"For the sheep"-A Sermon for Easter 4, John 10:11-18
Toward the end of May, we will share a meal, once again, with our Muslim friends from the Institute of Interfaith Dialogue, a community of primarily Turkish Muslims, who we have been in relationship with for many years now…this will actually be our third dinner with them…and I hope you and yours will join us, as we seek to deepen our friendship with those beyond ourselves who, like us, value faith, peace, and relationship.
Now this group, IID, for short, plays a pretty important role in the story of my relationship with my wife, Ashley. We were invited over a decade ago, when just friends and colleagues, to join them on an interfaith exchange in Turkey. We traveled around the country meeting with our peers, other religious and civic leaders, to break bread together and learn about their life and traditions…to find points of connection…shared values…and ways to work together for the common good of all of God’s people. And as we shared the intense and transformative experience, Ashley and I, came to know one another in a whole new way…that, over time, lead to love.
Now, in addition to Ashley and I getting to know one another better and the great conversations we had with our Turkish peers, we also got to see some pretty incredible places that connect to our own story of faith. We went to Hagia Sophia, Holy Wisdom, one of the earliest churches in Christendom and the long-time seat of the Eastern Orthodox Church during the Byzantine Empire. We went to Ephesus, where Paul planted one of his early Christian communities and to whom he sent his letter that is contained in the New Testament, named Ephesians. There were others as well…but the one I want to mention, in particular, is that we went to Pergamum, which is one of the seven Christian communities named in the last book of the New Testament, Revelation, written by John of Patmos. The ruins of the ancient city lie on the top of a hill or plateau…from which you can see for a great distance in any direction. We made our way up the hill by bus, one of those large Greyhound types, that was carting us around the country, in the late afternoon. Once we arrived, we were more of less the only people their…we had the hill top and ruins to ourselves…and so we explored like children…scrambling up ancient walls to get the best possible view. It was really a magical sort of moment…a holy place…not a cloud in the sky…cool air…and a brilliant sunset. And then before dark, as dusk descended, we had to make our way back to the bus and down the hill to get to dinner and our evening’s lodging.
And, as we barreled down the hill in our huge bus, I noticed out the window further down the hill that sheep…a long procession of them…was just coming to the edge of the road and were clearly going to begin to cross our path…and they did…paying no noticeable attention to the huge bus heading in their direction. Again, it was dusk…it was getting hard to see and my “spidey sense” began to tingle…I hoped our driver was able to see them…but feared he wouldn’t. Then I noticed a man…not a sheep…a shepherd, with staff in hand, walking alongside his sheep…step onto the road. He made no sign…no shouts or waving arms…he just stood there…in the middle of the road…standing between the bus and his sheep. And, I may not be giving our bus driver enough credit, but it felt like he noticed the man and sharply stepped on the brakes at the last possible moment. We came to a fairly abrupt stop right in front of the shepherd…maybe ten yards or so in front of where he was standing. And he continued to just stand there…as the sheep meandered across the road behind him. It looked like he didn’t move a muscle until the very last sheep had passed behind him, safely to the other side of the road. Then following the very last sheep, only then, the shepherd walked off the road, a stalwart rear guard, if you will, and quickly disappeared into the increasing darkness. Only then did we continue our journey down the hill.
In our Gospel lesson from John this morning, Jesus says, “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” Now, I don’t know if the shepherd that stood in the middle of the road that day on that hillside of Pergamum, with a bus barreling down on him and his sheep, was a hired hand, or the owner of the flock of sheep, that he, indeed, protected with his own life…but he was, that day, a good shepherd…placing his own body directly between a life threatening danger and those he was charged to care for. He stood in the gap, the thin space, between life and death. And, as we continue to celebrate this season of Easter, this is, for me, not the, but a pretty perfect image of Jesus…the good shepherd. The one who stands between us and the power of death. For as we proclaim by faith, in Jesus’ death and resurrection, God has defeated sin, evil and death…for all time and all people.
