Gospel: John 10:11-18
Today is often referred to as “Good Shepherd Sunday,” a designation reflecting the imagery of shepherds in Psalm 23 and the passage from John’s Gospel.
Whenever I hear the title “Good Shepherd” I almost instinctively flash back to my childhood and the images of Jesus I remember seeing in various places, particularly one of Jesus as the smiling shepherd, joyfully carrying a young lamb on his shoulders. That image and others like it are comfortable, safe, and reassuring, and in their own way they have value. Unfortunately, the safety and reassurance rooted in such portrayals glosses over the very real danger that was the work of 1st century Middle Eastern shepherds.
For them it wasn’t simply a matter of watching their flocks graze in peaceful meadows, keeping count to make sure none wandered off. Theirs was a vocation in which they faced constant threats, to the safety of the flock and even to themselves. There were the threats posed by other animals seeking to snatch away the lambs: wolves and lions; cheetahs and jackals. Indeed, theirs was a vocation in which they faced the very real danger of losing their lives as they guarded the lives of the creatures in their care. Theirs was a job that if taken with the seriousness it demanded could very well result in the possibility of self-sacrifice if it meant saving others.
As a huge fan of the original Star Trek franchise I think of the words spoken by Mr. Spock in the second film, “The Wrath of Khan,” that I think relate to this: “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one.”[1] Certainly we see the needs and safety of the many and the one at the heart of Jesus as the Good Shepherd, the shepherd willing to offer up his own life to save the lives of each of us numbered in God’s flock.
Several years ago I learned some very interesting facts about sheep. I learned that they are for instance naturally calm and social creatures, with an instinct to gather with other sheep. Loud noises cause them great distress. They form bonds of friendship and even look out for one another. They are comfortable with routine and possess very good memories, even being able to by some estimates to remember the faces of about 50 individual people or animals for up to two years.[2]
Each of those sounds very familiar, don’t they: traits that we as human beings might see in ourselves and those around us. They’re certainly a good reminder that while God tasks us with caring for creation, we ourselves are not the entirety of creation … and feelings and emotions are not a market cornered exclusively by humans. Knowing now what I’ve learned about sheep, it has certainly given me a fresh perspective on my place as part of the flock for which Jesus laid down his life.
But for as much as we are sheep in God’s flock, I firmly believe we also are tasked with a call to be shepherds. So what about us and our role as shepherds, shepherds for those in our families and for our friends, for those we don’t know or haven’t met yet, and even for – in the words of The Book of Common Prayer – “this fragile earth, our island home”?[3] What are we prepared to do, not if someone calls for our help but rather when?
Early on in my ministry I had someone share with me their frustration and pain over witnessing the Church’s perceived focus on itself as an institution rather than seeing the Church focusing on its mission. I heard a grief rooted in their witness to a bureaucracy, one focused on self-interest rather than the common good. I heard a grief rooted in their witness to a body focused on guidelines rather than goodness. To put it in the context of today’s Gospel reading, I heard an expression of grief rooted in seeing a shepherd concerned more about saving themselves from the wolves and less about saving the flock.
I realized then that out of the darkness of their pain and grief there was a small flicker of light glowing … and growing. It’s the light of someone who knows what a shepherd is and what a shepherd should be … what a shepherd does and what a shepherd can do. Out of what they shared I heard a call to each one of us to pick up our crooks and live into our roles as shepherds for the flocks around us. The worst shepherds undoubtedly are those who operate in a realm of self-interest; it’s their flocks that perish. What does it say to the world around us … what does it say to sheep with long memories … when the shepherd is equally interested in their self-preservation?
There are many wolves and jackals in the world today coming from many directions … the predators of addiction and abuse, loneliness and isolation, hunger and deprivation, racism and sexism, violence and degradation, waste and destruction. No two shepherds are alike; each is unique. But for each the call is the same: to protect the flock. How they did it may have been slightly different, but the task was the same. We … you and I … are the Church, and I firmly believe that we are each called in our own ways and using our own gifts to be shepherds to the world around us. We may wield our crooks differently or sense different ways we are called to act, but our mission is the same: to protect the flocks with which we have been entrusted.
We are most definitely called to lay down our lives for others. That doesn’t mean actual martyrdom. What it does mean is bearing witness to the Good News of God in Jesus … laying our lives down to ease the journey for others … driving the wolves of the world away from the fence line and pasture in which our sheep exist.
It means living into the call each of us has to be a good shepherd … a call issued forth by the Good Shepherd.
Amen.
[1] Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan.
[2] Pulpit Fiction Podcast sermon notes for 4 Easter / April 25, 2021. https://www.pulpitfiction.com/notes/easter4b/#John10%3A11-18=.
[3] Eucharistic Prayer C. The Book of Common Prayer, p. 370.