sermon preached
at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Bellingham, WA
by the
Rev. Josh Hosler, Associate Priest for Adult Formation
The
Fourth Sunday of Easter, Year A, May 7, 2017
This fourth Sunday
in Easter season is commonly known as Good Shepherd Sunday. We sang a
paraphrase of Psalm 23, which may have been written 1000 years before Jesus: “The
Lord is my shepherd; I shall not be in want.” It’s hard for Christians to
approach Psalm 23 and not think of Jesus, since he applied the role to himself.
Jesus is the Good Shepherd—as opposed to the bad shepherd who ignores the sheep
when the wolves come around. We recognize our shepherd’s voice and follow.
A shepherd (source: Wikimedia) |
How do we follow
our shepherd? We hear today from the Acts of the Apostles, the only narrative
chronicle we have of the earliest years of the Church. We hear that “those who
had been baptized devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship,
to the breaking of bread and the prayers.” We quote this phrase verbatim in our
baptismal covenant as central to Christian practice. In short, it means that we
get together as a church every week to
share the story of Jesus, to share a meal, and to pray. There are no solo
Christians; we’re all in this together.
The ancient example
shows us that those in Christian community took care of each other. They may have
had their own homes where they broke bread and prayed, but they also brought their
possessions and goods and shared them for the good of all. Now, it would be
anachronistic to call this socialism, especially since it occurred on such a
small scale and so long ago. But the intent was indeed that there were no
self-made people: as any had need, their needs were met by the Church. The Lord
was their shepherd, and they did not find themselves in want. After all, Jesus
had told his disciples, who had sacrificed everything they called their own,
that they would get everything back a hundredfold in this life, not in the next. They found everything they needed in
Christian community. “And day by day the Lord added to their number those who
were being saved.”
From this we can
understand that salvation means something very different from its popular
definition. Salvation in the Bible doesn’t refer to “heaven after you die.” It doesn’t
preclude it, either, but salvation definitely begins in this life, and it has
to do with the freedom we find in taking care of each other instead of hoarding
things for ourselves. It comes with a lessening of anxiety and a clarity of
purpose. Salvation is often revealed in “signs and wonders”—that is, when we
dedicate our lives to love, we can expect surprisingly joyful outcomes.
Salvation means having life, and life abundantly—the reason Jesus stated for
coming to be among us in the first place.
Follow the Good Shepherd
does mean making good moral decisions. But it also means relying on God’s mercy and
forgiveness for ourselves and others. Following the Good Shepherd means living
in love and then letting God surprise us, not relying on our own understandings
of the way things must turn out. The Good Shepherd calls us each by name, so by
no means do we lose our individuality in community. But we are also responsible
for far more than just ourselves and our immediate circle.
All of this follows
from the metaphor of Jesus being the Good Shepherd, yes. But did you notice?
Nowhere in today’s gospel reading
does Jesus say he is the Good Shepherd! He says it a little later,
actually, but it’s not the first metaphor he turns to. No, Jesus says today, “I
am the gate for the sheep.”
Metaphors are a
kind of poetic game, and games have rules. We choose the game we’re going to
play today, and then we follow it to see where it will lead. Jesus is the Good
Shepherd as well, and on other days he’s even the sacrificial lamb. But in this
passage, Jesus has chosen the metaphor of the gate, so let’s play by the rules
of this game Jesus has chosen for us.
If Jesus is the
gate, then the sheep enter and exit the sheepfold through Jesus. Jesus has just
said that those who enter by climbing the fence are thieves and bandits, so
let’s be sure to use the gate. But if Jesus is the gate, then who is the Good Shepherd
here? I want to suggest that some of us are shepherds, and some of us are
sheep.
What makes one
person a shepherd, and another a sheep? Let’s try this: shepherds are those in
a given situation who have more knowledge and power than others. Sheep are those who are
more vulnerable and less able to control their circumstances. Now, right away I want to
caution against any attempt to decide once and for all which role you fill. The
world is not cleanly bisected into leaders and followers, into powerful and
powerless. Some days you’re the shepherd, and some days you’re the sheep. Let’s
establish that as a given before we go on.
Are you being a
good shepherd? Are you showing others to the lush grass and the still waters?