Now, the truth is we continue to contend with all three…with the sin and brokenness in our own lives…with the evil hefted upon our and other’s shoulders in our sorely divided and economically driven world that treats people first as consumers and commodities…and with death itself our ancient foe, who begins his work the day we take our first breath and completes his work on the day we take our very last. For indeed, we live in the already…but not yet…between the first Easter and the day God will enter time and space again to remake all things in the perfect image of love. Indeed, we live in the gap…the thin space between life and death. And even so, the empty tomb…God’s strong proclamation that love is stronger even than death…awakens hope. Jesus’ resurrection makes certain that, despite this present darkness, death will not have the last word. As I said last week, the last words in the great story of the universe have already been written, on the walls of an empty tomb, and they are everlasting love and life. Though pain remains in that thin space between life and death, Jesus the good shepherd stands at the very edge…and he will not be moved…whatever may be barreling down the road toward him and us…clearing the path…so that in the fullness of time, whatever we may endure between now and then, we will pass unabated through death, which is more gate than grave, into the everlasting arms of love. For all time and all people, this…the empty tomb has spoken.
To quote St. Paul, who writes more eloquently than I can ever hope to speak, “What then are we to say about these things? If God is for us, who is against us? He who did not withhold his own Son, but gave him up for all of us, will he not with him also give us everything else? Who will bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn? It is Christ Jesus, who died, yes, who was raised, who is at the right hand of God, who indeed intercedes for us. Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? ... No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
Now…I would like to end here. For, I hope we feel fully alive…entirely encouraged…and completely hope filled. Full all the way up with sure and certain knowledge, that whatever we must contend with on this side of glory…we are guaranteed in Christ Jesus, through Easter, our place on the other side of glory. But I feel I must say something more…and that is that this great, good news of our own place secured in eternity is not just about life’s end…about easing our anxieties about what comes next when our own race has been run…not just encouragement when the thin space between life and death, in which we are currently situated, feels overwhelming…giving us strength to get out of bed and put one foot in front of the other…knowing that suffering and travail will not have the last word in our own lives and the lives of those we love. Of course, I do want…all of that. I want Jesus’ resurrection to temper our fear of death and encourage us as we travel through various valleys in which the shadow of death seeks to overshadow us. I do want, more than anything else, for Easter to provide us real encouragement and hope for the life we live now and for the life that follows.
But, I also hope Easter emboldens us to somehow live life differently even now…to live gratefully, joyfully and courageously the life we live now in the thin space between life and death. For if nothing can conquer us, then we should not fear living boldly now. Jesus is the Good Shepherd, but as his body alive and active in the world today, we, individually and collectively, are to be for the world today, like Jesus, the shepherd that stands, unmoved, at the edge of the thin space between life and death for all those who are entrusted to our care. We get to continue Jesus’ shepherding ministry. For we are Jesus’ own resurrection people, whose lives are everlasting. Thus, without the fear of death holding us back, we stand bravely in the name of life and love between all the harm that exists in our world and all of God’s people. Those who look, live and believe like us…and those who don’t…remembering that Jesus says that he has sheep that don’t belong to our fold. He loves them too. He died and lived again for them too. They too will know his voice when they hear it and follow him…just like us…into his everlasting arms of love. Thus, we stand for them too at the edge of the thin space between life and death.
If you have been imagining Jesus as the man who stood in the middle of the road that day on the hillside of Pergamum…standing unmoved…between the approaching danger and the flock of sheep he cares for…good…that is the image I was hoping you might have in your own mind’s eye. However, now I would like for you to picture yourself standing in that place…your body, your heart, your mind, your face…standing with staff in hand with some challenge or danger barreling down toward you. And then I would like for you to imagine who it is that passes behind you across the road and on to the protection of the sheep folk to which you are leading them. Who is it that you need to stand up for…need to connect with…need to defend…need to befriend? Who needs all of your love, care and support? Perhaps this is someone or ones you expect…or perhaps you are called to begin a relationship that leads to care and support of sheep that belong to folds other than your own. I just leave you the image and the questions it might invite you to enter into.
So, can this sort of shepherding work be risky…indeed? Does it require finding real courage from within…for sure? Might it move us to love well folk we may hold stereotypes about, even those that might be perceived as a threat…well…likely? Might it bring some hardship or suffering on ourselves…perhaps? But remember, the empty tomb has spoken…sin, evil and death have already been conquered and there is nothing left that can separate us from the love of God. The last words, not only for the universe’s story, but our own, as well, have already been written, and they are everlasting love and life. Your name is already written in the “book of life”, so take heart, be emboldened, be courageous…like our good shepherd feel freed to stand at the very edge of the thin space between life and death…assuring a safe passage for those who pass behind you. Despite perceptions of any sorts of outcomes from your own shepherding ministry…Easter promises that love alone has already claimed victory. Amen.