Fourth Sunday of Easter
Readings - Acts 9.36-43; Psalm 23; Revelation 7.9-17; John 10.22-30
What tone do you think Jesus uses when he says to his disciples I am the Good Shepherd?
It could be compassion (green pastures and still waters?), could be assurance of presence (I’m with you in the valley of the shadow of death), could be instructional (my rod and staff will comfort you); could be giving assurance of strong support (I lay out a table of bounty for you so your enemies see what they’re up against) or perhaps it’s celebratory (welcome you’ve reached your true home where you know peace.)
I reckon it depends on what’s going on in your life when you hear his words – and that’s the point Jesus is making in today’s 3rd and final section of what scholars call his ‘Good Shepherd’ teaching.
You had to be here last year and the year before to hear the other two sections – our 3 year reading plan expects us to remember! (Or you could pick up a Bible and read the whole of Ch 10 yourself.)
Prior to today’s reading he’s told us about being the Shepherd – a political statement of authority, leadership and mutual responsibility (GS looks after me, I’m answerable to you), he’s told us about being the gate, the way that can be opened or closed – a religious assertion with both spiritual and judicial elements, and this year he’s saying to the temple hierarchy that they fail to hear and see and recognise the identity of Jesus. They are outside the kingdom of God
because they do not recognise or accept his relationship with God.
Simply put, Jesus is saying that their failure to recognise him, Jesus, as showing them how to live as God’s people is because their values, attitudes and behaviours are putting an uncrossable barrier a yawning chasm / a brick wall between them and God.
It seems that rigorously keeping the laws, the traditions and commandments handed down by their ancestors was not a guarantee of God’s favour – to belong required listening to the voice of Jesus, being in relationship with him, following him.
In V. 27 he says clearly My sheep hear my voice. I know them and they follow me
And all this is taking place at the feast of dedication, a time of renewal – held during the time of darkness, winter, in the part of the temple that survived from the time of Solomon, the place where the kings of Israel passed judgement.
Let me remind me that scholars see John’s Gospel as being full of symbols – light/ dark; sight/blindness; belief/doubt, resurrection life/violence and death – he’s speaking to us, are you in the dark, is it night or are you standing in the light? Is it winter for you? Are you among my sheep?
The Gospel shows us the signs of life and invites us to decide for ourselves.
A number of years ago Doug and I took a 3 week walk across the narrow bit of England – from the Lakes District to the North Sea. It was spring, and one of our many delights was to see the newborn lambs in the fields. We’d walk into a field and as one all the mums would raise their heads and let out a bleat – and, as one all the lambs would scamper straight back to their mum and get straight down to the serious business of suckling.
Weeks later at the end of our walk things had changed. We’d enter a field, as one the mums would raise their heads and bleat, and the lambs might raise their heads, might check us out, but they definitely didn’t rush back to the comfort, security and safety mum offered.
These slightly older lambs heard, but they’d stopped listening and responding.
We live in a world of competing voices. Do we as Christ’s followers discern and follow his voice, his word, amidst this cacophony?
Do we choose to ‘come to ourselves’ like the prodigal son did and open ourselves to God?
Do we claim our freedom to embrace and commit to hearing the radical voice of Jesus, to letting his words guide us and bind us.
I’m always amazed when I read the stories of the call of the disciples – Jesus walks by, says to them, follow me and they immediately drop their nets and follow! They left everything else so they could be part of bringing in God’s realm, God’s kingdom.
Most of us find that hard because changing – opening our hearts and minds to other ways of being and doing is challenging
I have great empathy for the temple authorities; they were doing what they had been taught by all those who had gone before them.
Justin Welby, the ex Archbishop of Canterbury was speaking to a businessman who started the conversation by saying: "We differ on many things, but at least we can both agree that the church exists to do good".
Welby says “It was too easy a full toss for even a non cricket playing Brit to miss, "no", I replied, "we disagree on that. The church exists to worship God in Jesus Christ, and to lead as many people as it can to be His disciples. When we do those things we don't do good, we change the world."
Hearing his voice, following his way.
If we fall back on our own resources we’ll find emptiness and be lured into despair. But if we listen and are open to Christ and bring ourselves, offering ourselves, witnessing to the transforming love of God, saying ‘here I am’ we find not ease, not comfort but peace and hope
Christ is Risen Alleluia! He is risen indeed, Alleluia.
The Venerable Valerie Hoare.