Rev. Eugene N. Nelson, Jr.
The Community Church of Sebastopol
May 2, 2004
John 10: 11-28
I have read that if you have a line of sheep and you put a barrier in front of the first sheep, so it has to jump over, then all the sheep in the line will keep jumping. Even if you remove the barrier, the sheep will keep jumping – when one jumps, the next one will jump – it does whatever the sheep in front of it does. When you think about it, every year the fashion industry gambles millions of dollars that we will behave the same way – when we see someone wearing something, we all have to wear it. Donald Trump wears pastel neckties on television; pretty soon we all will be wearing pastel neckties.
Getting back to sheep, as animals they clearly are not the sharpest tools in the shed. And in first century Palestine, shepherds – those who cared for dirty, stupid sheep - were looked down upon and were generally thought to be just as dirty and stupid as the sheep they took care of. All of which makes today’s scripture lesson rather interesting. For Jesus calls himself “the Good Shepherd” and all those who follow him “his sheep.” And I don’t know how you feel being called a flock of sheep, the dirty, unkempt, untidy flock of Jesus. “Oh yeah, those folks up at The Community Church, just a bunch of dumb sheep!”
But in fairness to sheep, I guess there is something else that could be said. They develop a particular relationship with their shepherd. And clearly Jesus understood this. One colleague of mine has said: “You don’t push sheep, you lead sheep and they will not go anywhere that someone else does not go first, namely - their shepherd – who goes ahead of them to show them that everything is all right.
“Sheep grow fond of their shepherds. They seem to consider their shepherds part of the family and they develop a language of their own that outsiders are not privy to…In Palestine today, it is still possible to witness a scene that Jesus almost certainly saw two thousand years ago. When Bedouin shepherds bring their flocks home from the various pastures they have grazed during the day, the flocks will often end up at the same watering hole around dusk, all mixed up together – eight or nine small flocks turning into a convention of thirsty sheep. Their shepherds do not worry about the mix up, however. When it is time to go home, each one issues his or her own distinctive call and that shepherd’s sheep withdraw from the crowd to follow their shepherd home. They know to whom they belong; they know their shepherd’s voice, and it is the only one they will follow.” There, now you know more about sheep than you ever wanted to know and you will be tested later this morning! Clearly Jesus knew something about shepherds and their sheep – he understood they have this shared language.
Turning to our text, Jesus once again finds himself embroiled in controversy with the religious leaders of Jerusalem. People are divided over their views of him and just exactly what it is he is doing. Is he out of his mind? Is he a demon? Or could it be that he is actually sent from God? And so, in the Temple, during the festival of Hanukkah, he is asked, “Are you the Messiah or not?” He refuses to give them a yes or no answer. They wouldn’t believe him if he did. Instead he gives this rather curious response, “You do not believe because you do not belong to my sheep. My sheep hear my voice. I know them and they follow me.” Heard any voices lately? Do you feel like you are part of the flock or not? This can be a challenging text.
On the one hand, we could say that we have got to be a part of Jesus’ flock. Hey, we are baptized, church-going, dues-paying Christians. We celebrate the Lord’s Supper on Sunday and do our best to be faithful disciples of Jesus the other days of the week. I mean, if we are not his sheep then who is? We may not be too sure about the Methodists or Lutherans down the street… but we’re pretty sure that we’re in … or are we? For I suspect there are a number of us here today who are not all that confident in our faith. Some who have doubts, who aren’t real clear about just what it is you do believe. Maybe there are days when you feel you have faith enough to move mountains, and others when you are afraid to get out of bed. Maybe you’ve heard the Lord’s voice in your life…maybe, but you cannot quite make it out, you just aren’t sure. And so you listen, you wait for the moment of recognition, for that voice that will tell you whose you are and where you belong. You wait. But it does not always come. And you wonder, “Where do I belong? Just what do I believe? Maybe I am outside his flock after all.”
