April 29, 2012
The Good Shepherd, the Good Mother, the Good Baker, the Good Son – the Good Man
- 1 John 3:16-24
- Ruth Moore
If there was ever a Sunday that I needed to hear the encouraging words of our scriptures for today, this would be the day. Teri and I have done four funerals this week. In total, there have been 7 deaths in the past ten days within our church family. God’s circle of life has also continued with the birth of a new baby on Thursday – Wade Ricchiuto – born to members Anne and Tony Ricchiuto. And funerals can and should be celebrations of life. But the scripture that I read at almost every funeral I participate in is Psalm 23.
When Doug (or the Chamber Ensemble) sang the Psalm today, I imagine many of you could sing right along with them. The 23rd Psalm is one of the best known and well loved scriptures in the bible. When we hear it, it brings us comfort. It is profoundly personal and intimate. The words sit up with us in the challenges of sleepless nights and uncertain days. They tell us of God’s care for us in this life and into the next. The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
But the 23rd Psalm is not just for funerals. It is also a psalm for the living. We all need to have a good shepherd in our lives, to know and to trust. We all need to know someone is watching over us and always caring for us. This is a psalm for times when you and I are feeling lost, helpless or alone. Perhaps you are dealing with illness or pain. Maybe you have lost a loved one to death or a broken relationship. You may be experiencing dark nights of doubt, anxiety or fear. At some point all of us experience these feelings. But the psalmist declares that no matter what the trouble or danger is our shepherding God remains at our side. He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters.
The newer translations of the bible, like the New Revised Standard bibles found in our pews, have a different translation of this poem – it is different than the one you probably memorized years ago. It does not even use the words “in the valley of the shadow of death.” The NRSV version uses the words, “even though I walk through the darkest valley,” which is a translation that is more closely aligned with the original Hebrew. I don’t think those words diminish this familiar psalm, in fact it actually broadens the meaning for me. Yes we believe that even in the journey to death God goes with us, but we can also believe that in the depths of the valleys in this life we are never alone and never deserted. He restores my soul
The vision of a helping shepherd continues from the Old Testament into the New. We hear in the New Testament that Jesus Christ is “the great shepherd of the sheep,” (Heb 13:20) that he is the caring shepherd who leaves the ninety nine and sets out after the one who is lost, (Mt 18: 12-14) and that he is the “good shepherd,” who knows his sheep and will even lay down his life for his flock. (John 10:11) There is something so amazing in the fact that the one exalted to rule the universe as king is also our shepherd. He is the one who encounters us in our private, dark, desert valleys and offers us cool water and a banquet of food – who leads us and watches over us in every circumstance. He leads me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
The Christian Church has traditionally observed this Sunday, the fourth Sunday of Easter, as Good Shepherd Sunday – hence the 23rd Psalm and the passage from the Gospel of John. The story of the good shepherd is the perfect complement to Psalm 23, in which God provides the sheep with all that is needed. The Easter message is that Christ is risen and that Jesus returns to us and will never let us go. Our assurance is based not on what we do or don’t do, but on what Jesus does in his role as the Good Shepherd. The good shepherd not only walks with us through the dark valleys, the good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil for you are with me.
What makes Jesus good, according to the gospel of John, is his willingness to get involved, to risk his life for the life of his flock – to risk his life for us. We are his flock. Not somebody else’s flock, for which he gets paid $7.00 an hour to look after, but his own flock – the one he has bought and bred, doctored and protected. He is invested in his flock, his people, in more ways than one.
