Several men were in the locker room of a golf club. A cell phone on a bench rang and a man picked
it up, engaged the hands-free speaker function and began to talk. Everyone else in the room
stopped what they were doing to listen to the conversation.
As the man held out the phone and said, "Hello," a woman’s voice replied, “Honey, it's me! Are you
at the club?"
"Yes."
The woman said, "I'm at the mall now and I found this beautiful leather coat. It's only $1,000. Is it OK
with you if I buy it?"
The man replied, "Sure, go ahead if you like it that much."
Then the woman said, "I also stopped by the Mercedes dealership and saw the 2008 models. I saw
one I really liked."
The man said, "How much?"
"$75,000."
He said, "OK, but for that price it needs to have all the options."
She said, "Great! Oh, and one more thing, the house we wanted last year is back on the market.
They're asking $950,000."
The man said "Well, then go ahead and give them an offer, But just offer 900,000."
The happy woman said, "OK. I'll see you later! I love you!"
The man said, "Bye, love you, too," and hung up.
The other men in the locker room stared at him in admiration. Then he gave them all a self-assured
smile and asked, "Anyone know whose phone this is?"
Voice recognition can be a very important thing. If the optimistic woman in this scenario had been
able to recognize that the voice on that cell phone was not her husband’s, I can imagine that a few
little problems might have been avoided. Our reading from John’s Gospel stresses a point very
much like this. Jesus calls himself the Good Shepherd, and says that His sheep hear his voice.
Two things about this passage show just how important Jesus considered this message to be. First,
he uses that formula translated as “Very truly I tell you.” It’s kind of like saying, “These are very
important words! Please turn up your hearing aids!” And second, when the disciples are a bit
unclear on the concept, he repeats himself. He wants his disciples to get this one. There is the
Good Shepherd, then there are those who would interfere with the saving message of the Good
Shepherd. These are the ones Jesus calls thieves and bandits.
In His time the main problem was the Pharisees. But as we’ll see in a couple of minutes, we have
problems in our own time with thieves and bandits, or at least sub-par shepherds.
But first I’d like to say a few more words about the role of shepherds back in Bible times. To fully
appreciate the depth of Jesus’ beautiful metaphor, it’s helpful to take a closer look at life in a
pastoral culture. The stakes for a First Century Palestinian shepherd were high. The shepherd was
held absolutely responsible for any failure to protect the sheep. In fact, in the Old Testament it’s
apparent that if a sheep died, the shepherd was required to bring proof that he’d been unable to
prevent that death. He was expected even to risk his life in defense of the sheep. David, for
instance, battled both a lion and a bear in 1 Samuel to protect his flock. There are still places in
Africa where shepherds are expected to defend their flocks against lions and other predators.
When your livelihood and even life itself is dependent upon successfully guarding your flock,
courage and self-sacrifice are central. And it’s in this context that Jesus makes the claim, “I am the
good shepherd.” In fact, in the next little section of this passage, which we’ll look at next year at this
time, Jesus emphasizes that he lays down his own life for his sheep. On top of this, Jesus uses
another, rather strange metaphor about himself. He’s says he’s the gate for the sheep. In the
ancient Near East shepherds would actually lay across the gate of the sheep pen in order to protect
them from predators.
But by calling himself the gate, Jesus is dealing with something even deeper than protection. He’s
saying that, in order to get into the sheep pen, they need to pass through him. He’s the gate. It’s
not only the image of a protective door but also a passageway. There can be no mistake about
what Jesus is saying here: He’s saying that he’s the mediator of salvation. Those who are to enter
the safety of God’s eternal sheep pen must do so through the person of Jesus himself. Thus he
gives deeper meaning to the first words of this passage: “Anyone who does not enter the sheepfold
by the gate but climbs in by another way is a thief and a bandit.” So whether you’re a sheep or a
shepherd, the only legitimate way into the sheep pen is through himself. A little later he says,
“Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture. The thief comes
only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”
Jesus says that he’s the one who his followers can trust, and he’s the only one through whom they
enter into God’s eternal domain, for which Jesus uses the metaphor of the sheep pen. With this in
mind, I’d like to focus for a couple minutes this morning upon how this plays out in our lives now.
What do Jesus’ words say to us in 21st Century America, and why is it so important that we
recognize His voice? [For that matter, how do we recognize his voice?]
To approach these questions I think it’s necessary first to note that the voice of the shepherd isn’t
speaking into a cultural vacuum. In every period of history and every place on earth, people strain
to hear the voice of Christ amidst a clamor of other voices. In fact we’re literally surrounded by the
voices of our culture. For us in America, these voices speak in the language of materialism,
individualism, and pluralism, just to name a few. By pluralism I mean the idea that has become
dominant in our culture that it’s not right to hold any one view of truth above any other. These
cultural influences are the backdrop for just about everything else around us.
