Sermon for the Fourth Sunday of Easter, April 21, 2024
Acts 4:5-12+Psalm 23+1 John 3:16-24+John 10:11-18
A news story was making the rounds among the socials this week that actually took place ten years ago in 2014. I missed it then, but it struck me as an excellent introduction to this 4th Sunday of Easter which is known as Good Shepherd Sunday. The shepherd narrative in John's 10th chapter is divided among the three years of the lectionary cycle, and the 23rd Psalm is the psalm for this day each of those three years. The John narrative really doesn't make much sense broken into three pieces like this, and just when I despair of having some fresh insight to offer, along comes a ten-year-old story from the Daily Mail to the rescue.[1]
As the story goes, a semi-professional skier named Pete Oswald was in the middle of a photo shoot high up in the Hector Mountains on the south island of New Zealand when he saw what looked like a giant white snowball tumbling down the side of the mountain. When it came to a stop, he realized that it was a ewe - a female sheep - and he skied over to it, finding her dazed and confused with a bloody nose and staggering around, clearly not able to walk. Oswald figured that if he left the sheep, she would surely die, so he hoisted her - all 88 pounds - up into his arms and started skiing down the mountain.
Now I am not a skier, but I understand that center of gravity is really important when you are hurtling down the slopes, so it was a significant challenge for Oswald, with wool in his face and the ewe's legs flailing about, to get himself down the mountain. He says he almost fell any number of times which could have been dangerous for him if he, too, started tumbling down the mountain.
But our story has a happy ending. Ewe and skier made it safely, and after a moment or two, the sheep seemed to regain her feet and ambled off, and Oswald was left with quite a story to tell.
Dan Oswald and the sheep (photo from the Daily Mail, September 9, 2014)
"Jesus said, “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep" (John 10:11). As I said, I am not a skier, but flying down a mountain on skis carrying an 80-pound dead-weight of mammal sounds a lot like laying down one's life for a literal sheep.
As a rule, we are not - most of us - all that familiar with animal husbandry and agriculture and have a somewhat romanticized view of caring for livestock. But I ask you, what was that sheep doing way up a mountain in the snow, anyway? They are not the brightest animal in the barnyard, I understand. If we take this sheep analogy too far, we have to realize that we are those not-too-bright sheep and yes, Jesus did lay down his life for us.
I'm just not sure that's what John is talking about.
In the Hebrew scriptures, our Old Testament, a shepherd is often the imagery used for a king. In the 23rd Psalm, the shepherd - or king - is the one who provides, who leads, who protects, and is the one in whose house, or under whose rule, we dwell.
That is not what kings were like in the Ancient Near East. They hoarded wealth and power and crushed threats to their rule. The poor and needy were of no concern to them. So, a king as shepherd is an anomaly. It turns the expected order upside down.
And this is exactly what Jesus does. He does not follow the script of the anticipated messiah. He does not seek or use worldly power, instead telling his followers that the first will be last and those who want to save their life will lose it. He literally gave up his life rather than use violence in response to violence.
But we can't get too comfortable with thinking we understand the role of a shepherd, either, because a shepherd will not likely die for her flock. A shepherd will not leave the entire flock to go find that random one who got lost. Yet this is Jesus's message. Whatever it is you expect a savior to do and be, that won't be it. If you begin to think you are the chosen ones, this shepherd will tell you that there are other sheep who belong to the fold. About the time we think we have this shepherd figured out, we learn something else that confounds our expectations.
All too often, we have entrusted ourselves in those hired hands, those we think will take care of us or protect us - governments and politicians and corporations and employers. But we all know that as soon as the next source of profit or power or privilege pops up, we are going to fall way down the list of priorities.
Not so with the Good Shepherd. Our Good Shepherd will ski down a mountain holding onto us, no matter how much kicking and screaming we may do, claiming we can take care of ourselves, thank you very much, and we don't need someone to tell us that we aren't so special, that there are others in the flock and that our flock is not as exclusive as we think it is.
If there is anything we are forced to reckon with through the Easter season, it is this: our salvation does not depend on our own efforts. We are not the deciders of who is in and who is out. We put boundaries around God's grace and mercy at our own peril. Our job is to trust that we are in the arms of a loving God making sure we get down that mountain safely and restoring us to safety and security among the community that we call Church.
God loves each one of us beyond measure. We may not be able to understand why God loves all those other people, too, but it is not our job to understand that. We are to go and do likewise and trust that our Good Shepherd will safely lead us home.
[1] https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2748848/Ski-pro-saves-40kg-sheep-stuck-New-Zealand-mountain.html