Fourth Sunday of Easter, 22 April 2018
Austwick, Clapham, Keasden
(Opening comments - thanks to everyone for contributions to Thursday’s licensing service; and to the life of the churches through the vacancy…)
So here we are, arriving in the Dales at lambing time. And with this so-familiar passage to preach on as my first offering to you on this my first of many, many Sundays here. Jesus said,
I am the good shepherd. I know my own sheep, and my own know me.... And I lay down my life for the sheep. John 10.14-15
So this is a sermon about what it is like to be a sheep. Because that's what we are.
Now, you might bristle a bit at being called ‘sheep’. Because in the wider world sheep aren't generally very well thought of, although those who spend more time with them, know better. They may look nice and white and fluffy, especially when they are lambs, but people think of them as daft animals, without much sense; passive creatures, without much initiative; flock animals, lacking independence - and none of those qualities are attractive to us.
The gospels bear out these attitudes; Jesus tells his parables of the lost sheep because his audience knows that sheep get lost easily: and so we love his story of the Good Shepherd, who calls together his friends and neighbours to rejoice with him when he finds his sheep that went astray. [Luke 15.6]
When Jesus tells his disciples to go out into the world witnessing to him he calls them sheep, because they understand that sheep are vulnerable:
'I am sending you out like sheep into the midst of wolves; so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves.' [Matthew 10.16 ] - that was one of our readings on Thursday. It’s good advice for us as we seek to be faithful followers of Christ in a sometimes unsympathetic and complicated world.
When Jesus looks at all the people who have come to hear him preach and teach he sees them as sheep, understanding that sheep need to be led:
When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. Matthew 9.36
And in today’s gospel reading Jesus makes clear that he is the missing shepherd in these people’s lives. And… he loves his flock.
Now, there are people who don’t really like the sound a sheep makes. If someone is going on or complaining stupidly, we tell them to stop bleating. But the gospel tells us that Jesus, who calls himself our Good Shepherd, listens to the voice of his sheep.
And our society doesn’t have much regard for people who are sheepish - who are embarrassed or ashamed or who lack self-confidence. People like that tend to get forgotten or ignored. But clearly Jesus, our Good Shepherd, keeps a particular look out for ones such as those.
My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand. John 10.27
I think most farmers would agree that sheep are happy to follow along with the flock most of the time. But they also know that sheep do need a leader.
Flocks have leaders. It’s hard to tell exactly how the leader is elected, appointed, or created. But there will be a leader - maybe an older ewe, unless there is a ram in the flock, and then he is almost always the leader.
Now this confirms what shepherds know - that sheep do, after all, have some sense. Sense enough to flock together for safety, sense enough to follow the smartest or maturest or strongest one among them. And when the shepherd takes the ram away from the flock, and suddenly they are leader-less, different sheep react in different ways, to work out which way they are going.
Sometimes it is the boldest that will take the lead, or maybe the hungriest one that just wants to get to the good grass. Sometimes it is a case of ‘If you go, I'll go’. But generally it is one of the older ewes that looks back and summons the rest to follow as she heads out. [1]
So sheep need a leader. And sheep need a shepherd. And this isn’t a sign of weakness or stupidity. It’s a sign of wisdom and strength.
It's not stupid to want to group together in a big flock. That brings safety and security. It's not stupid to want to be guided by someone. That brings order and stability. What is stupid is getting mixed up in the wrong flock; what is stupid is following the wrong leader. Jesus said:
'Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves. Matthew 7.15
Sheep aren't that stupid. They learn quickly which leader to follow. Not the aggressive dog with the growl; not the shrill shouting youths messing about up on the pasture. They learn quickly the sound of their shepherd's voice, and it is that which directs their way.
My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. John 10.27
We are the sheep of Christ. We flock together here, the rams and the lambs, the bold ones and the old ones, the timid ones and the ones liable to keep going astray. We come here in the spirit of Peter, because like him we recognise that our Shepherd is the one who above all will protect us, guide us, feed us. And so we come with our ears open, keen to listen out for his voice: we want to take his word as the ultimate authority in our lives, not the word of financial advisors or politicians or the family’s matriarch or patriarch, not the word of preachers alone, but the word of Jesus. So here we are, people gathered with our ears and hearts open to the prospect of hearing our master’s voice speaking to us about our common life and witness. What might he be telling us?
Briefly, our shepherd expects us to do just three things: to flock together, to listen to his voice, and to embrace the new sheep he will bring in from outside the fold.
First, our shepherd expects us to flock together: not do our own thing, not be selective about which of our brothers and sisters we associate with, but to give ourselves to fellowship and the building up of the flock, everyone cared for by Christ. Sheep are keenly sociable creatures. They need to be together. For their own security and sense of direction they need to keep a watchful eye on each other. So should we. Liberal and conservative Christians together; native and incoming Christians together; poor and well-off Christians together; straight and gay Christians together. In flocking together our witness is strengthened and our faith grows into maturity.
Second, our shepherd expects us to listen out for his voice: to take his word as the ultimate authority in our lives, the word of Jesus. Expectant that the scriptures will speak new things to us for the new times we’re living in, in becoming prayerful listeners, responsive to his voice, we become bold to live the life of the Kingdom of God in the face of the kingdoms and empires of the world.
And third, our shepherd expects us to embrace the new sheep he will bring in from outside the fold: Jesus tells us,
I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd. John 10.16
When Jesus first spoke this he was preparing his Jewish followers to embrace believers from among the Gentiles. Today it means our being prepared to receive into our fellowship people who are not like us in their background or their approach to faith and worship; so when we flock together we do so with our hearts and arms open to embracing people of other social backgrounds, political views, and religious beliefs, into our fellowship. On Thursday our congregation was a bit like that. And remember what we sang then: ‘All are welcome in this place’.
And what should we expect from our shepherd? Astonishingly, this: that the good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. Jesus makes the ultimate act of self-giving for the good of his flock.
Jesus’ commitment to our well-being is absolute. Jesus’ desire for our flourishing is total. He lays his life down for us out of sheer grace; he takes his life up again out of sheer love. Jesus’s world-changing actions at Easter, his death and resurrection mean that, like a well-tended flock, we need have no fear in life, for he is our security; we need have no fear of death, for he is our eternity. So let us learn from the timeless wisdom of the sheep. Let us encourage one another with these things.
Notes
This was the first sermon I preached in the parishes of Austwick, Clapham and Keasden after my licensing service on 19 April 2018. It is a revision of the sermons On being Sheep preached in Somerset in 2016, Lydford in 2012 and Liverpool in 2007.
[1] Comments from present-day shepherds from www.woollydesigns.com.
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