Are you meeting the sheep wherever they are and inviting them to a place of
nourishment? This can be as simple a task as inviting a friend to church. It
can be even simpler than that: Wear a nametag today, even if you don’t like
nametags. Whenever you see a new face in our midst, introduce yourself. If the
person looks lost—in the building or in the liturgy—offer to help. Sit with
people you don’t know. Scoot to the middle of the pew so newcomers feel
understand that there is a place for them next to you.
I heard a story
recently about two parishioners—strangers to each other—striking up a
conversation. One commented, “I’ve been coming to church for a long time, but
I’ve never gone over to the Great Hall for coffee.” The other said, “Well,
would you like to come with me?” “Sure,” said the first person, “I’d like
that.” It really can be that simple. Good shepherds are always learning how
they can be not just welcomers, but inviters.
At the next level,
good shepherds are teachers of the Christian faith, either formally or
informally. Some are called to be instructors, but others are called simply to teach
by example. For instance, Christian parents are always their children’s main
Sunday school teachers. And all of us are unofficial godparents to the children
of St. Paul’s and sponsors to those of any age who aren’t as far along in their
Christian life.
The job doesn’t
stop at the doors of the church, either. Good shepherds are exemplars of the
Christian faith in the whole world, every day—at work, at play, in formal and
casual circumstances, with friends and with strangers. Ideally, people should
be able to identify Christians by how we love.
But there’s more to
the job than that. Are you defending the sheep from wolves? The wolves, I
think, are people who wield power that is self-interested or even vicious. Good
shepherds willingly place themselves in danger to protect the sheep. This can
be high-level danger such as police, soldiers, and missionaries undertake. Or
you can scale it to what stretches your level of comfort. Do you stand up to
bullies? Do you go out of your way to meet and befriend people who are stuck in
situations they can’t control? As a citizen, do work for solutions in society that
will protect those with less power throughout our nation and the entire world?
Remember that while
we are all called by name, the Good Shepherd leaves 99 sheep behind to find the
one that is lost and carries it back home on his shoulders. Sometimes we can
protect the sheep from wolves. But when we can’t, we can still love and honor
the sheep who suffer and die, simply by being present with those who walk
through the valley of the shadow of death.
How are we doing at
shepherding each other at St. Paul’s? Do we know what people within our community
need? Are we giving them space to ask for it? Are we giving them the dignity to
ask on their own terms? How far are you willing to stretch yourself for people
with whom the only thing you share in common is your faith in Jesus Christ? And
what boundaries do you need to clarify to ensure that you can do this work
without losing yourself in the process?
So this is the
pattern for Christians who aspire to be Good Shepherds: Use the power you have
to share power with others. Protect and serve those who are vulnerable, whether
it means sharing a hymnal, standing in solidarity, or simply being with them.
When we do these things, we are not the thieves and bandits who try to enter
the sheepfold for their own selfish purposes. The pattern of Christian
community is to come through the gate ready to give, not just to receive.
Now, you may be
saying, “I have nothing in me to give. I just need to receive for a while.” You
know what? Maybe this is your time to be a sheep. That doesn’t mean you’re
stupid or “merely a follower” or incapable of independent thought. It just
means that you’re in a vulnerable place right now, as all of us are from time
to time. It’s OK: you are welcome here just as you are.
But I will say this
to those who feel like sheep today: keep listening for the voice of the Good
Shepherd who calls you to deepen and to grow. Your time to go from sheep to
shepherd will probably come more quickly than you think. You may already be acting
as the Good Shepherd in ways you don’t fully understand.
In your times of
being a sheep, who have been the shepherds in your life? Maybe you can identify
some of your shepherds in this very room. This is my challenge: Make time today
to thank your shepherds. Hold up a mirror to reflect their gifts back to them.
It doesn’t matter how small the gift; be sure to thank them. Now, if nobody
thanks you today, don’t feel like you’re only a sheep and never a shepherd. Instead,
take it as an opportunity to do some shepherding. Every day provides new ways to
share God’s love with others.
Jesus said, “I came
that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” To enter through Jesus’ gate
is to enter into salvation—to the safety of the sheepfold, but then to the
challenge of shepherding.