This Sunday, the fourth Sunday in Easter, is sometimes called Good Shepherd Sunday.
This should not surprise anyone, after hearing our sheepish readings today. The 23rd Psalm, for example, takes us right into that pastoral scene: God is our Shepherd, and all of our needs are met. The fields God takes us to are safe enough to provide food and rest, the waters are calm enough to drink from. We’re led where we need to go, and the rod and staff remind us doubly of the protection that God offers to us. Nourishment is so abundant we have the chance to make our enemies our friends, we are offered healing and anointing, and a permanent eternal home, with everyone we have loved, forever more.
It’s no wonder the 23rd psalm is so popular, and so often quoted, and prayed, and really used at time when we’re seeking solace and comfort.
And it all starts off with such simplistic beauty: The Lord is my shepherd.
It’s a great segue then to the Gospel today, where Jesus is anything but subtle. “I am the Good Shepherd” he starts. So the focus moves away from the sheep, and towards the shepherd. The carer. The provider. The one who is in unbreakable relationship with the sheep, to the point of self-sacrifice. The one who gathers us all together, who loves us all, who reminds us that we don’t have to worry about who’s in and who’s out; because He’s got that covered for us. (Spoiler: no one’s out. No one is beyond the love and grace of God.) And, this passage finishes with Jesus reminding us all of the power of God, over all earthly powers – even life. How comforting to hear Jesus use these words, to invite us to consider ourselves as part of the flock, to be the best little lambs we can be as the Good Shepherd looks after us.
Good Shepherd Sunday, indeed.
But if we stop there – and we could! There’s already abundant good news!
But if we stop there, we miss the other good news being offered to us.
And that Good news is shown in the other readings… which are basically a reminder of what it means to be a sheep in a post-Resurrection world.
Because, when we’re honest, life doesn’t always feel like that green pasture and still waters.
Sometimes we can feel the divisions. The tensions. The very humanness of being – well, human.
That’s the reality of the community that’s receiving the Letter from John. It’s written more as an open letter than a personal one; and it is clear that it is written to a community in conflict. These sheep are scattered.
They’re inwardly focused. They’re caring more about themselves than about the rest of the flock.
Gosh, sounds familiar, doesn’t it?
It’s the folks who refuse to quarantine, who share a meal and some COVID before heading home.
It’s the Friday night partiers who gleefully boasted on social media about their fines.
It’s the driver who throws garbage out their car window.
It’s the dirtbag who left their dog’s dirt on the sidewalk.
It’s the… I’ll stop there. Because I don’t need to continue – I suspect each of us could, in our imaginations, pull up an example of one of THOSE people. And we distance ourselves from them, and we dehumanize them, and we arbitrarily judge them... compared to our own perfect selves, of course.
And when we realise that we’ve started to do that, we need to go back to John’s letter.
Because John has written to us: to every Christ follower throughout every age.
And he has written us a very simple reminder – which is summed up in verse 11 (just before today’s passage):
For this is the message you have heard from the beginning, that we should love one another.
Hmm. Yes, we should.
And we want to, and we say we will, and we may even try to… but then there are times when we *don’t* want to love one another. Because we feel justified in *not* loving one another.
Yet, John is clear, as he writes to the church about what it means to be the people of God. In this letter, John offers a classic 3-point sermon. First, reminding the community that God is light. Then, reminding the community that God is just. Then, reminding them that God is love.
And, that as the community of Christians, they are called to live in that love. Not just on days when they gathered in worship, but everyday. At all times.
John suggests that the community perceives the written law as something different from the message of love that their faith commands them to.
And that love, in fact, requires more of them than the law.
It reminds them that they are part of a covenant, and that covenant calls them to be a new community. A new flock. A new group of people that will reach out to one another in love and in faith.
And I think it’s important for us to recognise the power of a covenant… and be reminded why that word should not be used lightly.
Because covenants – in the faith sphere – are more powerful than any earthly agreement. A covenant is not just a legal contract, or a mandate of behaviours. A covenant is holy: it is a formal and solemn pledge, rooted in the biblical concept of covenant. In the Bible, all covenants are started by God, and are shared with all of humanity.
They’re not restricted or restrictive: but call to full life and full expression of ministry.
Expression of faithfulness, of relationship, of permanence.
Covenant: Co, together. Venire, To Go.
Covenir is to go together. Covenant is a shared journey. To the glory of God, in love.
So by covenanting themselves to one another, the community of the faithful is agreeing to look after one another. To make sure that their actions reflect their words. To be consistent in their interactions. To be authentic in their relationships.
The covenant is reminding them of the power of their commitment:
To God, who shepherds them, and to each other, as members of the flock.
To act in love: fully, completely, illogically. Verse 18: “Not in word and speech, but in truth and action.”
Loving, after all, is a verb. It’s an action word. It’s not a noun (just a thing) – it requires faithful and intentional action. Because the LOVE that John’s letter uses is the same LOVE that Jesus uses (there are 4 Greek words that translate as ‘love’ in English). But this one – agape love – that’s the perfect, unconditional love of Jesus.
This is the love we’re called to live into. To live out of. To share, to extend, to receive. God’s perfect, unfailing, eternal love.
The love that is shared with all the flock.
The love that a shepherd has for their sheep.
The love that God has for us.
