The Good Shepherd

May 3, 2009    Fourth Sunday of Easter

Psalm 23    John 10:11-18

This morning the scriptures are filled with shepherd images, and I think we find comfort in them just as they are, at face value.  But most of us are not personally familiar with sheep, their habits and their needs.  Most of us are familiar with sheep from having admired them romping in a meadow as we drive by or because we have heard them mentioned in the Bible, most particularly in the 23rd Psalm.  So what if we go into this image a bit deeper?  What if we immerse ourselves in the world that these scriptures conjure up?  Jesus used the image of a shepherd, guiding and protecting sheep because it was familiar to the people to whom he was speaking.  They understood what it was to take care of sheep, if not firsthand, then at least they ran into them in the normal course of their days.  Jesus’ culture was one in which the ins and outs of shepherding were common knowledge.

I was going to suggest that we might imagine what it would be like if raising sheep was so common that people talked about it over refreshments after church, and I realized that this is exactly what happened at Tinmouth last week.  There really are some folks here who are familiar with raising sheep, what it takes to keep them safe and well cared for.  So maybe the shepherd image is going to make a comeback here in Vermont, and the parables and images we read about in scripture will come to life for us all over again in this new age?  It could happen!  We may find ourselves more conversant with the terms of sheep care than we thought!

The reality of caring for sheep is a whole lot less glamorous than the scriptures might lead us to believe.  From the safe distance of reading about sheep and their shepherds, we get that soft, fuzzy feeling.  We are reminded of safety and security, of having someone to look out for you when any kind of danger threatens, and having that same someone make sure you have everything you need to thrive in the world - food, shelter, fresh water, shade on sunny days and company.  If I were to personify a bit, I would say that sheep like being together.  They like being in groups, and they like having a shepherd to follow.  It takes the pressure off of them for starters.  they don’t have to worry about where their next meal is coming from, and they don’t have to keep scanning the horizon for danger of any kind - rough weather or beasts.  They trust that they will be taken care of when the time comes, and guided to whatever safe place they need to go.

I remember the story of Jesus searching for the one lost sheep, rather than just forgetting about it for the sake of the 99 others.  There is a sense of comfort in this, which is most likely the intention of his having told the story to begin with.  We are not ever to be left out in the wilderness without being watched over in some shape or form.  Even when we assume that we have really blown it this time, have stretched the threads of compassion and love way too thin, Jesus assures us that we are still counted among the flock.  In fact, this morning’s scripture stretches that thread of compassion even further.  In this teaching, Jesus claims that he has “other sheep that do not belong to this fold.”  He goes on to say “I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice.”  This pushes our buttons and it can make us feel uncomfortable.  We like to imagine that we are the special ones who belong, really belong to the flock that Jesus cares for.  We like to see ourselves as having found our way to something special, a special relationship with Jesus that no one outside of our circle is allowed to share.  But this just is not the case.  What is true about Jesus is that he keeps, even today, widening the circle of his love.  He keeps opening the door and inviting people to keep on coming in.  He insists on broadening the view to include people who are so different from us that it feels impossible for us to be in the same room with them, let alone in the same arms of love as them.  The bumper-sticker theology that keeps driving this home for me would go something like this: “You are special, a beloved child of God...just like everyone else.”  Ouch!  How can I be special and beloved if everyone else is too?  Doesn’t special mean, well, more special than anyone else?

But Jesus keeps widening the circle.  It is like the circle we attempt to make each week at Church of the Wildwood at the close of worship.  We hold hands with everyone in the church and create a circle as best we can.  You can’t imagine how difficult this is to do!  And especially how hard it is to do so that everyone can see and be seen by everyone else in the often sadly-misshapen circle.  I think a part of why we keep trying to do it, week after week, is because we are trying in some small way to represent the circle of God’s love and the ways in which this love is inclusive.  That circle would be a whole lot easier to create if we each took a certain place in it each week, the same place from week to week.  Maybe we could even put masking tape on the floor so that we knew where to stand so as to make a perfect circle representing God’s perfect love?  But God’s perfect love is always shifting and changing, always opening up to include one more and then another.  And even though God’s love provides us with a strong and secure foundation, God’s love is not stagnant.  It does not stand still waiting for us to catch up with it.

Isn’t this what made Jesus so revolutionary and so despised by the religious authorities?  They prided themselves on having everything figured out, regulated and measured, and then Jesus came along and upset the apple cart.  He threw caution to the wind and invited the riff-raff into the circle even though they had no idea how to be a part of the circle.  I wonder who Jesus would invite into the circle if he were here today?  Who are the people that we barely see?  Who are the folks who are on the outskirts of our churches and of our lives?  Who are the people who need to hear some kind and compassionate words?

Over the weekend Gary and I watched “Slumdog Millionaire.” What really stayed with me from the film was the thought that there were children who were seen as being disposable in that culture.  They were children with no parents and no one to watch over them, except for an older sibling if they were lucky enough to have that.  Amoral adults would prey on these children, whisking them off the streets to assumed safety, only to injure them so that they would make more money begging on the streets.  Later in life, the children of the slums would take on menial tasks and become pretty much invisible in their society.  What was obvious in India, at least according to this movie, is perhaps less obvious here in our society, but it is no less true.  We may just have to look a little closer to find the child who has no supportive foundation under him or the adult who is convinced that she does not matter to anyone.  How do we, as part of the flock, as Jesus followers and as people who purport to show God’s love in the world in which we live, how do we bring all this to life?  How do we put our faith into practice in ways that really make a difference?

Opening our circle is only one way.  We also need to step out of the circle of safety and security ourselves.  We need to move beyond the walls of our homes and churches in order to see what is needed out in the world around us.  We need to start, at least, to listen and then to respond.  

Yesterday Gary and I attended an “Awakening the Dreamer” symposium at which someone said that when he thinks about something, he sits down, but when he feels something in his heart, he gets right into the thick of it, into action.  Maybe we need to listen more closely to what our hearts are asking of us?

Shepherd of us all, you call us into the fold of your love.  We feel the warmth and security.  We appreciate the good gifts we receive at your hand.  We ask that you would help us open our hearts to the people you draw to you whom we don’t know.  Help us accept those who are different from ourselves and who have different approaches to faith and life.  May we open our circles - our churches, our communities and our hearts so that they reflect your love for all of your sheep, every single one.  Amen.