Easter 4B
April 21, 2024
John 10:10b-18
INTRODUCTION
Every year, the 4th Sunday of the Easter season is Good Shepherd Sunday, when we lift up this beloved early image of Jesus – and, it turns out, an image used for God since long before Jesus walked the earth. The shepherd metaphor was frequently used for kings in the Ancient Near East. We also see the shepherd vocation connected to some of the most important people in scripture: Moses was a shepherd when he first heard God’s call through the burning bush; David was a shepherd before being anointed King of Israel, and of course who were the first to hear the good news of Jesus’ birth? The shepherds!
But the most famous scriptural reference to shepherds is from the beloved 23rd Psalm, which begins, “The Lord is my shepherd.” We’ll sing that today, as we do every year on this Sunday. Though we often hear this one at funerals, we’ll hear it today in the context of Easter, the season of resurrection and new life.
In our Gospel, Jesus will identify himself as “the good shepherd,” and describe what this means: that he would (and does!) lay down his life for the sheep (a sentiment we’ll also hear in our second reading today). If Jesus is the shepherd, then we are the de facto sheep of his flock, the ones for whom he lays down his life. This snippet is a part of a larger discourse in which Jesus interprets his healing of a man who was born blind, a man who is subsequently thrown out of his community – but Jesus goes to him, and we catch a glimpse of how seriously Jesus takes his promise that we are “the people of God’s pasture, and the sheep of God’s hand.”
As you listen, consider how that feels and what it means to be a part of Jesus’ flock – both for our own hearts, and as guidance for how to live as God’s faithful people. Let’s listen.
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| Jesus as the Good Shepherd, mosaic, 5th c. Galla Placidia Mausoleum, Ravenna, Italy. |
Alleluia, Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!
Grace to you and peace from our risen Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.
Last week after worship, our council held our annual retreat. This year’s retreat was the first of three sessions we will hold with Pastor Imani Olear, our synod’s Director for Evangelical Mission, as she helps us to interpret and use the results of the Congregational Vitality Assessment our congregation took earlier this year. As I mentioned in a sermon back in Lent, one of the areas she has lifted up as an area of growth for us, based on that assessment, is cultivating a sense of belonging, spaces where we can truly connect with one another, with God, and with our community. In that sermon in February, I pointed out that true belonging is difficult to come by, observing that many of us have precious few places or people with whom we feel we truly belong. And yet scripture seems pretty clear that belonging is a part of God’s kingdom and promise. And – in that sermon, I quoted today’s Gospel reading as one example of this.
In this passage, Jesus calls himself the “good shepherd” – something different from a hired hand who would abandon the sheep in their hour of need. No, for Jesus, the shepherd belongs to the sheep as much as the sheep belong to the shepherd, such that he would even lay down his life for them. Even those who do not belong to his fold, Jesus says he will go to them, and bring them in, and they will listen to his voice.
Though the word “belong” is only used once in today’s passage, I think it still has a lot to teach us about what it means to belong – to Christ, and to one another.
Let’s start with belonging to Christ. Jesus says, “The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” This concept is such an integral piece of the Christian faith, it can be easy just to take it for granted, right – “Yeah, yeah, Jesus died for us and rose again, I know.” But what does that actually mean for our lives, like, concretely, day to day?
Well in terms of cultivating a sense of belonging, that belonging starts with this assurance, that Christ would and does do this for us! Think about it: we spend our lives thinking and hoping that we can do or get something that will make us feel fulfilled, settled, and like we belong. And yet to do this, we often look toward things that cannot deliver on this promise. That new car, house, or outfit. The relationship with that person we hope will finally appreciate us. That politician who promises to make our lives better. That promotion that makes us feel validated and appreciated. Surely, we think, something in this world can deliver on making us feel seen, known, and loved, and then we can live an abundant life! And yet that car got a flat, the house needs repair, and the outfit got stained. The relationship got difficult because people are people. The politician didn’t deliver, and the promotion just meant more work without more satisfaction.
All of this can take its toll: nothing seems to give us what we crave, and we start to wonder if maybe we’re just not worth it. Self-doubt creeps in, and we think, “Well I guess I’m not trying hard enough, or I’m not smart enough, or I’m not rich enough or attractive or strong enough. I’m not good enough.” From there it is a just a short step further to, “I’m not worth it. I do not belong, because no one wants me here. I am not enough.”
