The Fourth Sunday of Easter
April 25, 2021
The Rev. Christine Gilson
Until I was in my twenties my images of sheep and shepherds were shaped by stained glass, Sunday school, and the children’s hymn you will hear during communion: “I am Jesus’ little lamb/Ever glad at heart I am/For my shepherd gently guides me/Knows my needs and well provides me/Loves me every day the same/ Even calls me by my name.”
But years ago, I had an experience that changed all my images of sheep and shepherds, and led me to understand scripture better.
I was completely a city kid, and like some of you, I saw green grass under a blue sky with maybe a few white clouds. The sheep on the grass are as white as the clouds – they are sweet and clean and obedient. The good shepherd, with a lamb on his shoulders, and a crook in his hand looks out over the flock in a clean white robe. The whole picture is one of bliss.
That changed when Preston and I were first married. I went to visit his grandmother in New Mexico. Grandma Daughtrey raised a small flock of sheep. On my first morning there, I went out to the pen. I think I had some notion of “making friends.” I discovered that the sheep were not clean; their wool was not a gleaming white; they were not nestled in green grass – and the lambs were not the sort of creatures I would have wanted to carry on my shoulders! They were also really disorderly. When I saw them all trying to go through a gate, all I had to compare them with was people trying to get on a bus on a crowded city street – pushing and shoving, either following the people in front too closely, or crowding ahead of others, or all trying to get through at once.
I also found out very quickly that the sheep were scared of me – like the hired hand Jesus speaks of. If I said anything, even in a whisper, they would panic and either scatter all over the pen or huddle together at the far corner with their backs to me, hoping, I guess, that I wouldn’t see them.
Grandma heard the bleating, saw me as a predator, and came out to tell me I was scaring her sheep and to be quiet.
When she came out to the pen, they were transformed. Grandma was definitely the good shepherd of that flock. They ran to her when she appeared and spoke to them. They trusted her so much that, I suppose if she had walked off a cliff, they would have followed her. She loved those sheep – and they knew it. And, she was not afraid of predators. She had a shotgun to get rid of coyotes who would kill her sheep. She got up in the middle of the night to protect and comfort them. And, yes, she would probably have laid down her life for them if it came to that.
Jesus was speaking to people who knew about sheep. He was speaking to people who lived in a country of rocky ground and uncertain grass and water, scorching heat and predators. He was speaking to people who knew that sheep were far from clean and fluffy, and that shepherds themselves were dirty, and hungry, and generally rejected by the rest of society –as he himself would be.
I also discovered something else. I finally began to understand that the truth of all the biblical images is that we really are like sheep in some ways. Left to ourselves, without someone who cares deeply for us, we enter into chaos. We only need to think of the past year – horribly chaotic in so many ways. But, unlike sheep, we have the gift of free will. Sheep have no choice to be other than what they are – they cannot choose not to run and not to be chaotic – they are not invested with freedom to think about their actions and choose what they do.
But we have free will – we have the ability to choose. When we get to a certain age, we begin to want to do everything ourselves, not to rely on anyone for help. God forbid, we should think ourselves as vulnerable as sheep – we can function on our own, thank you. We can choose to rely on the good shepherd – or not.
Now – you might say that relying on God is all very well and good – but that reliance doesn’t “pay the bills” as it were. No – that is true. But God has given us the will and the ability to be shepherds of each other.
The Epistle of First John extends the gospel. The Epistle doesn’t use the metaphor of the Shepherd, but we get the point. The shepherd laid down his life for us, and we are to do the same for each other – however that “laying down our lives looks like. At the very least, we are to give help to our brothers and sisters in need – and we are all in need of some sort – even in need of an encouraging word. “Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action.” How does anyone know that God’s love abides in us if we do not demonstrate it by sharing that love with one another? Love in action is commanded by Jesus – the shepherd we are to accept as our model, and to follow. We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us– and we ought to lay down our lives for one another. How does God’s love abide in anyone who has the world’s goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help?
In our Baptismal Covenant, we vow to do what the Epistle tells us: to proclaim by word and example (especially by example) the Good News of God in Christ. To seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbors as ourselves, to strive for justice and peace, and respect the dignity of every human being.” That is how we are to follow Jesus Christ in being shepherds
In light of all the tragedy in the world – the pandemic, hatred of people for each other based on their gender, ethnicity, and color, continuing wars the Good Shepherd still holds out hope – it is our choice – to hear him call our name and obey him buy laying down our own lives in some way, and to cast ourselves on him for support and care.