The same was true back in Jesus’ time. Rome was probably the world’s most powerful culture up to
that point in history. They had their own clamor of sounds competing for attention. Things like
loyalty to the emperor, a wide open morality, and like us, a great variety of different spiritual and
religious beliefs. We’ve talked a lot about how Jesus challenged the cultural norms of his time: to
some degree those of the Roman Empire, but to an even greater degree those of the ruling party of
the Jewish faith. It was this challenge that led to the Crucifixion, and therefore made possible the
path for our salvation. “The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.”
When we compare Jesus’ courageous stance with some of what’s happening in the American church
today, the contrast is pretty sobering. Increasingly, we think we’re being relevant by throwing away
some of the things that we’ve always believed. For example our Presiding Bishop recently
counseled us not to get too hung up on the mechanics of the Resurrection, but instead basically to
see the symbolic meaning behind it. I hope we’ve been clear enough in the past few weeks that the
physical Resurrection, flesh, bones and blood, are seen in the scriptures as the very center of our
hope and our faith.
I’m deeply disappointed that a leader in our church would not only say this, but also deny that Jesus
is the unique gate for the sheep. And even more, that she and other bishops would act punitively
toward those who defend the traditional way of viewing our faith—a response we’re seeing more and
more of, unfortunately. And this isn’t just happening in the Episcopal Church, but others as well.
The voices of culture are rising and threatening to drown out the voice of the Shepherd, and I
believe the sheep are being endangered.
But there’s also another, more subtle danger. This danger consists of getting too caught up in
these events. A Navajo friend of mine out in Thoreau once told me that he’d seen coyotes use a
very clever ploy to nab a lamb. They’d travel in pairs, and one would flank the sheep in such a way
that the sheepdog was drawn away to protect the flock from him. The other coyote would remain
hidden until the dog was distracted, then go in and grab the defenseless lamb. It’s certainly a good
thing for us to be aware of the “coyote threats” around us, and to protect the flock. In fact, vigilance
is essential. But it’s possible to become so embroiled, embittered and distracted, that we end of
neglecting the very purpose for which God has gifted us to serve Him. And in comes the other
coyote.
The culture wars will continue. I think we can count on that. There will always be voices that will
compete with the voice of the Shepherd. But if we stay focused on the priority of serving God and
our neighbor as a congregation here in the “northeast 40” I think we’re less likely to be outfoxed by
the spiritual coyotes.
I recently finished what I think is a very important book by the late Lesslie Newbigin, called The
Gospel in a Pluralist Society. In the 1920’s Newbigin entered Cambridge as an agnostic, and after a
challenge to seriously consider the Christian faith he ended up making a commitment to Jesus. He
served as a missionary to India for almost 40 years, where he was compelled to deal firsthand with
the friction between spirituality and culture, ultimately becoming one of the foremost Christian
theologians in the world. In that struggle he gained a profound respect for some of the great world
religions, but he also became increasingly convinced that when Jesus referred to himself as the way,
the truth, and the life, that he meant what he said and he meant it for every human being.
In any case, Newbigin concludes his book with the heartfelt conviction that we do our best work
helping to change the world when we work on a congregational level. He’s not speaking against
denominations or Communions, but simply stating that in God’s kingdom the local level is where
most of the kingdom work gets done. And there are coyotes out there who want to distract us from
doing this.
The point I’d like to conclude with is a practical one. It applies both to the sheepdogs and the
sheep. And that point is this: The unity and safety of the flock depends on its closeness to the
Shepherd. The way to avoid the twin dangers of coyotes directly threatening the flock and coyotes
tricking us into diverting our attention away from other dangers is to stay close to the Shepherd.
Jesus says, “When the Good Shepherd has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the
sheep follow him because they know his voice. They will not follow a stranger, but they will run from
him because they do not know the voice of strangers.”
We need to remain within the Shepherd’s range. We do this by staying in contact with Him through
prayer, Scripture reading, worship, and the other spiritual disciplines so that we can remain in safety
and hear His voice of instruction. For he does not leave us on our own. Being in close proximity to
the Shepherd keeps us within the range of safety. “Even though I walk through the valley of the
shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”
Or, as one prayer from Daily Devotions in the Prayer Book says, “Only in you can we live in safety.”
And when we stay close, the Shepherd gives us guidance and discernment about which battles to
fight and when. It keeps us from being the well-intentioned sheep dog who races off to what might
turn out to be a tragic mistake. My friends, as we get closer to realizing the goal of having a
permanent home base—our shepherd’s station—from which to do our ministry, we can count on
resistance. The enemy doesn’t want to see this succeed. But if we stay close to the Shepherd we
have nothing, nothing to fear. For “the one who is within us is greater than the one who is in the
world.”
