May 14, 2000

What's a Good Shepherd, Anyway?

Rev. Sean Cox

Acts 4 [23-31] 32-37 / Psalm 23 / 1 John 3:1-8 / John 10:11-16

 

Did you ever know somebody who had a propensity for asking you the tough questions that you didn't want to answer? Maybe it was that friend to whom you admitted you were going to write a book — your memoirs, and that friend calls you up and says, "So how's the book coming?" Or, maybe it's a family member, and since this is Mother's Day, I recall my mom who has that uncanny propensity for asking me questions that I don't want to be asked. The questions that my worst enemy could ask would not phase me a bit, but when my mom asks, I bristle.

The Pharisees also had a reputation for asking questions that nobody wanted to answer. They were sticklers for the law, and they had kind of a bad rap in the New Testament. It is also true that they weren't the best friends to Jesus, and they did conspire with the Romans to have Jesus executed — but a few things the Pharisees did very well. One of them was to ask hard questions, the kind that nobody wanted to answer, but the kind that needed to be asked: about life, about life with God, about living out the law.

From the statements that Jesus makes, beginning with "I am" in the Gospel of John, it's easy for us to imagine the Pharisees asking Jesus, "Who are you?" Ask yourself that — Who are you? — apart from your occupation, apart from your family, apart from your gender, or however else we are accustomed to defining ourselves. Nobody walks up to you at a party and asks, "Who are you in the existential sense." We ask, "What do you do? Where do you live? Who are you related to?" We are not accustomed to asking ourselves what makes us tick.

When Jesus answers the question for himself, his answer is long and complicated. "I am the true vine; I am the living water; I am the good shepherd." He answers in poetry, not in prose. So what does he mean when he says, "I am the good shepherd?"

We all have the image of Sunday School in our minds, with Jesus as the good shepherd gently nudging the sheep in the right direction. We all hold the image in our minds of sheep being led to still waters, and yet, we've also had the experience of being shepherded. Given that the standard issue of equipment for a shepherd is a stick and a dog — that experience isn't always so gentle!

The Pharisees want to know of Jesus, "Who do you claim to be? Define yourself, Jesus! Let me put you into a category so I can be comfortable with you. Are you a good guy or a bad guy? Are you a saint or a heretic? Are you for us or against us?" As usual, Jesus doesn't answer the question as it is asked. Instead, he calls upon the image of the shepherd, and describes himself as the sort person who can lead us out of narrow enclosures and into open pastures.

As the sheep know the shepherd, we know Christ. As the shepherd knows the sheep, Jesus knows us. We know from all biblical accounts, that Jesus went out of his way to know people. He could see things about people at first sight that no one else could. Remember the range of responses Jesus had to people that he encountered — everywhere from anger toward the hypocrite who tried to trick him, to compassion for the soldier whose daughter had just died, to sadness for the loss of Lazarus. Jesus could not be fooled by human nature because he knew every aspect of it.

Jesus knows his people. He knows you; he knows me; he can be known. He went out of his way to assure us of that. He was known by every type of person we could ever imagine: simple fishermen, tax collectors, the elderly, the children, Jews, Gentiles, prostitutes, men and women — everybody. He went out of his way to make sure he knew every strata of his culture. He was known then; he is known today.

Christianity is not a religion based on a theology or a series of propositions about God. Christianity is built on a story of a life. When we know Jesus, our lives are changed and that is the strength of the Christian life — knowing Jesus and being known by him. When the church knows the shepherd, we will be one flock. When we know Jesus, we will hear the shepherd's voice and will be led from whatever narrow enclosures that threaten to imprison us.

Who are you? One thing is for sure, there is only one Good Shepherd and you and I aren't it. You and I are followers of Jesus who says who he is, and as he meant then, he means it now — the Good Shepherd worthy of being followed. AMEN.

The The Rev. Sean Cox
seancox@stmargarets.org
14 May 2000