Sermon for Fourth Sunday of Easter

Sermon for Fourth Sunday of Easter

[Machine transcription]

Christ is risen.
Grace, mercy, and peace from God the Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

This Sunday, you might often hear it referred to as Good Shepherd Sunday, and I think it’s interesting that in our gospel text, we really don’t even get to the verses that talk about the Good Shepherd himself. But to follow the sequence of events in today’s gospel lesson, we need to rewind and go all the way back to the fourth Sunday in Lent, when we heard how Jesus had healed this man who had been blind since birth. Many there who saw this happen, or saw this man, including Jesus’ disciples, wondered at the man’s blindness, and they said, “Well, this blindness must be some punishment for his or his parents’ great sin.”

So after Jesus gives the man his sight back, the Pharisees pounce on him, and they interrogate him ruthlessly, demanding to know how he’d been healed, who had healed him. He told them the man called Jesus did it, he restored my sight. The Pharisees proceeded to first doubt that the man had really ever been blind at all, and they continued to hound him mercilessly about this healing and about Jesus. Eventually, they judged him to just simply be a liar and a sinner, and they cast him out of the synagogue.

Jesus rebukes the Pharisees for their own blindness— their spiritual blindness, their lack of faith. And so that’s where we pick up with the gospel lesson this morning. Jesus is not done with his rebuke to the Pharisees. We know Jesus likes to speak in parables. This time he uses what they call a paramea—a proverb or a figure of speech—and I think maybe Jesus did this to kind of dumb it down for them as he teaches this lesson. But as every time before, the Pharisees still don’t get it.

Jesus is attempting to show them the difference between the sheep who respond to the shepherd whom they know and trust, and how sheep react to strangers who want to lead them astray. More importantly, Jesus shows how the shepherd cares for his sheep. Now, you probably didn’t come here this morning thinking that you were going to get a short lesson in animal husbandry, but I want to digress for a few minutes and refresh our memory about the role of the shepherd so that we really have this picture in our mind of what Jesus is talking about here.

Although the vocation of shepherd today is practiced only in some of the most rural and unsophisticated regions of the world, it was, of course, a common vocation in Jesus’ day. The imagery of shepherd and sheep is found sprinkled throughout Scripture. The shepherd is this picture of a simple servant, often looked down on as the lowest of occupations. It was a very dangerous job. He fended off wild animals. The shepherd was never off duty and was almost constantly with the flock.

I like to think we might want to consider David. When Samuel came to his father Jesse to anoint one of his sons as king, the Lord led him to pass over the first seven brothers and asked, “Is there another brother?” Jesse said, “Yeah, there remains yet the youngest, but behold, he is with the sheep.” I think Jesse probably said this for a couple of reasons. First, it was David’s job to be with the sheep, and he didn’t have any business leaving them. Second, there’s no way that this little boy, this ordinary shepherd, is going to be the king of Israel. And yet, this ordinary lowly servant was just the person the Lord had in mind to be king.

Since we look at the shepherd, we have to also look at the sheep. Now, I don’t think sheep have the reputation of being the most attractive of God’s creatures, especially in terms of one that we might want to compare ourselves to. True enough, lambs are cute; they are the embodiment of innocence and meekness. However, lambs grow up to be sheep. Sheep can be stubborn and hard-headed. They have a unique odor about them. Dirt and dust stick to them because of the lanolin in their wool, and they will get you dirty and greasy if they rub up against you. They’re not really all that intelligent. They frighten easily, and they have a herd mentality, a flock mentality actually; people who are thought to be timid, easily influenced, or easily manipulated are referred to as sheep, or by a more recent combination of words, “sheeple.” Sheeple are those who can’t think for themselves; they’re oblivious to threats and rely on the strength of others.

So let’s face it, you aren’t paying someone a compliment when you say they are sheepish, and yet we are sheep because our Lord calls us his sheep, especially in the book of Psalms and especially here in the gospel of St. John.

As I said, it’s a little bit of a shame that we’re not going to get to the actual verses about Jesus saying he’s the Good Shepherd. Maybe I’ll have a word with the lectionary committee about that. But for now, I want us to focus back on this lesson. Jesus calls the one who doesn’t enter the sheepfold by the door a thief and a robber.

Now, a sheepfold is or was a pen or a corral of sorts, probably made of rock or stone, in which a flock of sheep, or maybe several flocks of sheep, would be kept overnight. These sheepfolds might be found out in the countryside or in a village. The sheepfold would have a gatekeeper or a watchman—one who was charged with making sure no sheep got out and that only the shepherd was allowed to access the sheep.

When the shepherd arrived, most of the time in the dark before dawn, the gatekeeper would allow the shepherd access to call his sheep out because they would follow him. Jesus says as much. He says the sheep follow the shepherd even though they couldn’t see him, for they know his voice.

There might be several flocks in the sheepfold, but only the sheep who belong to that particular shepherd are going to follow him. If a thief or a robber somehow is allowed access into the sheepfold, the sheep would not be fooled into following him because they wouldn’t know his voice. In fact, as Jesus says, they would flee from him.