Amen.
it up, engaged the hands-free speaker function and began to talk. Everyone else in the room
stopped what they were doing to listen to the conversation.
As the man held out the phone and said, "Hello," a woman’s voice replied, “Honey, it's me! Are you
at the club?"
"Yes."
The woman said, "I'm at the mall now and I found this beautiful leather coat. It's only $1,000. Is it OK
with you if I buy it?"
The man replied, "Sure, go ahead if you like it that much."
Then the woman said, "I also stopped by the Mercedes dealership and saw the 2008 models. I saw
one I really liked."
The man said, "How much?"
"$75,000."
He said, "OK, but for that price it needs to have all the options."
She said, "Great! Oh, and one more thing, the house we wanted last year is back on the market.
They're asking $950,000."
The man said "Well, then go ahead and give them an offer, But just offer 900,000."
The happy woman said, "OK. I'll see you later! I love you!"
The man said, "Bye, love you, too," and hung up.
The other men in the locker room stared at him in admiration. Then he gave them all a self-assured
smile and asked, "Anyone know whose phone this is?"
Voice recognition can be a very important thing. If the optimistic woman in this scenario had been
able to recognize that the voice on that cell phone was not her husband’s, I can imagine that a few
little problems might have been avoided. Our reading from John’s Gospel stresses a point very
much like this. Jesus calls himself the Good Shepherd, and says that His sheep hear his voice.
Two things about this passage show just how important Jesus considered this message to be. First,
he uses that formula translated as “Very truly I tell you.” It’s kind of like saying, “These are very
important words! Please turn up your hearing aids!” And second, when the disciples are a bit
unclear on the concept, he repeats himself. He wants his disciples to get this one. There is the
Good Shepherd, then there are those who would interfere with the saving message of the Good
Shepherd. These are the ones Jesus calls thieves and bandits.
In His time the main problem was the Pharisees. But as we’ll see in a couple of minutes, we have
problems in our own time with thieves and bandits, or at least sub-par shepherds.
But first I’d like to say a few more words about the role of shepherds back in Bible times. To fully
appreciate the depth of Jesus’ beautiful metaphor, it’s helpful to take a closer look at life in a
pastoral culture. The stakes for a First Century Palestinian shepherd were high. The shepherd was
held absolutely responsible for any failure to protect the sheep. In fact, in the Old Testament it’s
apparent that if a sheep died, the shepherd was required to bring proof that he’d been unable to
prevent that death. He was expected even to risk his life in defense of the sheep. David, for
instance, battled both a lion and a bear in 1 Samuel to protect his flock. There are still places in
Africa where shepherds are expected to defend their flocks against lions and other predators.
When your livelihood and even life itself is dependent upon successfully guarding your flock,
courage and self-sacrifice are central. And it’s in this context that Jesus makes the claim, “I am the
good shepherd.” In fact, in the next little section of this passage, which we’ll look at next year at this
time, Jesus emphasizes that he lays down his own life for his sheep. On top of this, Jesus uses
another, rather strange metaphor about himself. He’s says he’s the gate for the sheep. In the
ancient Near East shepherds would actually lay across the gate of the sheep pen in order to protect
them from predators.
But by calling himself the gate, Jesus is dealing with something even deeper than protection. He’s
saying that, in order to get into the sheep pen, they need to pass through him. He’s the gate. It’s
not only the image of a protective door but also a passageway. There can be no mistake about
what Jesus is saying here: He’s saying that he’s the mediator of salvation. Those who are to enter
the safety of God’s eternal sheep pen must do so through the person of Jesus himself. Thus he
gives deeper meaning to the first words of this passage: “Anyone who does not enter the sheepfold
by the gate but climbs in by another way is a thief and a bandit.” So whether you’re a sheep or a
shepherd, the only legitimate way into the sheep pen is through himself. A little later he says,
“Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture. The thief comes
only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”
Jesus says that he’s the one who his followers can trust, and he’s the only one through whom they
enter into God’s eternal domain, for which Jesus uses the metaphor of the sheep pen. With this in
mind, I’d like to focus for a couple minutes this morning upon how this plays out in our lives now.
What do Jesus’ words say to us in 21st Century America, and why is it so important that we
recognize His voice? [For that matter, how do we recognize his voice?]
To approach these questions I think it’s necessary first to note that the voice of the shepherd isn’t
speaking into a cultural vacuum. In every period of history and every place on earth, people strain
to hear the voice of Christ amidst a clamor of other voices. In fact we’re literally surrounded by the
voices of our culture. For us in America, these voices speak in the language of materialism,
individualism, and pluralism, just to name a few. By pluralism I mean the idea that has become
dominant in our culture that it’s not right to hold any one view of truth above any other. These
cultural influences are the backdrop for just about everything else around us.
