and invites us to die to our own self-interest in the service of others. Jesus calls us to something beyond words and ideas. We must serve with our actions and with our bodies. This is a very real invitation.
Jesus will not in fact lead us directly to a place of “safety”. Our faith does not work as an escape from the difficult realities of life. Jesus, the noble shepherd, offers whatever is necessary and invites us to offer whatever is necessary – so that together we may all walk the path from death to life.
How well do we tolerate this kind of leadership that demands commitment and sacrifice? Are we cranky when it is difficult and costly? Are we willing to take on the responsibility of this kind of spiritual life? Or do we prefer to avoid hard choices? Are we willing to set aside our own desires to offer ourselves for something greater than we are? Or are we looking for a spiritual buffet and not a spiritual life?
We are called to be noble disciples. We are called to BE the church and not just to go to church. It is the essence of what we believe and who we are. We are the noble leaders who in turn give of ourselves. It is not the sacrifice that is honorable in itself. The sacrifice is for the sake of something more important than we are. The noble shepherd lays down his life for the sheep – and when he then he takes it up again, he gives it away.
When he calls your name, are you willing to follow where he leads?