Sermon – Sunday 29 April, 2012/The Rev. Richard C. Marsden

I am the good shepherd.

In the gospel we hear Jesus identify himself by that term: A good shepherd.
He is addressing a mixed group of folks, some for him and some against him, some just trying to figure out just who he is.
And he describes himself to them in this encounter in terms of a unique relationship. He is a shepherd, a good shepherd, one whose life is completely devoted, laid down for his sheep.

But, who are his sheep in this mixed crowd of listeners: Those who would follow him, who know and listen to his voice. It seems that his sheep are those that follow him, and no-one else. They become his sheep by following him.

Yet, sheep don’t use a democratic process to pick their shepherd. The shepherd picks them and they are bought; a price is paid for them, then they become his.

Now most of us don’t know much about sheep, nor shepherds for that matter but some years ago, Gail and I were traveling in Ireland. And we found that in the west and north-west of the Republic sheep were literally everywhere, on the hill sides, on the roads.

And they looked anything but white and fluffy. They reminded me of the outside of a New York subway car. They were all dirty and marked with what looked like painted-on graffiti. Each animal carried a colored symbol or marks that identified it as belonging to one shepherd or another.

Then we had the opportunity to stay at a sheep farmer’s home for a couple of days. And in talking to him you realize that sheep are not the most self-sufficient, nor are they the smartest critter that God ever created. When Jesus refers to people as sheep, it’s not really a compliment.

This farmer told us that sheep farming is the hardest farming one can do because sheep are so defenseless and needy. They are susceptible to a host of diseases and parasites. You have to watch them constantly because their very natures put them at risk.

They can walk into deep water to drink and drown. They can eat too much and lie down and can’t get up. Sounds like some people I know late on Super Bowl Sunday.

The farmer called this condition being cast down or downcast. When in this utterly helpless condition, they can become prey to any animal: Dogs, house cats even, birds which will peck at them until they die.

He mentioned how he always looked into the sky and if he saw birds circling he would run out into the fields because he knew one of his sheep was cast down. He talked a lot about how absolutely needy these simple animals are, how they just cannot get by without constant care because they are so vulnerable – in danger from other animals and because of the habits of their own nature, a danger to themselves.

Jesus says that we are like sheep. We are needy creatures. We are in danger from threats around us, and we are dangerous to ourselves; because of our own fallen human nature we are blind to our own vulnerability.

We are very much like sheep. Many of us have habits that ultimately cast us down – put us in situations where our lives, physically and spiritually, are put in jeopardy. How many of us eat too much, drink too much?

How many of us have habits or behaviors that have resulted in negative consequences in our lives and we just don’t recognize them, or we recognize them and just can’t seem to change?

How many of us have been cast down by events we experience: the death of a loved one, the death of a marriage or a valued friendship; a serious illness that afflicts us or a loved one?

How many of us have been downcast by dramatic losses in our financial security, or have had to go through the painful experience of losing a job?

How many of us are cast down because life in this fallen world is just too busy, too complex; you just can’t do all you feel you are expected to do? We get overwhelmed, depressed, frustrated.

Life is full of times where we can be downcast – overwhelmed by the experience of being merely human in this complex world, undermined and destabilized by habits of our own sinfulness: Our own human nature, wanting to quit, tempted to assuage our loss and pain with alcohol, illicit drugs or relationships, or a host of other behaviors that are eventually destructive of ourselves or others.

It is at those times we need to be reminded that we have a good shepherd. All too often we think we can deal with life ourselves, or we turn to other sheep and expect them to do what only the shepherd can do.

I think all of us forget the uniqueness of this special relationship that we as disciples have with Jesus our Lord.

Battered as we all are by the things of this mortal life, we tend to forget that Jesus has given us this unique relationship, a relationship that he defines and presents to us as a gift in our decision to follow him, in our decision to trust him as Lord and Savior, to accept that we are sheep, as humbling as that may be, and to accept that he has bought us, paid for his sheep with his very life.

It is the relationship that is authenticated, guaranteed to us through the grace of our baptism, marking us as his forever. And that should change everything about how we live; if we just remember.

We have a shepherd, a good shepherd, a good shepherd who knows his sheep. He knows you and me, all our weaknesses and vulnerabilities, loves and cares for us. We need to be assured of that.

The sheep farmer told us how his sheep recognize his voice and his presence. They can be bleating and carrying on, and when he comes into their presence they go quietly back to grazing. His presence brings them security and peace; they know that all will be well. Do we experience that kind of security knowing the presence of Jesus in our lives, do we know and listen to his voice and find comfort in that?

King David, a shepherd himself in his youth, draws on his experiences (as he reflects on God’s loving relationship with him through his trials, failures, and successes in life) in composing the 23rd psalm. And it has become one of the most familiar and cherished and encouraging psalms to all believers. I remember my grandma Hilda reciting it to me as a child: the Lord is my shepherd…..

That is David’s stated foundation in life that the Lord is my shepherd; his life is completely in the hands of God. All his needs: For health, provision, all his security and protection from enemies including the threat of death, his need for love, for guidance in life, correction and discipline, all his hope for this life and the next he finds in God, his good shepherd, trusting him completely.

Doesn’t it describe the life of faith that we should aspire to, a life of complete trust in Jesus to be all that we need?

Can we take a moment together now and make that psalm our prayer?

Let us say this psalm together slowly line by line, listening to the shepherd’s voice hearing the promises the shepherd has made to each of us to be our provision, to be our guide through life and death, to be our comfort and our security, and the one on whom we can always depend.
Let us pray this together, slowly. Let it be an affirmation of our trust in Jesus. Let us hear what he might say to us:

Psalm 23:1–6 (RSV)
1 The Lord is my shepherd,
I shall not be in want;

2 he makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters;

3 he revives my soul.
And guides me along right pathways for his name’s sake.

4 Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil;

for you are with me;

your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.

5 You spread a table before me in the presence of those who trouble me;
you have anointed my head with oil,
my cup overflows.

6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
all the days of my life;
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord
for ever.

Let us take this relationship into our hearts and minds and souls and incorporate it into our lives.

Let us be reminded that we have a shepherd who has laid down his life that we sheep might live in security and hope, without fear; shepherd whose cross is both rod and staff guaranteeing our eternal protection and guiding us always in the way to walk.

When we come to communion this morning, as we come before this table set before us this morning, and maybe for some today, in the midst of things which do trouble us, remember it is a table which reminds us what our shepherd has accomplished for us; that he has laid down his life for us, that he has purchased us, and marked us as his own forever.

Receiving his body and blood at this table reminds us that Jesus is indeed the good shepherd, and it allows us to proclaim with confidence that the Lord is my shepherd. And it empowers us to live our lives secure in his loving care and protection.