But Jesus’ words here say the opposite. “The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” Not, “The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep who impress me with their wit, charm, or ability.” No, it is all the sheep. All the sheep are worthy of this gift. And in fact, Jesus will actively seek out those who may have strayed, who feel they don’t belong, so that they, too, will hear his voice, so they won’t miss this good news: there is no litmus test to belonging to the Good Shepherd. You are a sheep of God’s pasture, and God would literally do anything to be in relationship with you, to “abide” with you, even lay down his life. You are worth it. You are accepted. You belong here.
Once we are assured that we do belong to and with Jesus, that we are worthy of this gift, we are in a place where we can hear the next bit: I know my own, and my own know me. Whenever I ask people what makes them feel they belong, I hear some version of this: “when I feel like people know me and accept me for who I am, even if we are different.” Being known and accepted is essential to feeling a sense of belonging. So that makes it all the more stunning that Jesus, who has just already assured us that nothing we can do will make him want to kick us out of the fold, is offering this incredible truth – that he feels that way, even though he knows us deeply. Yeah, like, knows not only the carefully crafted self that we show to the world, but also all of our less than charitable thoughts, the grudges we hold, the times we yelled at our kids (or our parents!), the unhealthy habits and practices we engage in. Jesus “knows his own” – all of us – and still assures us we belong, still assures us that he would lay down his life for us, would and does do anything to be close to us.
That’s great news, but it’s not the end for us. Not only does the Good Shepherd know us. He says, “and they know me.” That has some important implications. First, there is a call there – that as people who are a part of the flock, we strive toward knowledge of God. Being a part of regular worship is a part of that, of course. So is a regular prayer practice, by which we talk to God and listen to God’s voice. So is trying to know God better through study of scripture. All of these help us to live into that statement, “and they know me.”
Another aspect of knowing the Good Shepherd, though, is knowing the flock, the very flock for which he lays down his life. We are, after all, the body of Christ, the human beings made in God’s image, the Spirit-gathered and Spirit-filled expression of God’s continuing presence here on earth. And so, we can come to know and love God by seeking to know and love one another, and to be known by one another.
What I’m trying to say is this: all this Good Shepherd talk about knowing and being known by God, and hearing God’s voice, and belonging to God is very nice and feels good. But where it becomes concrete for us and meaningful in our day-to-day life is when it becomes incarnational, that is, where we see it actually lived out among God’s people. Where we seek to know one another and be vulnerable enough to be known. Where we open our hearts to be seen and loved by another, and seek out ways to love another’s open heart. Where we make the effort to move beyond surface chit-chat, and find meaningful connections with one another – in joy, and in pain.
This might happen in Bible study – in fact, I know it does, because I have experienced it. It might happen in a Fellowship Friends outing, or at a church clean-up day, or during a service project, or serving on the council. It might happen by taking the effort to seek out someone at coffee hour whom you do not yet know much about, and asking them about their week, about their family, about what they do that is meaningful in their lives. Something like, “What’s bring you joy these days?” “What made you feel grateful this week?” “What are you learning about lately, or what skill are you trying to improve?” or, “What are you looking forward to in the coming week?” In fact, take a moment right now – I’m not going to make you talk (yet!), but I want you to look around you (side to side, front and back), and find someone you don’t know much about, and make a goal of asking them about their week (last week or the upcoming one) during coffee hour. You could try to pass the peace with them and introduce yourself (low stakes), and then follow up after worship. I have even made sure there will be treats today, so you have extra incentive to stay! Now I know, some of you just like to slip out quietly after worship (I see you, introverts). I get that: I’m not going to bar the doors or anything. But I will challenge even you to at least greet one more person than you would otherwise on your way out. Make one person feel like they belong here, like they belong to Christ, like you are glad they are here.
Whether or not you participate in my challenge, know this: you do belong here. You are the people of God’s pasture and the sheep of God’s hand, and there is nothing you could do to change that. Jesus already knows you inside and out, and still wants you here, among his own. You are loved, and you are enough.
Let us pray… Good Shepherd, we sometimes feel unworthy of love and belonging. Help us remember that with you, we always belong. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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