A sermon for two rural churches without a “pastor”. The gospel for the day is John 10:11-18 (text below).
I am, I am, I am.
This is the name that rolls round the mind of the beloved community.
I AM, the very being of God as disclosed to Moses. Simply, I AM who I AM.
I AM, I AM, the name given even to Jesus by the community of beloved disciples as they explore the meaning of the God they find in Jesus.
I AM
This is what being is all about.
I am, I am, I am.
There are seven I AM sayings of the beloved community in John’s gospel.
Seven, as in the days of the week, as in the sign of perfection and completion.
This is how they loved Jesus. This is how they found God. This is how they saw salvation.
I am, I am, I am.
I am the bread of life,
the light of the world I am.
I am the door,
the good shepherd I am.
I am the resurrection,
the way, the truth and the life I am.
I am the vine.
I am.
This is how the beloved community singles Jesus out, in these seven sayings. Jesus is who we say he is. Jesus is who he says “I am”. This is who Jesus is to the beloved disciple – incidentally ruling out who he is not.
Today is the fourth Sunday of Easter, known as Good Shepherd Sunday. These are the words ringing in the ears of the beloved community this morning. “I am the good shepherd”.
I know how important sheep and lambs are in your lives round here – how much you care for them and how you’ve worried for their welfare through these months of exceptionally wet weather. You know what good shepherding is all about.
I also know that you are waiting patiently for good shepherds to pastor you, and that you are praying that those the diocese appoints to these parishes will be good shepherds who will themselves have ruled out what the beloved community know Jesus isn’t – the opposite of the hired hand, the opposite of the one who leaves the sheep and runs away as soon as he sees the wolves coming, thinking only of themselves and abandoning the sheep.
That’s not the Lord, our shepherd, who stays with his people even while they walk through the valley overshadowed by death, spreading a table before us so we can eat even while others trouble us.
I am the good shepherd. The Lord is my shepherd. These are the words at the heart of the people God makes his beloved community. And we, the beloved community know the truth of what makes a good shepherd.
The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep he owns and knows.
Have you thought about this? The good shepherd lost his life to the wolves. The wolves circled and he didn’t run.
The wolves licked their lips and he didn’t budge.
The wolves scented blood and he gave them his own.
These are metaphorical wolves. Actual wolves have virtues and they have their rightful place in our animal kingdom. Metaphorical wolves have none. They are devious and deceitful. They are around us and they are savage.
They can eat your grandma and then disguise themselves as grandma to little Red Riding Hood. “Grandma, what a deep voice you have!” “All the better to greet you with”. “Grandma, what big eyes you have!” “All the better to see you with.” “And what big hands you’ve got!” “All the better to embrace you with.” “Grandma, what a big mouth you have!” “All the better to eat you with.”
These metaphorical wolves are masters of disguise. The good shepherd sees their danger. He knows wolves come in sheep’s clothing and infiltrate his beloved community. Sometimes the wolf even takes on the shepherd’s clothing and grooms the metaphorical sheep, (beloved disciples) for his wicked ways. (I believe that is a storyline currently being explored in Eastenders.)
The wolves are around us in their many disguises. I don’t know where you’re at in your personal journeys. Some of you may be enjoying a relatively easy path in your lives. Others may be on rockier roads, in the pits, even walking the valley in the shadow of death.
For some, their road is very dangerous. They are particularly vulnerable to attack from those who would groom them, harm them, ridicule them, profit from them, even kill them.
We must never forget the long and really difficult journeys refugees from around the world are having to take. Hounded from their homes by metaphorical wolves, they are prey to wolves in every twist and turn of their journey as they put their lives into the hands of one agent after another – each wanting their cut and their piece of flesh. And there are those living in the crossfire of wolves in warzones, such as Gaza and Ukraine.
I’m reading a book set in England in the middle of the 14th century – the time of the plague. Is plague one of the wolf’s disguises? Was Covid?
Good shepherds stand with their sheep. They don’t run away when they see the wolf coming. They sound the alarm. They take precautions. They stand firm.They take the front line. They absorb the shocks. They become shelter. And sometimes they lose their life.
Like Jesus. The wolves savaged him. They were disguised as religious leaders and political leaders. The following he was getting (the sheep and the size of the flock) frightened them. They came for him, so that they could get at them. They took him away. They accused him. They mocked him. They stripped him. They slashed him. They crucified him.
The Naked Pastor draws many gospel cartoons. His name is David Hayward. This cartoon by the Naked Pastor is of the naked pastor. Pastor means shepherd, and here we see the good shepherd, the pastor stripped naked on the cross. In the foreground we see the wolves. They are taunting Jesus, making fun of him. They’re laughing at him, gritting their teeth at him, flexing their muscle against him, and raising their arms, their weapons of war, showing their killing teeth.
This is Jesus being savaged by a pack of wolves.
Over and over again we marvel. The good shepherd does not run away when the wolves come. He lays down his life for the sheep so that the wolves can’t scatter and snatch the sheep. I dare say we have sweetened this gospel over time – but what John is describing here is fierce. The opposition to the beloved community is fierce, but the attachment of the good shepherd to the flock is just as fierce. Blood is spilled and life is lost. But just as the good shepherd has the power to lay down his life, so he has the power to take it up again. And that places this gospel in our Easter liturgy – this fourth Sunday of Easter.
It’s a fierce gospel for savage times when metaphorical wolves roam our streets in their many disguises. It’s a gospel for our times – our mean time in which we need the protection of good shepherds – the sort who will give their lives for the sheep – the sort you wait to be pastor in your community.
At the moment, wolves and sheep remain enemies. The wolf continues to prey on the sheep who rely on the protection of good shepherds – the sort who will give their lives for the sheep – the sort you wait for to be pastor in this community. But the time will come when there will be a peace way beyond our understanding and way beyond our imagination when the wolf will lie with the sheep. That’s what God lives for. The time will come when the wolf will live with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the goat, the calf, the lion and the yearling together, and instead of tyrants and empire builders, a little child will be the leader. (Isaiah 11:9) Until that time we follow the call of the good shepherd as he leads us through the valleys and low points overshadowed by wolves and our fear of them.
John 10:11-18
‘I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. The hired hand, who is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away – and the wolf snatches them and scatters them. The hired hand runs away because a hired hand does not care for the sheep. I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father. And I lay down my life for the sheep. I have other sheep who do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd. For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life in order to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it up again. I have received this command from my Father.’
Grits and Grains 