4th Sunday of
Easter - Year C
John 10:22-30
Learing to Listen for the Shepherd
I am not a shepherd, and I have never tended
sheep. So I really don’t know how, over
time, a shepherd feels toward the sheep.
I don’t know how Jesus feels about the sheep (or potential sheep) with
whom he interacts in today’s Gospel lesson.
I do know that
sheep are not the smartest of domesticated animals. They have hardly any ability to look out for themselves. Unless they are led to green pastures, they
will starve. Unless they are shown still
waters, they will perish. When they get
lost, they lie down and wait for the shepherd to come find them. I wonder whether, over time, a shepherd grows
to be exasperated by this. I wonder if
it is possible, over the long haul, to remain understanding and patient with a
flock whose needs are so great.
I think we uniquely
positioned to understand both sides of the relationship between sheep and
shepherds. It is a bit like our
experience, here in Clemson, at University Lutheran. They don’t baa or need to have their fleece
trimmed each season, but the University students are sort of like sheep. They are perpetually young; doing the things
that young adults do; this flock making the same mistakes as the flocks which
came before. Our church property suffers
from the leftovers of weekends gone wild; and yet the congregation understands
and realizes how essential it is for us to remain in the heart of town. It is tempting, to loose patience. But, so far we haven’t, and let us pray that
we never do. For, while the wanderings
of 20 year olds seem endless, they remind the rest of us that unless there is a
shepherd’s voice we all have the potential to become lost.
Jesus is in
Jerusalem, he is in the temple, when some of those who teeter on the edge of
being lost ask him why he won’t tell them plainly whether he is Messiah. Jesus’ response seems, at first, to express
frustration. His reply is that he has
already told them, but that they won’t believe. He seems to scold them for their inability
to hear. But the tone changes very
quickly and his words become an invitation to leave behind the helplessness
which dominates the lives of all sheep.
He reminds them they don’t have to be able to do all things; they only
need to be able to do one thing. They
don’t have to know it all; they only need to know the sound of the shepherd’s
voice.
“My sheep hear
my voice. I know them, and they follow
me. I give them eternal life, and they
will never perish.”
This may not be
the best advice, as you approach your final week of classes and begin final
exams. Nevertheless, it is the advice I
will give you this morning – forget everything else and concentrate on learning
to recognize and follow that voice.
I realized, in
preparing for this morning, how confusing it is that “sheep” is the same
whether one speaks in the singular or plural.
That is confusing, but it helps to make one of the points toward which I
am driving. A sheep, an individual
sheep, becomes one with the rest of the flock of sheep. It is only when the sheep is in trouble (like
being lost) that it is off on its own.
The rest of the time, it is one sheep among all the other sheep.
This is a
concept which runs afoul of most of what our culture values. We celebrate the rugged individual; we are
congratulated for standing out from the rest; we go to the Career Center in
order to learn how to distinguish ourselves from others. No wonder the Sunday morning message attracts
so few. We stay in bed not because of a
desire for more sleep, but out of the deep seated realization that everything
we have worked toward during the week is being challenged every time we join in
the collective chorus which proclaims: “Our
Father.”
But, it is in
the flock, among the other sheep, that one learns to recognize the voice of the
shepherd. It is in the flock, among the other
sheep, that one develops trust and the ability to follow the shepherd’s
instructions. I used to say that it is
really hard to do this on your own. Of
late, I have started saying that it is practically impossible.
We have started
an LCM Alumni Fan Page. I won’t say that
it has expanded our outreach to alums, but it has provided a forum for interaction
with those who not so long ago were sitting here among us on Sunday
mornings. All too often they share how
difficult it has been for them to find a congregational home when they
depart. While every congregation says it
seeks to include young adults, few have small group events for such folks -
particularly those who are not in a life-long relationship or having babies. Falling away from regular attendance at
Sunday worship is an easy thing to have happen.
It may only be later, when one finds oneself a bit lost, that they
realize what falling away has really cost them.
On their own, it is tough to feel the care and compassion of the
shepherd’s voice.
This
illustration is applicable whether you are 20-something or 50-something. A lone sheep is a lost sheep.
In the flock,
the sheep who have learned the shepherd’s voice, are not always aware of the
impact their ability to recognize and follow has on the newer members. I don’t think the Mama sheep tell their
offspring, “Hear that voice? That is the
one you want to follow.” The youngens
pick up on this, as they observe the mother following. It is in following that one generation passes
on to the next the ability to believe and to trust. So, it isn’t what you say or even what you
teach which matters most – it is what you do.
What we do –
what we need to do – is be very intentional in listening to that voice, and we
need to be more forthcoming in allowing others to see how that voice directs
our lives.
It is another
wonderful coincidence of the lectionary that Easter 4 falls so close to the end
of our academic year. While they may
have the outward appearance of confidence and bravado, the young adults among
us realize they are still a ways away from being all grown up. At last weekend’s Leadership Retreat, the
number one answer to “What is the purpose of LCM,” and “What do you value most
about LCM” was “A church home away from home.”
What young adults need - what many young adults are willing to
acknowledge they need - is the continued presence and support of those who have
gone before. We have said it before but
it bears repeating: the advantage is to
a parish-based campus ministry is the opportunity for college students to
participate in a community where there are eighty year olds, as well as
eighteen year olds. The stages of faith
formation are greatly aided by seeing and interacting with those who have had
decades to learn to listen to the shepherd’s voice.
I do not want to
over-simplify what went wrong in the lives of those two young men who this week
ended up in gun fights on the streets of Boston. But there may be a marker in that the older
brother seems to have had few solid relationships on this side of the ocean. He had been married, but I haven’t heard
anything about in-laws. His uncles and
sister seem to be doing all they can to distance themselves from him. The father who is supportive did not return
to the US with him. Where are the
shepherds in that young man’s life? Somewhere
along the way, it seems he started getting lost. And perhaps his voice began to be misunderstood
by his younger brother as the voice to be listened to and trusted.
It very
important that sheep demonstrate their attention to the voice of the shepherd
and allow the younger sheep to learn by example why it is important to follow.
We are like
sheep. Together, in the community of
faith, we have been lead to the green pastures.
Together, our souls have been revived.
Together, it is possible for us to dwell in the house of the Lord,
forever.
Amen.
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