The same was true back in Jesus’ time. Rome was probably the world’s most powerful culture up to
that point in history. They had their own clamor of sounds competing for attention. Things like
loyalty to the emperor, a wide open morality, and like us, a great variety of different spiritual and
religious beliefs. We’ve talked a lot about how Jesus challenged the cultural norms of his time: to
some degree those of the Roman Empire, but to an even greater degree those of the ruling party of
the Jewish faith. It was this challenge that led to the Crucifixion, and therefore made possible the
path for our salvation. “The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.”
When we compare Jesus’ courageous stance with some of what’s happening in the American church
today, the contrast is pretty sobering. Increasingly, we think we’re being relevant by throwing away
some of the things that we’ve always believed. For example our Presiding Bishop recently
counseled us not to get too hung up on the mechanics of the Resurrection, but instead basically to
see the symbolic meaning behind it. I hope we’ve been clear enough in the past few weeks that the
physical Resurrection, flesh, bones and blood, are seen in the scriptures as the very center of our
hope and our faith.
I’m deeply disappointed that a leader in our church would not only say this, but also deny that Jesus
is the unique gate for the sheep. And even more, that she and other bishops would act punitively
toward those who defend the traditional way of viewing our faith—a response we’re seeing more and
more of, unfortunately. And this isn’t just happening in the Episcopal Church, but others as well.
The voices of culture are rising and threatening to drown out the voice of the Shepherd, and I
believe the sheep are being endangered.
But there’s also another, more subtle danger. This danger consists of getting too caught up in
these events. A Navajo friend of mine out in Thoreau once told me that he’d seen coyotes use a
very clever ploy to nab a lamb. They’d travel in pairs, and one would flank the sheep in such a way
that the sheepdog was drawn away to protect the flock from him. The other coyote would remain
hidden until the dog was distracted, then go in and grab the defenseless lamb. It’s certainly a good
thing for us to be aware of the “coyote threats” around us, and to protect the flock. In fact, vigilance
is essential. But it’s possible to become so embroiled, embittered and distracted, that we end of
neglecting the very purpose for which God has gifted us to serve Him. And in comes the other
coyote.
The culture wars will continue. I think we can count on that. There will always be voices that will
compete with the voice of the Shepherd. But if we stay focused on the priority of serving God and
our neighbor as a congregation here in the “northeast 40” I think we’re less likely to be outfoxed by
the spiritual coyotes.
I recently finished what I think is a very important book by the late Lesslie Newbigin, called The
Gospel in a Pluralist Society. In the 1920’s Newbigin entered Cambridge as an agnostic, and after a
challenge to seriously consider the Christian faith he ended up making a commitment to Jesus. He
served as a missionary to India for almost 40 years, where he was compelled to deal firsthand with
the friction between spirituality and culture, ultimately becoming one of the foremost Christian
theologians in the world. In that struggle he gained a profound respect for some of the great world
religions, but he also became increasingly convinced that when Jesus referred to himself as the way,
the truth, and the life, that he meant what he said and he meant it for every human being.
In any case, Newbigin concludes his book with the heartfelt conviction that we do our best work
helping to change the world when we work on a congregational level. He’s not speaking against
denominations or Communions, but simply stating that in God’s kingdom the local level is where
most of the kingdom work gets done. And there are coyotes out there who want to distract us from
doing this.
The point I’d like to conclude with is a practical one. It applies both to the sheepdogs and the
sheep. And that point is this: The unity and safety of the flock depends on its closeness to the
Shepherd. The way to avoid the twin dangers of coyotes directly threatening the flock and coyotes
tricking us into diverting our attention away from other dangers is to stay close to the Shepherd.
Jesus says, “When the Good Shepherd has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the
sheep follow him because they know his voice. They will not follow a stranger, but they will run from
him because they do not know the voice of strangers.”
We need to remain within the Shepherd’s range. We do this by staying in contact with Him through
prayer, Scripture reading, worship, and the other spiritual disciplines so that we can remain in safety
and hear His voice of instruction. For he does not leave us on our own. Being in close proximity to
the Shepherd keeps us within the range of safety. “Even though I walk through the valley of the
shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”
Or, as one prayer from Daily Devotions in the Prayer Book says, “Only in you can we live in safety.”
And when we stay close, the Shepherd gives us guidance and discernment about which battles to
fight and when. It keeps us from being the well-intentioned sheep dog who races off to what might
turn out to be a tragic mistake. My friends, as we get closer to realizing the goal of having a
permanent home base—our shepherd’s station—from which to do our ministry, we can count on
resistance. The enemy doesn’t want to see this succeed. But if we stay close to the Shepherd we
have nothing, nothing to fear. For “the one who is within us is greater than the one who is in the
world.”
Amen.
The Good Shepherd
John 10: 1-10
John 10: 1-10
April 13, 2008
Fr. Dan Tuton
Fr. Dan Tuton