Sermon; Easter 4A; John 10:1-10

The fourth Sunday of Easter is called Good Shepherd Sunday because we get readings from John depicting Jesus as the Good Shepherd as well as the 23^rd Psalm.

The first half of Chapter 10 in John is the Good Shepherd chapter. One of the reasons Jesus describes himself as a shepherd is because that metaphor is used for God in Hebrew scriptures. Ezekiel, Isaiah, and several psalms portray God as a shepherd caring for the flock. Jesus does the same here, which adds to John's overall agenda that Jesus and the Father are one. The shepherd metaphor makes sense in a society where sheep and shepherds were prevalent. And maybe it makes sense here in Wyoming where sheep and shepherds are part of the history.

Adding to the readings that reference sheep and shepherds, our sequence hymn throughout Easter is, “Savior, like a shepherd lead us.” The blessing I use at the end of Rite Two begins, “The God of peace, who brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus Christ, the great shepherd of the sheep . . .” All of these things, the readings, hymns, and blessing, point to Jesus caring for and protecting his sheep.

With all this talk about sheep, pastures, and shepherds, we might be tempted to be lulled into a sense of safety, security, and complacency. But we really need to take a look at the bigger picture.

First, remember that when looking at biblical passages, context matters. It's unfortunate that the lectionary for today's gospel only covers vv. 1-10.

Part of the problem is that by stopping at v. 10 this passage can lead itself to Christian exceptionalism. People hear, “I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved,” and think that Jesus is the ONLY way to the Father. What that does is to create, possibly, a belief where we install ourselves as the gatekeeper. It then becomes us, not Jesus, who allow entry or keep people out.

A side effect of putting ourselves as the gatekeepers is the very human tendency to allow only those whom we approve to enter, while keeping those whom we dislike or disapprove on the outside.

But if we look at the wider context and expand our reading, we see that this thing about Jesus being the shepherd and gate may not be as comforting as we had originally thought.

Reading on in John we see that Jesus not only proclaims himself as the Good Shepherd, but also says, “I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also.” In his original context Jesus was most likely speaking of Jews and Gentiles. This chapter follows immediately after Jesus gave sight to the blind man (who was driven out of the temple for proclaiming that Jesus was from God) and was talking with the Pharisees connected with that synagogue. So when Jesus says, “I have other sheep,” it most likely refers to Gentiles and those Jews who followed him.

But if we hold that scripture is the living word of God able to speak to people in all times and all places, then this passage also speaks to us today. Those other sheep could easily refer to non-Episcopalians, as much as I hate to admit that, and/or people of other faiths. Maybe even people of no faith.

And if we pull in Psalm 23, things really get uncomfortable. This is probably the most beloved of all the psalms. We hear it at funerals. We hear people recite it in difficult times. The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures and leads me beside still waters. He revives my soul. I shall fear no evil.

But in the middle of all this peaceful assurance is this: You spread a table before me in the presence of those who trouble me. Some translations say, “in the presence of my enemies.”

What does it mean for us that in the midst of this calming, protective, refreshing scenario, God spreads a table for us in the midst of our enemies or those who cause trouble? I don't know exactly what that means, but I do know that, if it were up to me, I'd rather not.

Jesus calling people who don't look like me, think like me, or believe like me to be part of his flock can set me on edge. Add to that the inclusion of those who trouble me at God's banquet and, well . . . this is probably why I'm not God.

Context matters. It's easy to find passages that confirm our biases. It's easy to find passages that condemn those whom we condemn. It's easy to find places in scripture that hold us up as better than others or more deserving than others or as part of God's exclusive group. But that doesn't account for the generosity or inclusive nature of God. We need to be willing to look beyond what comforts us to realize that God also challenges us to see with God's eyes, not just our own. And if that means that we share space with outsiders and eat with troublemakers, so be it.

Because after all, Jesus is the one in charge of who comes in and goes out from the gate. Not us.

Amen.