May 3, 2020 (pandemic)
Psalm 23, John 10:1-10
INTRODUCTION
This fourth Sunday of Easter is always “Good Shepherd Sunday.” Christ as our shepherd is a comforting image, and a beloved one, and in fact one of the very oldest ones for Jesus – the earliest Christian art depicts him as a shepherd. All of our readings today will help us enter into that tried and true image.
First, Acts tells us a bit about that early flock, the first Christians, and what life looked like. In other words, how it played out in real life to “listen to the shepherd’s voice.” Psalm 23, “The Lord is my shepherd,” is an obvious connection – and while I won’t talk too much about it this morning, I did spend my Facebook Live post on Wednesday talking about it. 1 Peter will talk about Jesus being the shepherd that brings his wayward sheep (that’s us!) back to the right path.
For the Gospel, I want to give you some important context, because the part of the story we hear today isn’t actually that much about Jesus as the shepherd (instead, he calls himself the Gate, or Door). Furthermore, the broader context has nothing to do with sheep at all. Rather, this is Jesus’ explanation of a sign he performed, which we heard about back during Lent: the healing of the man born blind. Remember that one? Jesus heals a man who was born blind, and no one, not the Pharisees, or the friends, or the parents of the man, could make any sense of it. Ultimately, the Jewish authorities kick the man out of the synagogue. It’s a story of being in, and being out, and of what it means to be blind, versus what it means to see. And into all that, Jesus calls himself the Door (or the Gate, which goes better with the pastoral image he’s working with here). What can that mean, for Jesus to be the Door, in the context of that healing story?
As you listen, just notice how that shepherd image is used (and the door image, for that matter), and what it might mean for us today. Let’s listen.
[READ]
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Risen Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
Before Jesus calls himself the Good Shepherd, he calls himself the Door, or the Gate. At first glance, I don’t love this image. When I hear words like door or gate, I am tempted to think of them as something that closes us off, or keeps us in. I think about my children’s annoying propensity to slam doors, and their tears that they cannot open our old, finicky, solid wood doors again on their own. I think about being shut indoors, and talking to friends who drop off the groceries they have graciously delivered for me through our closed glass door. Door does not have a positive connotation for me right now!
But if Jesus calls himself a door, and talks about it in relation to the abundant life he seeks to bring, then there must be something more to this image – something about life. So, how about this: rather than something that shuts us or others away, a door can become an entry point into a new reality. Rather than a divider, a door is a means by which to pass through a barrier. Rather than something that traps us, a door is a way by which to escape something unwanted, and enter into a new possibility: from inside to outside, from cold to warm, from windy to still, from stuffy to fresh.
Suddenly, with Jesus as the Door, it might not be such a bad thing after all! He calls himself that thing by which one enters into something new. In fact, that something new, he says, is salvation itself! “I am the door,” he says. “Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture.” And then he goes on to explain what it means, exactly, to be saved: “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.”
And with that, Jesus lays out an essential goal of his mission: to bring to us abundant life. Jesus has been showing, since he turned that water into wine at the beginning of his ministry, that when he is involved, there is abundance – our cups overflow. With Jesus, there is life, and lots of it. There is the possibility of walking through a door, and entering something new, abundant, and life-giving.
We are living in a time when it is very easy to focus on what we lack. To think about abundant life right now, even as we deal with grief upon grief, may seem impossible! As we draw closer to the time when we might be able to open up some things again, I have found myself even more bogged down by grief, as I come to terms with just how much will not be coming back, right away or even ever.
But this passage, along with Psalm 23’s bold claim that, “I shall not want,” invites us to reflect instead on what abundance looks like, what abundant life looks like, for us right now. If Jesus came that we may have life and have it abundantly, that means even now. So what does it look like?
The Gospel of John makes clear again and again that abundant life looks like an abiding relationship with Jesus, and about welcoming more and more into that relationship with Jesus. This passage shows us a few ways that abiding relationship with Jesus may be expressed.
First, it means hearing Jesus’ voice, and following it. You remember, this discourse is a commentary on the healing of the blind man, who heard Jesus before he was able to see him. Now in today’s passage, Jesus says that the sheep hear his voice and follow it. This can be a real challenge, though, when there are so many other competing voices! There is this media outlet or that one, telling us whom or what we should fear or trust. There are our various emotions that filter and interpret everything we hear, and perhaps cause us to miss the essence of what is offered. There is our own self-talk, so often riddled with guilt or shame. All of these threaten to drown out the voice of our shepherd, and to lead us down wrong paths. This is why we must cling to our relationship with Jesus, through prayer, and scripture study, and conversation with other faithful people God puts in our path. This will help attune our ears to that life-giving voice of Jesus, to distinguish it from all the other voices.
I think another way we can hear Jesus’ voice (and I’ve said this so many times before!) is to practice gratitude. To take time every day to recognize not what we lack, but what we have. Gratitude helps us to recognize that abundant life. Though we may not be grateful for everything, we can be grateful in everything, and finding that little something to be grateful for can also direct our gaze to where Jesus is speaking to us, even in the midst of our struggles.
Second, abundant life and relationship with Christ may look like resting safely in Jesus. I really need that piece these days. In one Facebook group I am in, someone posted this week, “Anyone need a Whiney Wednesday? Lay down your burdens here.” The group is all working moms, and so many people wrote some version of, “I’m SO tired!” Yes, I am sure many if not all of us can relate. Grief is exhausting. Loneliness can be exhausting. Even compassion and care for one another can be exhausting. What a comfort, then, to know that an abiding relationship with Jesus means that he offers us the safety and rest that we need in order to live into the abundant life he promises. That door image – it is also one of protection. Right now, our doors are keeping many of us safe from the virus. In normal times, doors keep us safe from wild animals, and inclement weather, and unwanted intruders like the thieves and bandits Jesus mentions. And so, too, relationship with Jesus means safety.
Of course, this is not always in the sense that we won’t face hardship. Notice the 23rd Psalm does not say, “God will steer me around the valley of the shadow of death.” It says, “Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil, for you are with me.” Abundant life is sometimes the knowledge that God is beside us in those difficult moments, and there is at least spiritual safety in that.
Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, abundant life in Jesus means being known. “He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out,” Jesus says. The man born blind has been only that all his life: a man named for his disability. But now, Jesus says, he will be more than that. We all will be more than what we lack. We will be who we are. In the next chapter, Jesus will call Lazarus by name (“Lazarus, come out!”) and Lazarus will come back from the dead. After the resurrection, Jesus will call Mary Magdalene by name, and she will recognize the new life he has brought about.
And in our baptism, we are called by name, and brought into the fold, into the abiding relationship with Jesus that promises all these things. We are known. We are not just numbers or statistics. We are not just categories of people, like, “high-risk,” or “immunocompromised,” or, “essential worker.” No, the abundant life that Jesus offers us is that we are unique, we are named, and we are beloved.
And honestly, these days, this is everything: to know that Jesus cares enough about each of us to know our names, to stay with us and grant us safety, to call out to us even in the darkest valley, so that we might hear his voice and know which way is the way toward life. In this dark valley, my friends, I pray that we would all have an ear toward this life, and rest secure in the knowledge that it is what God wants for us.
Let us pray… Good Shepherd, you call us by name, you walk beside us in the darkness, you grant us rest and safety, and most of all, you dearly love us. Today, make us grateful for these gifts. Open our ears to hear your voice calling us toward your abundant life. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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