John 10:22-30
Hearing the
Shepherd
James Sledge May
8, 2022
The Good Shepherd, 5th century mosaic, |
I suspect that there are more than a few people in our day who would like a little clarity, too. Jesus’ identity can be hard to pin down, what with so many variations of him running around. For some Jesus’ primary purpose is to get individuals into heaven. For others Jesus came to inaugurate the kingdom, God’s new commonwealth on earth. For others Jesus is a dispenser of wisdom that can guide you into a meaningful life. For still others Jesus is a worker of miracles for those who have sufficient faith.
Wouldn’t it be nice if Jesus would clear all this up? Wouldn’t it be helpful if Jesus said, “I’m this one but not that one”? Come on Jesus, tell us plainly exactly who you are.
Jesus tell his questioners in our scripture, "I have told you, and you do not believe,” which is a little strange because Jesus has done no such thing. Read John’s gospel carefully up to this point and you won’t find any place where Jesus says, “I’m the Messiah,” I’m guessing that’s why Jesus also says, “The works that I do in my Father's name testify to me.”
Jesus hasn’t said he’s the Messiah in so many words, but the things he is doing should provide all the answer that is needed. Jesus seems to think this is clear and compelling testimony as to his identity, but there is a catch. Apparently this testimony isn’t convincing to everyone, only to those who belong to his sheep. Jesus is actually quite blunt on this. “…but you do not believe, because you do not belong to my sheep.”
This creates something of a conundrum. If you have to be one of Jesus’ sheep in order to believe, how exactly does one become part of Jesus’ flock. This seems to run counter to both traditional, evangelical thinking as well as modern, logical thinking. In both models, people weigh the evidence presented to them and then make a decision. Is the evidence compelling? Does it make sense?
Many years ago, I had a college professor who understood faith in exactly such terms. He and his wife had made a conscious decision not to give their children any sort of religious upbringing. That way, he reasoned, his children would have the chance as adults to consider religion’s claims without any preconceived notions. They could weigh all the evidence and render an informed decision.
But if one sees the evidence differently depending on whether or not they belong to Jesus’ sheep, well you see the problem don’t you. If the evidence is only compelling to those who hear Jesus’ voice and follow, then the whole deciding thing doesn’t seem to work very well.
There is a certain logic to how Jesus lays all this out. Sheep don’t typically decide who their shepherd is. A shepherd gathers a flock. Sheep don’t try out shepherds and decide which one they like the best. Perhaps I’m pressing a metaphor too far, but there is some gospel, some good news in this, good news that is reflected over and over in the Bible.
The beginning of Israel’s story as the people of God opens, not when they examine all the possible gods available and pick Yahweh, but when God chooses Abraham and Sarah. God takes the initiative and forms a covenant people, gathers a flock if you will, as a means of blessing all people. Abraham and Sarah did not choose their shepherd. Their shepherd chose them.
Jesus’ first disciples did not seek him out, listen to a bit of his teachings, and decide that they would follow him. Instead, Jesus found them and called them to follow him. The shepherd gathered his flock which was, by design, small at first. Those first disciples were caught up in the wonders of God’s grace not because they searched for and found it, but because that grace found them.
I realize that this runs counter to a lot of ideas about human agency. We like to think that we are the product of our choices and decisions, although we know that is not entirely true. None of us chose to be born or chose when and where. None of us decided what talents and abilities we would have. So why would it be a bad thing if Jesus chose us for his flock.
But perhaps the biggest objection to this idea of Jesus choosing his flock concerns who doesn’t get chosen. Is God’s grace arbitrary or even capricious? Is God fundamentally unfair or unjust, choosing some and rejecting others on a whim? If, as Presbyterians claim, all are saved by grace, the free gift of God, then does that mean that anyone on the outside looking in was never offered the gift in the first place.
I will warn you that neat and easy answers to such questions all have big holes in them somewhere. There comes a point where we cannot plumb the depths of God. And the witness of scripture insists on a number of seemingly contradictory claims. God is a God of justice, but God also abounds in steadfast love and mercy. God’s power is beyond imagination, creating all things seen and unseen, but God’s greatest display of power is a cross. Not all belong to Jesus’ flock, but God loves the world and desires that all be saved.
It seems that faith requires a certain comfort with ambivalence. As writer Anne Lamott once said, “The opposite of faith is not doubt, but certainty.” Still, I take comfort in the words Jesus spoke just a little before our reading, when he first described himself as the good shepherd. “I have other sheep that 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.” In my faith, I trust that God will somehow work it all out.
In the meantime, I wonder if there is anything we can do to make it more likely that we will hear the voice of the good shepherd, that we will hear his call and follow as part of his flock. I feel confident that one thing is to let go of the notion that knowing Jesus, that faith, is a data-based decision. If you think you can get enough information, enough proof, enough questions answered so that you can decide to have faith, you are bound to stay frustrated.
Faith is not something acquired by addition, by adding enough facts and theology and understanding until it all makes sense. Faith is a letting go, being still and listening for the voice of the shepherd, relinquishing control and opening yourself to God.
There is an exercise people sometimes do using a line from Psalm 46 that reads, Be still and know that I am God. The exercise goes, “Be still and know that I am God.”
“Be still and know.”
“Be still.”
“Be.”
Be still, relax, cease striving. Open yourself to the presence of God and listen. Can you hear the shepherd calling?
No comments:
Post a Comment