The sheep are the shepherd’s livelihood, for one thing, but they are also his extended family. They know his voice, his touch, his walk. If they are grazing with a thousand other sheep and he calls them, they will separate themselves from the crowd and follow him home. His voice is the sound of safety for them – the sound of still waters and green pastures. He knows them too, by name and by disposition. There is Houdini who is always escaping through some hole in the fence. There is Pegleg, who limps from the time she stepped in the hole. There is Bossy who likes nothing better than butting heads. There is Pat and Marty and Becky and Anne who are grieving. There is Doris and Bill and Mary and Jim who are dealing with chronic illness. There is the one who is having an affair. There is the one who just can’t stop drinking. There is the one who is frustrated because he can’t find permanent work. There are the many who are overwhelmed with work and family commitments. The good shepherd knows his own and his own know him. He protects them, he listens to them, he walks with them – he lays down his life for them. Your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
Ownership is not just a matter of legal title, however. You have heard people talk about “owning their feelings” or “owning up to” a problem. When I hear expressions like that and when I put them together with the story of the good shepherd who owns the sheep, I envision ownership as a certain kind of relationship – in this case a relationship that is created between people and other people. So ownership then is not just about possessing something, but it’s about being bound to something beyond ourselves. It’s about identifying with something so strongly that is becomes a part of us. If it is threatened, we defend it as if we were defending ourselves.
If the shepherd had been a hired hand, we wouldn’t even know his name. A hired hand would take one look at the wolf, or the valley or the enemies, or the disease or the grief and vanish. Because a hired hand rarely cares for the sheep. He doesn’t own them or involve himself so deeply in their lives that he risks his own to protect theirs. He minds his own business. He takes care of himself.
The good shepherd on the other hand, lays down his life for the sheep. He is with them in the darkest valley or the shadow of death. You prepare a table a table for me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
Psalm 23 and John 10 speak of intimacy and security. The shepherd is sufficient for the care of the flock – the shepherd and the sheep know each other. In today’s world of virtual communities, friends and colleagues on the internet, it’s hard to get to really know people and to be known. Forming authentic community is hard work – so instead we dole out little pieces of ourselves on Facebook, we avoid being vulnerable with each other, we judge each other, we hold grudges and we set impossibly high standards for ourselves and each other. We have a difficult time trusting each other and trusting God. Well maybe you don’t, but I have to admit I do. So how do we trust each other? How do we trust God? How can we form community that is real and life giving? Can the good shepherd help us to do that?
Jesus assures us that our fears are real, but that there is an alternative. Today’s texts speak of both danger and protection. Our emptiness and anxiety can be relieved because we have one who knows us and cares for us. We have someone who is willing to protect and even die for us. We have a constant companion on this journey we call life – we are never alone. And we have a shepherd, a caretaker, who is calling us to follow him so that we can be a household, a family, a flock that loves and supports each other, and that calls others to come and join us. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
I would like to close with a retelling of the passage in John 10:11-18. And as I read it I hope you can hear that the Good Shepherd is there for you. In a society that often values individualism, independence, and secularism we hunger for connection. In our moments of loneliness, isolation, alienation, grief or hopelessness, the Good Shepherd responds to our deepest yearnings for community by offering us an alternative. We are never alone – the Lord goes with us on the sometimes dark valleys and paths of our lives. We don’t have to be frightened – we have a shepherd to protect us and a flock to lean on for support.
A retelling of John 10: 11-18:
I am the good shepherd, the good mother, the good baker, the good son, the good man.
I stand always between you and the chaos.
Some dress like me and draw the same pay. Some know the drill and put out speeches for you to hear. They are always there. They are not me.
But when the heat rises and when dark comes they will crumble.
But when the heart rises and before the heat comes you will know already the distance between the fake and the true.
Up close and truly personal substance is everything, it has no substitute. I know that. You know it too. And others too.
I am a true one. One who stands in the gale and holds fast in the apocalypse. You will know. And others too.
Horizons are my boundaries and universes my end. There is not much that does not fit in with me, not too many who aren’t already joined in the great sweep of things.
And all this because I choose to. It is always me choosing: you, them, us, all.
God choosing in me, me choosing in God, God in me choosing.
In our choosing and always choosing is the great good power.
I am the good shepherd, the good mother, the good baker, the good son, the good man.
(Seasons of the Spirit – Easter 2012)
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. Amen.
Resources:
Bread of Angels, Barbara Brown Taylor, “The Shepherd’s Flute.”
Feasting on the Word, Fourth Sunday of Easter.
Seasons of the Spirit, Adult Lent, Easter 2012.