A tough text. Who’s in? Who’s out? Who hears? Who doesn’t? I’ve served this congregation for a number of years now and my experience tells me that most of us find ourselves in that second group from time to time. For some of us, indeed, a number of us find ourselves in the second group most of the time. We have our doubts, our questions, our lack of certainty. When it comes to the voice of Christ, our hearing isn’t always too good. We hear this text and we aren’t sure we have what it takes to belong, to be a part of Christ’s flock.
I had someone tell me recently that the reason he stays home alone, doesn’t invite his friends over or socialize, the reason he turns down invitations from his golfing buddies to do something with them, is that he is afraid, in his words, “I won’t do it right.” He worries he won’t measure up, he won’t meet their impossibly high standards – at least what he imagines to be their impossibly high standards. And so he sits home alone and then complains that no one ever visits or calls
And maybe it is easier to stay outside of Jesus’ flock. Sounds like it is reserved for the true believers, after all, those who are on a first name basis with God. Not for the likes of us. The standards of faith are way too high. But are they really? I hope not. I hope not.
I’ve studied lots of theology, believe it or not, read lots of books, spent much of my adult life pouring over the scriptures, wondering how they might be speaking to me – to us – in this day and age. I continue faithfully to pursue continuing education in theology, preaching, and Bible. And yet, when it comes to where I stand with Christ, where I stand in the flock, I’m no different than anyone else. More often than not, faith for me is a come-and-go kind of thing. Today, during communion, I may very well feel assurance and conviction rise within me. Christ will be right here, right at my shoulder, no doubt about it. But then I will wander out of here, back into the world, away from the fold, and it will be more difficult. Other voices will compete for my attention. Anxieties and fears will assault me. I may get another call from my father saying my mother is having a terrible week. And what today seems so sure, so certain, begins to fade. His voice may become very faint, almost impossible for me to hear and recognize.
But none of that may be the point. The good news is that this text isn’t really about me or us – our faith, our belief, our ability to hear. This text is about Christ, the good shepherd. And listen carefully to what he says, and does not say. This is not a text about rules and requirements. Jesus does not say you are admitted to the flock only if you believe and are excluded if you don’t. No, he says that if you are in the flock, you are one of his. Being in the flock seems far more important than believing all the right things. Being in the flock would seem to be the first step in hearing the shepherd’s voice.
Well, here we are. Here we sit in the midst of the flock. And maybe we aren’t too sure what to think about the doctrine of the Trinity. And maybe we still have lingering questions about what really happened on Easter Sunday. And during the prayer time, we may find ourselves wondering if anyone “out there” really hears our prayers. But again, that’s not the point. The point is that we are here. Something – or someone – has called us here this day to be a part of this gathering, this flock. Some way, somehow, we heard something, maybe it was just the alarm, but we heard something and we came. And as I read this text, that is just about enough - it's enough for Christ to keep us, to begin to claim us as his very own. And he will not let us go. Believe this if you can’t believe anything else. Our relationship with the shepherd is not based upon who we are; it is based upon who the shepherd is. And he is a pretty darn good shepherd.
Barbara Brown Taylor says: “So if sometimes you have trouble hearing the voice of your shepherd, be patient with yourself...It is not a voice that always speaks in words, much less complete sentences, but it can usually be heard sometime between your getting up and your lying down each day, leading you beside the still waters, restoring your soul. Be patient with yourself, and while you are at it, be patient with the rest of us too. You cannot follow a shepherd by yourself, after all. You are stuck with this flock, or some flock, and everybody knows that sheep are, well, sheep. They panic easily and refuse to be pushed. They make most of their decisions based on their appetites and they tend to get into head-butting contests for no good reason at all. But stick with the flock. It is where the shepherd can be found, which makes it your best bet not only for survival but also for joy.”
And above all, understand that you belong here, with all your doubts, uncertainties, questions, you belong here. Again, if you do not believe anything else, believe that – that whether you are here because you believe or because you want to believe or because you want to think about believing, you are here because you belong to Christ’s sheep just like the rest of us, and nothing shall snatch us out of his loving hand. Here we are, and here we belong.