Mark 6:30-34, 53-56
In Need of a Shepherd
James Sledge July
22, 2018
They had no leisure even to eat. Some of you
may know what it’s like for work to keep you so busy that you must eat at your
desk. Perhaps your harried, over-scheduled life makes you grab something to eat
on the way to school, practice, work, volunteering or whatever.
Jesus’
disciples have just returned, exhausted from their first mission trip without
Jesus, but the demands of the crowd are constant. "Come away to a deserted
place all by yourselves and rest a while," says Jesus. He is
concerned about them. Humans are not designed to keep going all the time. They
need Sabbath, rest, times of silence and stillness.
Jesus’
concern for his disciples causes him to shut down the ministry for a bit.
Unfortunately, the planned retreat gets interrupted. The only alone time they
get is in the boat. When they get to their destination, a crowd is already
there. Jesus is concerned for his disciples, but he is concerned for crowd as
well. They are lost and need help, like sheep without a shepherd to guide and
protect them.
I
wonder if they realize they are lost. Perhaps they are just curious about this
strange new rabbi. Perhaps they are looking for healing for themselves or a
friend or family member. Regardless, Jesus sees that they’re lost and feels
pity, empathy, compassion for them.
Have
you ever thought of God being moved by your plight, compassion welling up in
the divine heart because you are harried, tired, hurting, or lost? Have you
ever thought of God longing to give you rest, Sabbath, or desperately wanting
to give guidance and protection?
That’s
certainly not the picture of God I acquired growing up in the church. God was a
distant figure, impassive, unchanging, static perfection. This God could not be
moved, would not decide on a different course of action out of pity. You see
this picture of God is some understandings of the cross. A perfect, impassive
God ordered the world perfectly and cannot simply pardon humans who refuse to
abide by God’s ways. Punishment is required, demanded. Without someone to take
the punishment for us, we’re all doomed.
Such
pictures of God come more from Greek philosophical notions of perfection than from
Scripture. The Hebrew Bible, the Bible of Jesus and the first Christians, knows
well a God who could rethink plans out of pity or compassion. One of my favorite
prophetic passages is in the book of Hosea. The prophet speaks of God’s anger
at Israel. Despite all God has done for them, they have turned away, and now
they will suffer.
But
then, surprisingly, God’s anger is replaced by a different emotion. “How
can I give you up, Ephraim? How can I hand you over, O Israel? …My heart recoils
within me; my compassion grows warm and tender. I will not execute my fierce
anger; I will not again destroy Ephraim; for I am God and no mortal, the Holy
One in your midst, and I will not come in wrath.”
Perhaps
even more surprising, in the Old Testament book of Jonah, God “repents” of
plans to destroy Nineveh for their wickedness, although most English
translations describe it as a divine change of mind. I suppose it makes translators
queasy to speak of God repenting.
Along
with the Hebrew Bible’s witness to God’s compassion and tenderness, we
Christians have Jesus himself, the one we say is the clearest picture we have
of God. The concept of the Trinity says that to look at Jesus is to look at
God, and Jesus looks very different from the stern, distant, impassive God I
came to know growing up in the church.
But if we are able to recognize the
tender, sympathetic, compassionate nature of God, the God who looks like the
Jesus in our gospel, the God who is concerned that we need rest, Sabbath, the
God takes pity on us because we are lost, are we willing to let God help us? To
put it in the terms of our gospel reading, are we able to admit we need a
shepherd?
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Unlike
us, most people of Jesus’ day were very familiar with sheep and shepherds. Sheep
needed protection from wild animals, and they needed to be moved to different
places in order to find food and water. Middle Easter shepherds typically
didn’t drive sheep from one place to another. They called to them and walked
ahead with a line of sheep behind, a bit like a kindergarten class following
the teacher to the cafeteria.
Because
of this crucial work of guiding and protecting the sheep, ensuring that they
had enough food and water, shepherd became
an important metaphor for kings and other leaders. Kings, priests, government
officials were supposed to care tenderly for the people like shepherds, to face
danger for them and protect them. These shepherds were to reflect the tender,
sympathetic, compassionate nature of God.
There
a faint echoes of this in the original notions of American government. When the
US Constitution was drafted, our second try at establishing a federal
government, the preamble read, “We the People of the United States, in Order
to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility,
provide for the common defence (sic), promote the general Welfare and secure
the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish
this Constitution for the United States of America.”
The
institutions that followed were to function in shepherd-like fashion,
protecting, giving justice to all, ensuring the general welfare, the good of
all. Granted, women and slaves did not yet fully count among those to be cared
for, but the notion of a government that provided safety and benefits for all
was not so different from Israel’s idea of kings as shepherds.
Of
course kings often failed miserably at this. Our own government often seems
less concerned with the general welfare and more focused on the good of those
already at the top. So too the people of Jesus’ day had plenty of people who
should have been shepherds for them. From priests and local officials on up to
Herod and the governor and finally to
the emperor himself, all manner of people were in a position to provide
compassionate protection and care for the sheep. But much of the time, they
were more interested in making sure that they, their interests, their friends
and family did well and prospered.
It’s
an old, old story. The Old Testament prophet Ezekiel speaks God’s disgust with
Israel’s false shepherds. “You eat the fat, you clothe yourselves with
the wool, you slaughter the fatlings, but you do not feed the sheep. You have
not strengthened the weak, you have not healed the sick, you have not bound up
the injured, you have not brought back the strayed, you have not sought the
lost, but with force and harshness you have ruled them.”
The
prophet speaks a day when God will judge false shepherds, as well as the fat
sheep who have “pushed with flank and shoulder and butted out all the weak animals…”
of a day when God will be the shepherd, when one from the house of David will
feed the flock and be their shepherd.
And (Jesus) had compassion for them, because they
were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things.
But
I wonder, did they listen? Do we? “You need to stop, observe Sabbath, be still,
take time for prayer and spiritual reflection,” says Jesus. But our response
is, “We’re too busy, Jesus.” Jesus says to love your neighbor as yourself, to
equate their needs with your own. But we say, “You know Jesus, it’s a cutthroat,
competitive world out there. I’ve got to look out for me and mine first, but if
there’s any left over…” Jesus says, “Love your enemies and pray for those who
persecute you.” But we say,
“Jesus, that’s just crazy.”
And
Jesus looks at us and has compassion for us. He can see that the voices we
listen to are too often not compassionate and caring, the voices of
consumerism, the voices saying you’re not yet good enough, accomplished enough,
impressive enough, beautiful enough. And he tries to teach us many things. If
only we will listen.
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