The Good Shepherd

 Jesu Juva

St. John 10:11-18                                             

April 21, 2024

Easter 4B                                            

Dear saints of our Savior~

        The gospel of John is famous for the “I AM” statements of Jesus: I am the bread of life.  I am the light of the world.  I am the door—the way, the truth, and the life—the vine—the resurrection and the life.  Each of those sayings is packed with meaning.  But none of them quite carries the kind of comfort we heard today from John chapter 10:  I am the good shepherd.  Without a doubt, that’s the kindest, gentlest, most intimate picture of Jesus that we are given.

        It’s a little surprising that this image of shepherd and sheep should resonate so deeply with us.  For most of us live a “sheepless,” “shepherd-free” existence.  Are there any sheep to be found in Milwaukee County?  Perhaps, but I’m not sure where that might be.  Maybe the power of this image—and the deep meaning of this metaphor—is simply a testament to the power of God’s Word, and to the perfect preaching and teaching of Jesus, our Good Shepherd.

        Jesus clearly had Psalm 23 in mind when He said, “I am the good shepherd.”  He wants to be known in shepherding terms.  First century shepherds basically lived with the flock—dwelt with the sheep, slept with the sheep.  They were essentially one of the sheep.  The sheep recognize the shepherd’s voice.  He knows them each by name.  He leads them and they follow him—because they trust him.  The sheep will follow the shepherd even where their instincts tell them not to go—like through dark and dangerous valleys.

        What a wonderful picture this is of the disciples’ relationship to Jesus.  He is their good shepherd; they are the sheep of His pasture.  Even if you know nothing at all about sheep and shepherding, it’s still a warm and comforting image.  No wonder we have so many paintings of Jesus with sheep.  Where would Sunday school lessons and bulletin covers be without Jesus the Good Shepherd?

        But I’m sure you’ve sat through enough sermons on Good Shepherd Sunday to realize that being compared to sheep isn’t very flattering.  You probably know that sheep can be stubborn, stupid, and mean.  Some of you know that the softball team at Luther Memorial Chapel in Shorewood is known as the “Fighting Sheep.”  It’s the perfect name for a church team; but it certainly doesn’t strike fear into the hearts of their opponents.  Why not?  Because sheep are too helpless—too foolish—too prone to wander into trouble.

        That itch to wander away from our Good Shepherd is something we inherited from our first parents.  Adam and Eve wanted to be like God, and chart their own course, and so do we.  To them, the forbidden fruit looked desirable.  For us, the grass is always greener over there, in that other pasture.  This is why we get restless in church, spiritually bored.  It takes surprisingly little to entice us to exit the well-worn path that lead to eternal life.

        In Kansas, where I was raised, keeping livestock was a way of life.  In Kansas, herds of livestock were as common as coffee shops are in this neighborhood.  But I’d have to say that cattle were definitely the livestock of choice in my boyhood home.  Compared to sheep, cattle are relatively low maintenance.  Put them in the pasture and they’re good to go.  The bovine are fine . . .unless someone leaves a gate open.  But sheep are a different story.  They need to be supervised much more closely.  That’s why there are shepherds; and that’s why a shepherd has to get down and dirty with those wooly mammals.

        This is why stinky shepherds were considered to be on the lower rungs of the social ladder.  Not many young people aspired to be shepherds.  Their sheep wandered all over the place, without regard for property lines and boundaries.  And the shepherds were right there with them—trespassing all over the place.  They weren’t exactly the sort that you would invite to your next dinner party.  The shepherds were the first to worship Jesus in Bethlehem partly because they were the only ones outdoors that night, doing what they always did, keeping watch over their flocks.

        Jesus the Good Shepherd contrasts Himself with the “hired hand.”  The hired hand doesn’t really care about the sheep, and is quick to make an exit when danger draws near.  Jesus was referring to the religious leaders of His day who simply beat people over the head with religious rules and regulations.  They led people to believe that you could get in good with God by improving your spiritual performance—and then bragging about it. 

        But sheep aren’t very good performers.  I’ve seen bears ride unicycles and tigers jump through rings of fire and dogs catch Frisbees in the air.  Even my Labradoodles can “sit” and “shake” and “stay.”  But I’ve never seen a sheep perform even the simplest trick.  You can coerce the sheep and make demands on the sheep all you want—bribe them, threaten them, and harass them.  That’s what the religious leaders of Jesus’ day were doing.  But sheep are not performers.

        But Jesus, the Good Shepherd—coercion is not His cup of tea.  Making demands is not His modus operandi.  His yoke is easy and His burden is light.  In fact, Jesus lays down His life for the sheep.  On the cross, Jesus laid down His perfect life for His sinful sheep.  That means you are died for.  Your sins are atoned for.  Whoever would seek to pick apart your poor performance in this life is now answerable to Jesus, whose perfect life and sacrificial death now count for you.  Through faith in Jesus you now have life to the full—abundant life—life that lasts forever and a promise that you will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

        This self-sacrifice—this self-giving love—this grace and good ness and mercy is what sets Jesus apart in the world of religions.  It’s what makes Him the GOOD Shepherd over against all the hired hands with their demands and expectations.  Every religion has examples to follow.  Every religion has promised pathways to enlightenment.  But there’s only one Savior—one Good Shepherd who lays down His life for all—including those who were not following Him, for those who hated Him, and, yes, even for His enemies.  Jesus is not one Savior among many saviors—nor is He one of many pathways to paradise.  But we confess together with Peter in today’s first reading: There is salvation is no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved.  Jesus, our Good Shepherd, is one of a kind.

        That’s not an exclusive statement, for the invitation to salvation has gone out to the inclusive all.  No sheep left behind.  God wants all to be saved in Jesus.  All are died for.  The Lamb of God has died for the sins of the whole world—no exceptions, exclusions, or asterisks.  In fact, Jesus spoke about “other sheep” in today’s text.  He hinted that His flock was even bigger than His disciples could see or appreciate.  When Jesus spoke of “other sheep” who were not of Israel’s fold, He was referring to the Gentiles, the non-Israelites, and, ultimately, to you and me.  We are included in the one flock of the Good Shepherd.

        “I know my own,” Jesus says.  Again, that’s you He’s talking about.  The Good Shepherd knows His sheep very well.  He knows even the things we’d rather He didn’t know.  But this is grace:  the One who knows the shameful extent of your sin and the depth of your depravity—loves you—loves you despite it all—loves you to the extent that He laid down His life for you.  In fact, “by this we know love, that [Jesus Christ] laid down His life for us” (1 John 3:16).

        Your Good Shepherd knows you and loves you.  He’s not interested in having you jump through rings of fire. But He does invite you to listen to His voice as it is preached and proclaimed here.  He has cleansed you and claimed you in the still waters of Holy Baptism.  He does rejoice to prepare a table before you—the holy meal of His own body and blood.  And He will one day lead you right through that place where none of us can travel alone—right through the valley of the shadow of death.  You lack nothing.  You shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

        In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.