Easter 4C
Acts 9:36-43; Psalm 23; Rev. 7:9-17; John 10:22-30

For just a few moments I’d like for you to close your eyes and imagine that you are seated in a chair across from Jesus. The two or you are discussing the week that has passed. What were the good things about the week? What were the difficult or frustrating experiences? Were there times when the two of you felt particularly close? Or, were you two ships passing in the night?
Can you relate at least one particularly incident of the past week in which you were quite surprised to find Jesus present? Were there times that Jesus was present with you, but you turned and walked away? What are Jesus’ words to you? Are they encouraging and complimentary? Comforting? Or, are they judgmental and reprimanding? Perhaps they even seem quite harsh. Jesus is often depicted as a tough disciplinarian. How do you see Jesus in your face-to-face one-on-one conversation?

The setting of our Gospel lesson is the Temple. This conversation between Jesus and “the Jews” is quite heated. Remember that the writer of John is angry and frustrated with his fellow Jews for their lack of belief in Jesus and for their persecution of the followers of Jesus. His anger pervades his writing and we shouldn’t see this as grounds for anti-Semitism. Rather, we use these writings as a mirror to look at our own misconceptions and actions that inhibit the Christian message.

Historically, the Jews see the Temple as the place where God lived. From near and far, they would make pilgrimage to Jerusalem, preferably yearly, to worship and bring their appropriate sacrifice to the Temple. From their time of their sojourn through the wilderness after their exodus from Egypt, God had resided in a tangible place – the Ark of the Covenant – a large box containing the stone tablets of the Ten Commandments, a jar of manna, and Aaron’s rod. The people carried the ark through the wilderness. Many years later when King Solomon constructed the great Temple, the Ark was placed in the Holy of Holies. Finally, God had a house.

But, Jesus’ message is that God does not live in a physical house built of mortar and stone. Jesus’ message is that God’s laws are not in a box, maintained there for the purpose of strict obedience to tangible earthly rules.

Jesus’ message is that God lives in him – Jesus the Messiah – and that his laws are guidance in the ways his people are to live in relationship with one another. This clarity of God’s law – this new interpretation is something that those charged with policing Jewish laws and traditions find it difficult to accept. For some of these religious leaders, God was a god of harsh judgment who needed these leaders to enforce his brutal authority. All faith traditions have leaders such as these, even today. And, too often, we see our selves in relation to God’s harsh judgment rather than unconditional love.

Jesus is asking these leaders – these “religious police” to believe that he, Jesus of Nazareth, and the Father God are one – that God lives in Jesus rather than this earthly Temple. Jesus knew that it was difficult for them to believe.

The imagery of the Good Shepherd would be something to which the inhabitants of this culture could relate. Jesus uses this imagery to emphasize their failure to believe the evidence that had been presented to them throughout his ministry.

This 4th Sunday of Easter is Good Shepherd Sunday. Each year on this Sunday our focus is on the Good Shepherd imagery. On this Good Shepherd Sunday especially, I invite you to take time before you leave today to stand before the Good Shepherd Window that for too much of the time rests in the dark recess of our parish hall. Much unappreciated, the window dates back to the very early years of the history of this parish. Stand there and imagine a face-to-face conversation with Jesus, the Good Shepherd. What variety of emotions do you experience – perhaps a balance of both senses of compassion and discipline.

Stand there and reflect on your relationship with Jesus and the emotions that well up from your connection with that image.

There are numerous bits of symbolism expressed by the Good Shepherd. The imagery of the 23rd Psalm is endless and we could spend hours exploring the symbolism. There is an article from the December 1949 issue of the National Wool Grower that has been reprinted a number of times. The article describes sheepherding in the Holy Land. It takes Psalm 23 line-by-line to connect the imagery of shepherding with the guidance of Jesus, our Good Shepherd.
Among the most fascinating imagery within the article is that of “the valley of death” through which we are to “fear no evil” for the Good Shepherd’s rod and staff comfort us. To help us visualize the profound message of this verse of the psalm, the shepherd describes for us a valley known as the South Defile through which climate and grazing conditions make it is necessary for the herders to move their sheep each season.

“The valley is four and a half miles long. Its sidewalls are over 1500 feet high in places and it is only 10 or 12 feet wide at the bottom. Travel through the valley is dangerous, because its floor, badly eroded by cloudbursts, has deep gullies. Actual footing on solid rock is so narrow in places that a sheep cannot turn around, and it is an unwritten law of shepherds that flocks must go up the valley in the morning hours and down towards the eventide, lest flocks meet in the defile. Mules have not been able to make the trip for centuries, but sheep and goat herders from earliest Old Testament days have maintained a passage for their stock.

“About halfway through the valley the walk crossed from one side to the other at a place where the path is cut in two by an eight-foot gully. One section of the path is about 18 inches higher than the other; the sheep must jump across it. The shepherd stands at this break and coaxes or forces the sheep to make the leap. If the sheep slips and lands in the gully, the shepherd’s staff is brought into play. The old-style crook is encircled around a large sheep’s neck or a small sheep’s chest, and it is lifted to safely. If a more modern narrow crook is used, the sheep is caught about the hoofs and lifted up to the walk.

“Many wild dogs lurk in the shadows of the valley looking for prey. After a band of sheep has entered the defile, the leader may come upon such a dog. Unable to retreat, the leader baas a warning. The shepherd, skilled in throwing his rod, hurls it at the dog and knocks it into the washed-out gully where it is easily killed. Thus the sheep have learned to fear no evil, even in the valley of the shadow of death for their master is there to aid them and protect them from harm.”

This shepherd describes his rod and his staff as implements of protection. What we know as the shepherd’s crook, symbolized by our bishop’s crozier, is known to provide protection as well as discipline. Certainly, the shepherd would use his crook or rod to direct the sheep down the appropriate path, and, as described above to rescue a sheep that had fallen off the path.

The Good Shepherd is a profound symbol of our Lord Jesus Christ – our Lord who comforts us in the valley of death. Our Lord comforts us, not only by protecting us with his staff as he rescues us from dangerous pitfalls, but, also, with his rod, as he directs and judges us – sometimes gently, sometimes more harshly.

Like the Jews gathered around him at the temple, Jesus directs us to believe in him and to observe God’s laws by his example – not as a means for punishment but as guidance in our relationship with one another – believing and guidance received through our intentional efforts to come to know Jesus and make him known – to recognize Jesus in our day to day encounters – to recognize the rod and the staff as the rescuer, the comforter, and the gentle disciplinarian.

So, how is that conversation going between the two of you?