Year C Easter IV John 10:22-30

It was winter, and Jesus was walking in the temple, in the portico of Solomon.

The temple, a place we may refer to, as we sometimes do to church, as “the house of God”. We also sometimes refer to our bodies, as St. Paul said, as temples, “the temple of the Holy Spirit”. And with that in mind, today’s Gospel begins with an interesting image contrast.

The Jews gathered around Jesus, but they did not see. The Temple had walked among them…all that they had hoped for and waited for had stood before them, healing, and teaching, being and explaining. Messiah was written on His every activity. The wonder of God flowed from Him. They had noticed and they were beginning to understand.

What they understood was that what they had hoped for and the Whom that had stood before them required that everything they thought they knew be set aside for a promise and a vision that had been too long in the coming. Even if this Jesus were right – it was Mystery, and it was dangerous.

The Temple had walked among them. We call it the “fullness of time” but for them it was Roman time, hiding time, doing what it takes to get along time; and don’t make waves time. Jesus’ presence, and Jesus’ demands confused them, frightened them, and most of all angered them. It was the whole of their lives at risk. How could he ask so much?

My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I gave them eternal life.

In the Church, we call this Sunday Good Shepherd Sunday. But, much like the early Jews we are not eager to be sheep. Like the Jews of Jesus’ day, our time tends to be secular time, time for arguing politics, going shopping, worrying, being stressed out. In truth, there are times we find it annoying to be reminded that Jesus calls us to struggle for Him, to do what is loving and kind, to be faithful in ways we sometimes see, not as a blessing, but as a burden. Jesus’ demands confuse us as they come into conflict with our worldly lives. At times, His demands and the struggle and sacrifice they often include can even make us angry. How can He ask so much?

The Lord is my shepherd –

Thanks to images made popular in Victorian times and still depicted in many stained glass windows, many of us hear this and picture Jesus, blue-eyed and smiling, cradling a small lamb in His arms. He is not a rugged shepherd. He is gentle, meek, and mild. This is the Jesus we learned about in our childhood, and though we may not consciously carry that image in our minds today, deep in our hearts it’s the one to which we like to cling.

We want the gentle Jesus, meek and mild. We want the Jesus who smiles and talks to us of love and joy, of kindness and salvation, but omits the part about how we, like Him, may be called to suffer. Why are we not called to be goats? At least they have some character. Why must we be sheep?

Several years ago, this story aired on National Public Radio. Jeff Smith, “Frugal Gourmet,” was traveling through Washington State and was in a remote area when he came across a flock of sheep crossing the road. He stopped his car to wait and soon the shepherd of the flock came by on horseback.

Jeff Smith is an ordained minister and had a question for the shepherd. He asked: “What do you think when you hear the expression `Lamb of God?'”

The answer was more than he could have expected.

The old shepherd told this story. He began: Springtime is a tough time for sheep and shepherds. It is lambing time. It is a time of tragedy. When many ewes are giving birth, the shepherd must often deal with problems. Sometimes a lamb dies at birth, sometime a ewe dies giving birth.

And here is the scene. Over here is a mother sheep who has lost her baby at birth. Over there is a lamb that has lost his mother in the process of being given life. But sheep are difficult animals. A sheep will not take a lamb that is not its own (she can tell by its smell). And so we have the case of a mother sheep full of the milk that will not nourish her baby and no baby to feed. And we have a lamb, hungry for life-giving nourishment and no milk to drink. The ewe will grieve her lost lamb, and soon the motherless baby will starve to death.

It is a scene of abundance and scarcity all at once.

And this is what the good shepherd must do. Now this is going to be a bit graphic but it is the truth. To reconcile this moment of tragedy, the shepherd takes the lamb that has died and slits its throat. Then the good shepherd washes the living lamb in the blood of the lamb who died. Out of death will come life. The lamb who died gives life to the lamb that is motherless, because now the mother sheep will accept this new baby, this baby washed in the blood of her own.

The shepherd then said, “That is what I know about the Lamb of God and the Good Shepherd as well.”

For us who are washed in the blood of the lamb and who are part of the flock of the Good Shepherd, that is all we need to know.

Salvation belongs to our God who is seated on the throne, and to the Lamb!

We, who were separated from God by sin and death, have now been given new life. The Good Shepherd and the Lamb of God are one and the same – the One who saves, Jesus the Christ.

Let us pray:

Almighty and eternal God, so draw our hearts to you, so guide our minds, so fill our imaginations, so control our wills, that we may be wholly yours, utterly dedicated to you; the sheep of Your pasture, and then use us, we pray you, as you will, and always to your glory and the welfare of your people; through our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.