Again, the Pharisees are dumbfounded by all this. It’s not like the Pharisees didn’t understand the nature of sheep herding; Jesus wasn’t trying to teach them about animal husbandry. No, as usual, the Pharisees don’t get it. They don’t even think Jesus is talking about them when he calls them thieves and robbers. They were still guilty, as before, of claiming to see, and yet they were still lost in their spiritual blindness.

So Jesus tries once more, and he’s pretty explicit. He says, “I am the door of the sheep. I am the one who guards the access to the sheepfold and to the flock. I am the one who allows those who are the right preachers and teachers of the Word to lead the flock. You, you Pharisees, are among those who came before me as thieves and robbers. You are those whom the Lord called the prophet Ezekiel to warn the people of Israel about.”

Ezekiel chapter 34 would have been a good first reading for today. Something else I’ll get with the lectionary committee about. In chapter 34, God tells Ezekiel to go to the shepherds of Israel and say, “Ah, shepherds of Israel who have been feeding yourselves! Should not shepherds feed the sheep? The weak you have not strengthened, the sick you have not healed, the injured you have not bound up, the strayed you have not brought back, the lost you have not sought.”

So they were scattered because there was no shepherd, and they became food for all the wild beasts. Jesus says, “Guess what? The sheep belong to me, and they won’t listen to you. You come only to steal and kill and destroy, but I have come to seek out my sheep, to rescue them from all the places where they have been scattered. I will seek the lost. I will bring back the strayed. I will bind up the injured. I will strengthen the weak. I will feed them in justice. They will have life, and they will have it abundantly—just like this blind man whom you cast out of the flock, but I now return to the sheepfold.”

Dear brothers and sisters, the sheepfold that Jesus speaks about is the church, and Christ shows that there is only one way into the church—the body of believers—and that is through him, the door of the sheep. Though Jesus is the only Good Shepherd over his church, over his vast flock, he does call and appoint servants to serve and shepherd sheep of their own here on earth.

Before his ascension, Christ charged his disciples with their own flocks here on earth. Now, in a few weeks, we’ll enter the season of Pentecost and leave the gospel of St. John behind. We won’t make it to this closing chapter where St. John recounts this third appearance of Jesus after his resurrection. As Jesus is there, among the disciples, is the one who strayed from the flock in a moment of weakness—the one who actually denied Christ. But Jesus asks him, “Do you love me more than these?”

Peter answers, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” Jesus replies, “Feed my lambs. Do you love me?” Peter responds again, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” Jesus instructs him, “Tend my sheep.” Finally, Jesus asks Simon, son of John, “Do you love me?” Peter replies, “Lord, you know everything. You know that I love you.” Jesus commands, “Feed my sheep.” What an awesome responsibility Christ gives to his shepherds here on earth.

No doubt we are sheep, but we’re exactly the opposite of the world’s perception of sheep. We don’t follow blindly. Just as our Lord gave sheep some innate inner ability to hear and know their shepherd’s voice, he does the same for us by the Holy Spirit. We know, trust, and believe that he is our Good Shepherd, that he feeds us and keeps us safe from harm because he loves us. He loves us even when we’re unlovable. He loves us even when we’re stubborn and hard-headed. He loves us even though we are smelly and greasy and covered in the corruption of sin.

But when we wander off, he grabs us by the neck with his rod and crook and puts us back on the path to green pasture. When we go astray and call out for him to rescue us, he searches us out, picks us up, carries us on his shoulders, and brings us back to the sheepfold. He washes our dirty bodies clean in our baptism, taking our sins that though they be like scarlet, they become white as snow. That though they are red like crimson, they become like wool. He takes our dirty robes, washes them white with his own blood—the blood of salvation on the cross. Though we are the people of his pasture and the sheep of his hand, we will always be his little lambs.

In a few minutes, one of our communion hymns will be “I Am Jesus’ Little Lamb.” When my family and I were members of St. Peter up in Bowie, we always sang this hymn at a baptism. As the congregation sang, Pastor Brummett would carry the newborn infant up and down the aisle so everybody could see this new brother or sister in Christ—this new little lamb who was now a member of the flock. But I’m afraid that, kind of like with “Jesus Loves Me,” we think of “I Am Jesus’ Little Lamb” as some kid’s song.

However, I think we should be delighted that we get to sing it today, and as we do, I pray that we really reflect on its simple words: “I am Jesus’ little lamb, ever glad at heart I am, for my shepherd gently guides me, knows my need and well provides me, loves me every day the same, even calls me by my name.”

Dear friends, we belong to Jesus, and because we belong to him, we joyfully go in and out. We are freed from the condemnation of the law and from sin. Jesus is our shepherd. He’s always right there in front of us, leading us in the way to salvation. He daily and richly supplies us with his grace, and he has given his own life for us that we may have life and have it abundantly. His love is unchanging and never-ending. He knows us, and we know him, and he is our Good Shepherd. Amen.

Now may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen. Christ is risen.