Sermon, April 29, 2007
Fourth Sunday of Easter
Fairmount United Church of Christ
COPYRIGHT 2007 BY
Rev. Michael Poage
Scripture: John 10:22-30
John’s Jesus says, "My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me…." As many of you know I used to raise sheep up in Montana, so Jesus’ words make sense to me in several ways.
Every evening I would go out to the pasture where the sheep had spent the day. I would walk out into the middle of the field and shout with a very loud voice, "Sheep, get on back in here." And usually without fail they would all gradually make their way to the night pens where they would stay safe until the following morning.
For a while I wondered if they could really understand what I was saying -- or was it just my voice that clicked in their little brains? So I experimented. One evening I went out to the pasture to call the sheep in -- but instead of saying, "Sheep, get on back in here!" I decided to say something else. So I shouted, "Flight 28 from Denver will be an hour late!" And all 400 of them gradually turned their heads my way and began walking toward the night area.
The next evening, when it was time to bring them in, I shouted, "Last one in has to do the dishes!" And gradually they all returned to the pens where they would spend the night.
Finally, one evening I took a friend of mine out with me and asked him to bring in my sheep by yelling, "Sheep, get on back in here." And he shouted it out, loud and clear. No response from the sheep -- although a couple of them did seem a little annoyed. He shouted again. And again there was no response.
Then it was my turn. And I yelled out, "All right, which one of you ate all the chocolate-chip cookies?" And they all came trotting back home. (As I am saying this to you, I hope none of my neighbors up there heard me yelling out to my sheep on those strange evenings. I often shouted out similar kinds of interesting phrases depending on the mood I was in at the time.)
The point of all this is to say that the sheep know the voice of the shepherd and they will follow that voice, just as Jesus says.
It seems to me that each of the scripture readings this morning emerge -- or take shape -- out of real crisis situations. Each of the lessons grow out of every tense, life or death, perspectives. In Acts, Paul is speaking in the synagogue, in the midst of some persecution and very difficult times for the followers of Jesus.
And Paul preaches the resurrected Christ: Motioning with his hand, he says: People of Israel, you that fear God, listen! Shima, hear O Israel. He summarizes the history of Israel ending with Jesus and the good news of Jesus raised, by God, from the dead.
And to finish he quotes the 2nd Psalm: "Thou art my Son, today I have begotten you." He is repeating the story of salvation, the work of God in the lives of God’s people.
But there is much skepticism and out-right hostility, disbelief. They do not know the voice of the shepherd -- at least many of them do not -- and the shepherd is not followed.
In Revelation, there is talk of sheep, the Lamb, and the shepherd. "The Lamb will be the shepherd." Christ, the Lamb, will be the one who guides the sheep -- the followers -- to the springs of living water, and God will wipe away every tear.
I was talking to a friend recently about these verses of scripture, about tears and sheep, and I was asked, "Did you ever see a sheep cry?" Thinking about it, I have never seen a sheep cry. But like you, I have seen the tears of many of God’s sheep. Yes, we all can weep, we can shed tears; in fact it is good for both our physical health and our emotional health – to cry. It can be seen as a sign of weakness, an effort to manipulate friends or family, or simply as an embarrassment. But the tears of all of us, the sheep who hear the voice of the shepherd and weep, those tears can be a step toward the healing of wounds.
The writer of Revelation says, God will shelter the sheep with the shepherd’s presence -- and, often, the presence of God can be made known through the presence of tears, and the presence of the One who will wipe away those tears.
In our gospel reading there is reason to cry -- in joy and in sorrow. In joy for those who hear and recognize and follow the voice, for the shepherd has said, "no one shall snatch them out of my hand."
And in sorrow because there are those of us, or even a part of each of us, who can hear the voice of the shepherd and still not understand or follow. Something gets in the way.
And I suspect that is true for all of us at one time or another.
We all get caught up in some unusual responses to what is happening in the world in which we live. Terrorism -- no matter whether it is the terrorism of bombs and gunshots, or the terrorism of hunger and poverty -- is a response to how the world is working. To be out of work, running out of food, savings, and hope, feeling the strain of ones’ children going hungry and your spouse drinking too much (and maybe beating you up)... all of that is terrifying -- and it takes place all around us.
As God’s sheep we respond to the voice of the shepherd in different ways:
Even Jacob limped after wrestling with the angel. But he was given a new name -- "Israel" -- and a new life with God.Perhaps we ignore it, and follow our own ways toward fear, bitterness, and dread.
Perhaps we say, "that voice will only lead me where I do not want to go."
Or maybe we just weep in frustration and confusion, knowing the voice but not understanding how to respond. But still we hear it.
Or perhaps, we hear the voice, and -- not quite understanding the exact wording -- we still follow, because the voice itself is enough evidence for us to continue on our journey.
In the midst of the stresses of our lives, what do we do when we hear the voice of the shepherd? Those of us in the church will need to be keenly alert to what is happening in the next few months and years, for many of us will be facing "terrorism" in many forms, and we must respond with the Love of God as our guide, as our shepherd. Whether it is our response to the fifth year of an immoral war, emotional terrorism, or the brutality of an economic system that can victimize its people into terror, we need to respond even if it’s by asking, "Who, Exactly, Are You?"
The word "crisis" comes from a Chinese word with two meanings: danger and opportunity. Crisis can provide an opportunity for change and for growth. Following the risen Christ presents us with a CRISIS: a point of danger, and an opportunity for change, growth, and new life. But it is still a crisis, with frustration, fear and maybe even -- from time to time -- some tears.
Often, the passage from Revelation for this morning is interpreted to mean that -- in the last times, when the Lamb is ruling from the throne, and the angels are standing around the Lamb praising God, and all seems so secure and just -- that there will be no more tears, no more weeping. That the presence of the kingdom will mean no more emotional battles -- that the sheep will no longer cry.
BUT, that’s not what the writer says. What is written is that God will wipe away every tear -- not that there will be no more tears.
We are in the midst of a crisis, because we are called to follow the risen Christ – the Lamb – asked to hear the voice, and know that we will not be snatched out of the hands of the Shepherd. But how do you want to respond to the voice? Where will the crisis, the danger and the opportunity, of faith in the resurrected Jesus, lead us today? Tomorrow?
As we leave here this morning, let’s leave that question open for now, not ignoring it, but allowing it to search your heart, let it be a blessing and a source of encouragement as we work out together the high cost of discipleship and "who, exactly, are you?"
Amen