Sermon: Trusting the Shepherd

 John 10:11-18
Trusting the Shepherd
James Sledge                                                                                                 April 29, 2012

 When I was in seminary, I had the opportunity to take a three-week long trip to the Middle East and Greece. There were students from number of seminaries, and we spent a good deal of time on charter buses.

One day we were traveling through some rather hilly country in the West Bank of Israel, and I was sitting by the window seeing what there was to see. I looked down into a small valley below the bus, and I noticed a young, Palestinian boy who was maybe ten or twelve years old. He was walking along a little path and right behind him, in a single file line, were a handful of sheep. I watched him for as long as I could still see him as he descended into the valley, that line of sheep right behind. It looked a little like a teacher leading a single-file line of kindergarteners to the cafeteria.

I later learned that this was typical in the area. Often a family’s flock would number less than a dozen, and it was not unusual for a child to have charge of the flock. When they would head out from the house in the morning to find pasture, that child would call to the sheep, and they would follow along behind, knowing that their young shepherd would lead them to food.

“I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me.”

Many years ago, at the church I served in Ohio, we were holding the weekly staff meeting. As was our custom, we spent some time talking about the scripture reading for the coming Sunday, the same reading we heard today. When I finished reading the passage, our parish associate pastor said, “Sheep like to go their own way.”

Bob was a retired pastor who worked for us several hours a week, mostly helping with pastoral care. It turned out that when he had first started in ministry, he served a church in Montana, a congregation with a number of sheep farmers. They were the ones who had told him, “Sheep like to go their own way. They have to be watched carefully.”

“I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me.”

The sheep I saw from the charter bus window clearly knew the boy who was leading them, but if sheep like to go their own way, I assume that they sometimes get out of line. I suppose that the boy leading them needed to look back every so often to see if there is a straggler, to see if one has taken off in its own search for some tasty grass.

I imagine kindergarteners sometimes like to go their own way. I doubt that any teacher worth their salt would simply call out, “Okay, let’s go to the cafeteria,” then walk on ahead, without ever looking back again.

“I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me.”

I say that Jesus is my shepherd, the one whom I follow. But at the same time, I like to go my own way. I can be quite stubborn about it. There have been too many times when I headed down a path that was not a good one, and people tried to point that out to me. But very often, I forged on ahead, compounding my original decision to go the wrong way.

At times I can seem to be my own worst enemy. Perhaps that is a bigger problem for me than for some of you, but I suspect that most of us have occasional gone our own way with less than stellar results. Most humans seem to have the capacity to be self-destructive, to damage relationships that we cherish, to act is ways that we know are not the best, but somehow, the lure of our own way keeps pulling us along.

“I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me.”

All those years ago at the Ohio church staff meeting, it didn’t occur to me that I should have asked Bob, our parish associate, a question about his statement, “Sheep like to go their own way.” I should have asked what sort of sheep herding the ranchers in his church used. It’s too late to ask now, but I feel fairly confident that those Montana sheep farms looked nothing like what I saw in the Middle East.

Likely these farms had large flocks that they would drive from one pasture to another. Perhaps the rancher road on horseback or maybe on a four wheeler. Likely there were sheep dogs who helped out. These large flocks didn’t follow after a shepherd they had grown to know and trust. They were prodded, pushed, herded in directions that they often did not want to go.

“I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me.”

It strikes me that a lot of religion looks more like Montana sheep herding than it does what I saw from that charter bus window. We pastors may be largely responsible for that. No malice in involved. Pastors are trying to convince, to urge people to do things that don’t come easily or naturally. Love your enemies. Pray for those you hate you. Let go of wealth. Let go of your own life even.

But it’s not much of a move from urging and convincing to pushing, and pastors, with the best of intentions, end up pushing people to be more faithful, to be more generous, to support the ministries of the church, to be more counter-cultural, to do the work of justice and social righteousness, to prayerfully listen for Christ’s call, and so on.

Jesus says to do all these things, and pastors very often quote Jesus when we are urging and convincing and pushing. But I suspect that more often than not it feels little like being beckoned to follow. It feels like an attempt to herd, to drive a congregation in a direction. It may even have worked at one time, back when pastors were held in high esteem and considered voices of authority. But that was a long time ago.

 “I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me.”

In John’s gospel, the term “know” is a thick word, filled with meaning. It can mean to know or be acquainted with. It can also mean to realize or understand. But here it means more than that. It speaks of intimacy and trust. Being known by Jesus and knowing Jesus are much like Jesus’ relationship with the Father.

“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.”

Jesus’ sheep follow him down difficult paths, in the hard work of discipleship that loves enemies, prays for those who hate them, lets go of wealth and even of self because they know him deeply and intimately, just as the Father knows Jesus and Jesus knows the Father. There is a comfort, a trust, an assurance than comes from this deep knowing that allows Jesus’ sheep to go where they would never have gone on their own.

“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.”

But this sort of deep knowing does not come quickly or easily. Like other intimate relationships, it takes a desire to know Jesus more deeply. It takes time spent together learning to trust Jesus. And the primary ways for learning to know and trust Jesus deeply are scripture and prayer. There is no shortcut. There is no quick fix. There is no magic formula. You must spend the time. You must get to know him, let him become your companion, learn to trust him, and finally know him as your shepherd.

“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.”

Jesus already knows you. He is just waiting for you to get to know him, to trust him, so that he may guide you in the way of life in all its fullness.