“If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly.”
John 10:24

Tell us plainly. Did Jesus ever speak “plainly?” St. Mark said Jesus never said anything in public other than in parables. Jesus used symbolic imagery to reveal his truth. Faith is like poetry, or art, or music. It is couched in symbols rather than a concrete, purely rational language. St. John, in his gospel, seeks to answer the question, “Who is Jesus?”, not with direct, rational statements, but with images which Jesus used for himself. According to John when Jesus sought to describe the truth about himself he used images such as bread: “I am the bread of life”; light: “I am the light of the world”’ door: “I am the door”’ shepherd: “I am the good shepherd.” I am. “I am resurrection”; “I am life”; “I am the way”; “I am the truth”; “I am the vine”. The great I AM is enfleshed in the man Jesus.

These are wonderful, highly symbolic images by which Jesus described himself. They are words which produce pictures in our minds, that point to the truth about Jesus in ways that purely factual language never will. Ways of seeing Jesus which suggest, which hint, which fire our imaginations, which give us new insights over and over again; which allow us to relate to him, and him to us, where we live, where we are, here and now, ever relevant.

Of all the images we have of Jesus perhaps the most popular is that which is presented to us on this Fourth Sunday of Easter, that of the Good Shepherd. While it is the most popular, it may well be the most irrelevant. After all, what do we in the 21st century know about sheep? As for me: wool sweaters and lamb chops. That’s about it!

When we think of the shepherd image most of us will see the meaning as caring, nurturing, giving, protecting. And that’s all good and true. But I’m afraid we have a tendency to over-sentimentalize that picture. We just may succumb to a case of the “warm fuzzies” instead of the harsh reality to which the shepherd image really points. For example, look at the stained glass window over the altar. The sheep look adoringly look up at the shepherd. He holds a lamb in his arm. A variation on that picture has the Good Shepherd with a lamb draped over his shoulders as it is being brought back to the flock, the one lost sheep being returned to the 99. That’s the image I want to cling to. And I don’t want to destroy that comforting picture for you. But I once read that a common practice of the 1st century shepherd when he had a recalcitrant lamb, one that just wouldn’t stay with the flock, was to break its legs and carry the lamb till the legs healed. That way the lamb was taught to stay close to the shepherd. That’s a harsh picture, isn’t it? Not very comforting.

When we think of the shepherd we tend to think of little lambs instead of tough old rams. Shepherds had to be tough. These were not soft, sweet, mild people. They had a task: to protect and move the flock from one safe pasture to another. They could not allow the flock to just wander wherever it wanted.

I was reminded of this in reading of another parish’s plans to find a new rector. The article said they would be doing a survey to discover “the will of the parish”. I happen to think that a survey should be designed to discover the nature and characteristics of a congregation, not it’s “will”. They best be discerning the will of God for that parish. They might just be praying to discover where the Good Shepherd is leading that flock.

The shepherd in 1st century Israel didn’t walk behind the sheep, he led them. He went before them, checking out possible dangers, and then called the sheep to follow. He would not let them get into trouble. The rod and the staff was not only used to protect the sheep from wild animals, it was also used to beat the sheep, to push them, to goad them. The crook in the shepherd’s staff fit neatly around the sheep’s neck to pull it to safety.

Shepherd’s love is tough love. It means saying “no”, out of love, to someone who needs to hear “no”. It is the ability to discern what is best and give direction. It is a willingness to run the risk of being disliked. For example, shepherd’s love is what it takes to confront an alcoholic or a cocaine addict with his or her illness; to tell him that he is destroying his life, instead of ignoring the illness and pretending it doesn’t exist. This kind of love is what good parents do. How often we see children floundering because parents are either ignorant or unwilling to show them right from wrong; or are afraid their children won’t like them. Children need parents, not pals. Now, I’m certainly not advocating abusive behavior in parents, there’s too much of that, but I’m saying children need a firm direction which provides a sense of security.

Shepherding love is tough. It is gentle. It is firm. It is consistent. It has purpose. It is rooted in a concern for the best interests of the other, which I believe is the real definition of love.

Obviously it is no coincidence that the imagery of the shepherd is appropriate for the church. The word pastor means shepherd. The community of faith is not just a voluntary association of like-minded people. The church is not some kind of ecclesiastical country club. Unfortunately, all too often that is what we’ve allowed it to become. Rather, it is called by God for his purposes, for his mission, for his ministry: to be a force for good in the world.

If the church is truly being the church, then it will be exercising shepherd’s love. And we, who seek to follow the Good Shepherd, should be prepared for the consequences. The rod and the staff will be a comfort, and a goad. The cup which overflows will be Christ’s cup of blessing, as well as the cup of suffering. For by following the Shepherd we will call into question the values about us which draw us from the love of God and of one another. It is the love of Christ which enables us to place a higher priority on persons rather than things; on peace rather than war; and challenges injustice when we encounter it. That’s the nature of shepherd’s love. And whether we like it or not, that’s what we’ve signed up for by being baptized.

You and I are called to be pastors, shepherds. It’s not about who’s ordained or not, whether or not you have turned your collar around backwards. We’re all pastors to one another. As a friend you are called to be shepherd to your friends. As parent you are pastor to your child. You, Christian, are shepherd to the hungry, the friendless, the homeless, the desperate.

We can be pastors, we can be shepherds because we know the Good Shepherd. We know the kind of love he has for us. We know that he will seek us, find us, discipline us, strengthen us, and guard us from harm. We know just how fare he’ll go for us, his sheep: to the grave itself, to do battle with the enemy, and rise victorious. Amen.