The love that John reminds us to have for each other.
So this week, as we journey forward, let us aim to journey together. Let us do all we can to journey with God. Let us aim to match what we do with what we say, so that by our love, the world may know the promises of Christ. Let us be the best sheep we can be, for we are entirely in the care of the best shepherd the world has ever known.
It’s no wonder the 23rd psalm is so popular, and so often quoted, and prayed, and really used at time when we’re seeking solace and comfort.
And it all starts off with such simplistic beauty: The Lord is my shepherd.
It’s a great segue then to the Gospel today, where Jesus is anything but subtle. “I am the Good Shepherd” he starts. So the focus moves away from the sheep, and towards the shepherd. The carer. The provider. The one who is in unbreakable relationship with the sheep, to the point of self-sacrifice. The one who gathers us all together, who loves us all, who reminds us that we don’t have to worry about who’s in and who’s out; because He’s got that covered for us. (Spoiler: no one’s out. No one is beyond the love and grace of God.) And, this passage finishes with Jesus reminding us all of the power of God, over all earthly powers – even life. How comforting to hear Jesus use these words, to invite us to consider ourselves as part of the flock, to be the best little lambs we can be as the Good Shepherd looks after us.
Good Shepherd Sunday, indeed.
But if we stop there – and we could! There’s already abundant good news!
But if we stop there, we miss the other good news being offered to us.
And that Good news is shown in the other readings… which are basically a reminder of what it means to be a sheep in a post-Resurrection world.
Because, when we’re honest, life doesn’t always feel like that green pasture and still waters.
Sometimes we can feel the divisions. The tensions. The very humanness of being – well, human.
That’s the reality of the community that’s receiving the Letter from John. It’s written more as an open letter than a personal one; and it is clear that it is written to a community in conflict. These sheep are scattered.
They’re inwardly focused. They’re caring more about themselves than about the rest of the flock.
Gosh, sounds familiar, doesn’t it?
It’s the folks who refuse to quarantine, who share a meal and some COVID before heading home.
It’s the Friday night partiers who gleefully boasted on social media about their fines.
It’s the driver who throws garbage out their car window.
It’s the dirtbag who left their dog’s dirt on the sidewalk.
It’s the… I’ll stop there. Because I don’t need to continue – I suspect each of us could, in our imaginations, pull up an example of one of THOSE people. And we distance ourselves from them, and we dehumanize them, and we arbitrarily judge them... compared to our own perfect selves, of course.
And when we realise that we’ve started to do that, we need to go back to John’s letter.
Because John has written to us: to every Christ follower throughout every age.
And he has written us a very simple reminder – which is summed up in verse 11 (just before today’s passage):
For this is the message you have heard from the beginning, that we should love one another.
Hmm. Yes, we should.
And we want to, and we say we will, and we may even try to… but then there are times when we *don’t* want to love one another. Because we feel justified in *not* loving one another.
Yet, John is clear, as he writes to the church about what it means to be the people of God. In this letter, John offers a classic 3-point sermon. First, reminding the community that God is light. Then, reminding the community that God is just. Then, reminding them that God is love.
And, that as the community of Christians, they are called to live in that love. Not just on days when they gathered in worship, but everyday. At all times.
John suggests that the community perceives the written law as something different from the message of love that their faith commands them to.
And that love, in fact, requires more of them than the law.
It reminds them that they are part of a covenant, and that covenant calls them to be a new community. A new flock. A new group of people that will reach out to one another in love and in faith.
And I think it’s important for us to recognise the power of a covenant… and be reminded why that word should not be used lightly.
Because covenants – in the faith sphere – are more powerful than any earthly agreement. A covenant is not just a legal contract, or a mandate of behaviours. A covenant is holy: it is a formal and solemn pledge, rooted in the biblical concept of covenant. In the Bible, all covenants are started by God, and are shared with all of humanity.
They’re not restricted or restrictive: but call to full life and full expression of ministry.
Expression of faithfulness, of relationship, of permanence.
Covenant: Co, together. Venire, To Go.
Covenir is to go together. Covenant is a shared journey. To the glory of God, in love.
So by covenanting themselves to one another, the community of the faithful is agreeing to look after one another. To make sure that their actions reflect their words. To be consistent in their interactions. To be authentic in their relationships.
The covenant is reminding them of the power of their commitment:
To God, who shepherds them, and to each other, as members of the flock.
To act in love: fully, completely, illogically. Verse 18: “Not in word and speech, but in truth and action.”
Loving, after all, is a verb. It’s an action word. It’s not a noun (just a thing) – it requires faithful and intentional action. Because the LOVE that John’s letter uses is the same LOVE that Jesus uses (there are 4 Greek words that translate as ‘love’ in English). But this one – agape love – that’s the perfect, unconditional love of Jesus.
This is the love we’re called to live into. To live out of. To share, to extend, to receive. God’s perfect, unfailing, eternal love.
The love that is shared with all the flock.
The love that a shepherd has for their sheep.
The love that God has for us.
The love that John reminds us to have for each other.
So this week, as we journey forward, let us aim to journey together. Let us do all we can to journey with God. Let us aim to match what we do with what we say, so that by our love, the world may know the promises of Christ. Let us be the best sheep we can be, for we are entirely in the care of the best shepherd the world has ever known.
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