Jesu Juva
John 10:1-10
April 30, 2023
Easter 4A
Dear saints of our Savior~
It’s Good Shepherd Sunday and I’m in my usual quandary: Sheep and shepherds are in short supply on the north shore. I can’t remember the last time I saw a real live sheep. Even if my life depended on it, I wouldn’t know where to go to find the nearest sheep. Around here, the mutton has gone missing. The lambs are on the lamb. The sheep have all skedaddled. Where’s a nice petting zoo when you need one?
And yet every time Good Shepherd Sunday rolls around, the images of sheep and shepherd never fail to comfort. Even for sheep-deprived, shepherd-less citizens like us, the image of the Good Shepherd is full of meaning and hope. It’s too bad that we seem to reserve most of the Scripture passages about sheep and shepherds for use at funerals. Were I to visit you in the hospital, and pull out Psalm 23, you might worry that maybe I was giving you Lutheran last rites. And that’s unfortunate because the Good Shepherd—and all of His comfort—is for the living, for those whose life is hidden in Christ by faith, for those who live even though they walk through the valley of the shadow of death.
Shepherds and sheep may be a comforting image; but it’s certainly not a flattering image—at least not for us. For the whole image hinges on the fact that you are a sheep. Now, from a distance, sheep seem serene and peaceful. But up close it’s not such a pretty picture. Sheep can be mean. They are prone to wandering, not terribly bright, and very dependent and needy. We, too, can be mean—kicking and biting and head-butting each other in a constant effort to be the top sheep—the boss of the flock. We also love to wander—to follow every false path and drink deeply from every polluted and poisoned puddle. We’re not very bright, at least when it comes to the things of God. In fact, by nature we’re clueless. And without the Holy Spirit we wouldn’t have a clue no matter how many diplomas are hanging on our wall.
Being a sheep all boils down to dependency. We cannot live alone. We cannot save ourselves. We need a Shepherd who will feed us, care for us, defend us, and deliver us. And we have all that and more in Jesus, the Good Shepherd.
The Good Shepherd stands in opposition to the thief and the robber. The Good Shepherd enters by way of the door; but thieves and robbers climb in some other way. That “other way” is always something other than Jesus’ death and resurrection. You can always distinguish a thief and a robber by the message he brings. Listen carefully. Anyone who does not preach Jesus Christ to be your shepherd, who bore your sins on the cross, who laid down His life for your salvation, by whose wounds you are healed—anyone who does not preach that good news is not speaking on behalf of the Good Shepherd and should not be trusted.
It doesn’t matter whether this person calls himself (or herself) a pastor, whether he gives good advice or even seems like such a deeply spiritual person. If what he says—if what he preaches—is not connected to the narrow door of Jesus’ death and resurrection, he is a thief and a robber and a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
And here’s the other distinguishing characteristic of our Good Shepherd: He leads—and He leads with His voice. The sheep hear His voice, and He calls His own sheep by name and leads them out. . . He goes before them, and the sheep follow Him, for they know His voice. Our Good Shepherd leads us and feeds us primarily with words. He speaks and the sheep follow His voice. The Good Shepherd always leads. Christ goes before; and we are called to follow.
Watch out for shepherds who don’t lead—shepherds who bring up the rear—shepherds who chase and herd and hassle the sheep into submission. Now, that can be a legitimate way of herding real sheep. You get a few sheep dogs to drive and prod and nip at the sheep until they obey and go in the right direction. Fair enough. But the Good Shepherd is never described in that way. Jesus isn’t about badgering and burdening and harassing His sheep. He doesn’t crack the whip. He doesn’t drive or herd His Church from behind. He leads. He draws us to Himself. And He does so with His voice—His Word.
There’s nothing sadder than a sheep that’s being burdened and hounded. In college I had a few encounters with a Christian student oranization. And the members of this group seemed to be sheep of the Good Shepherd. They carried around Bibles. They were always inviting people to come to their Bible studies. They were always witnessing to others. Only they didn’t do this freely. It was required of them. It was demanded that they go out and invite and confront others in the hope of making their organization bigger. Their standing with the Good Shepherd became dependent on their performance—on how many other people they themselves could bring to Christ. For them, Christianity wasn’t so much about freely following the Good Shepherd’s voice as it was about measuring up—about performance—and being a “better” Christian than all the rest—about how well you could keep the rules.
Sheep aren’t designed to be badgered and bullied like that. This is why our Good Shepherd leads us, and we follow the sound of His voice. He’s rescued you from sin and death. He takes the sins that burden you, and He bears them all away. Your future doesn’t depend on your works, but on His works. He’s freed you to be the people of His pasture. He has marked you as one of His flock in the waters of Holy Baptism. Don’t forget whose you are because that tells you who you are: You are a sheep in the flock of the Good Shepherd, who laid down His life to save you in His death on the cross.
This world is filled with thieves and robbers who want to insert themselves between you and your Good Shepherd. They will try to distract you and separate you from Jesus. Anything that puts distance between you and this altar—anything that widens the gap between your ears and the preaching and proclamation of God’s Word—keep away from such things. For these are the things that can lead to your doom.
“Truly, truly,” Jesus says, “I am the door of the sheep.” Now, admittedly, “I am the door” doesn’t sound as comforting as does, “I am the Good
Shepherd.” But it should; for the two images belong together. One of the things a shepherd does for his flock is literally to lie down in the doorway of the sheep pen at night. (You can see it on the bulletin cover.) When Jesus is the door, the sheep are safe—YOU are safe. You are not alone no matter the dangers you face. Jesus is with you. He is the door. Nothing and no one can separate you from His love and care. Your Good Shepherd even knows how to navigate the valley of the shadow of death. You need fear no evil.
Jesus has laid down His life for your life. And He gives abundant life—life that lasts forever. So let’s keep listening to His voice. Let’s feast on the food and drink He so graciously gives. And let’s dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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