John 10:11-18 (NRSV)

“I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. The hired hand, who is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away—and the wolf snatches them and scatters them. The hired hand runs away because a hired hand does not care for the sheep. I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father. And I lay down my life for the sheep. 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. For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life in order to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it up again. I have received this command from my Father.”

My wife and I are privileged to own two vehicles. One is our good car – the one we bought when our first child was born. It safely and comfortably transports the kids around town and is our only option for long road trips.

And then there’s the other car. We try not to ask it to do much more than get me the 11/2 miles to and from church every day. It leaks oil; it has barely an inch of exterior that isn't’ dented, cracked, or missing paint; it has more pieces than I care to admit joined together with plastic zip ties; and seven years ago I put a CD into the car stereo system and to this day it has refused to eject it.

Sometimes life kind of works out like that – you have at least two options, but you only deem one of the options as “good.”

If I say, “Coke or Pepsi,” you know which one you think is good. Same thing if I say, “Democrat or Republican” or “IU or Purdue.” Anyone who grew up with brothers or sisters has probably thought that only one of you was the “good” sibling (or at least felt like one was treated by your parents as the “good” sibling).

In today’s scripture Jesus announces that he is good. Of all the voices pleading for us to follow them, it is Jesus’ voice alone is “good.” As the good shepherd, Jesus promises he will stick around when trouble comes, unite divided groups, die to protect us from the forces of darkness, and guide us in a voice we would recognize.

I believe this is true. I believe that of all the voices vying for my attention, Jesus alone is the good shepherd. I believe that Jesus sticks around when trouble comes. I believe Jesus will united what is divided. I believe Jesus died to protect me from the forces of darkness.

Where I struggle, however, is with Jesus’ promise that the flock will know and follow Jesus’ voice.

How many of us can say with absolute certainty that we hear (and follow) Jesus’ will in our lives? How many of us are confident that when we encounter the next big decision – the next fork in the road – Jesus’ voice will guide us to make the correct decision?

I hope I’m not the only one struggles with this daily!

How do we, as people who desire to be led by Christ, know if we are following the good shepherd as opposed to simply following our own desires, demons, or indigestion?

Reading and wrestling with scripture is certainly one way to hear the voice of Jesus. Another is by worshiping with and committing yourself to a faith community. Also, you can spend time in prayer and meditation, as I know many of you do.

But what about the times when scripture fails to speak to us, when faith communities fail to love and accept us, or when we can’t bring ourselves to pray because we we’re not sure anyone or anything is actually listening? Is there another way to hear the voice of the good shepherd?

Yes!

Another way to hear the voice of the good shepherd is by following the sheep that are already going the right way (to be clear, that’s metaphorical sheep!).

Often I have encounters with people and am struck by the feeling that these are people I ought to follow because they’re on the right path; they are people I could learn from, and they just “get it.” These are people who manage to embody the voice of the good shepherd through their faith, selfless actions, and peaceful presence.

Here’s an example: You remember my car situation – how I have one good car and one bad car? Well, last Friday I learned that one of my brake pads had fallen off the bad car. The mechanic assured me brake pads are very important for a vehicle and told me to leave the car there, although he was unsure if he could get to it that day or the next. I was solo parenting that entire weekend – the good car safely and dependably transporting my wife to Nashville, Tennessee – and I needed my car to transport the kids to/from school and ball games.

I drove back to the church and was weighing my options when a colleague I had just met a couple days earlier arrived for our scheduled lunch meeting. I told him about my predicament. He responded with a gentle chuckle, shook his head and said, “Believe it or not, we just bought a new car this morning. Why don’t you take my van until your car gets repaired?” He then said, “People have been very generous to us and I’d like to help out by helping pay for the car repair.”

It was clear this was no power-play or pity party on his part; and I accepted his generous offer. Later I called my wife with an update on the car and said, “The car’s broke again and in the shop, but don’t worry, I’m borrowing a minivan from someone I just met.”

We ended up spending the afternoon accompanying one another on errands and having holy conversation – an experience made possible because of his selfless generosity and grace.

I tell you that story to testify that the voice of the good shepherd can be heard all around us, often in unexpected places and people. I heard the voice of the good shepherd in one family’s unexpected, abundant, and selfless generosity – generosity made possible because others had been generous to them. I found sheep who were already following the voice of the good shepherd, and I made an effort to follow close behind.

When you look around at the sea of humanity, it’s tempting to think that we’re all just a bunch of stupid sheep who can’t get our act together. However, there is something faithful about seeking out the sheep who are being guided in the right direction and following closely behind.

This is the gift Christians are called and blessed to be in the world: we are called and blessed to bear the presence of Jesus for all people.

I have been privileged to have been led by faithful sheep my whole life. Honestly, it’s the primary reason why I chose to stay in the church and it is why I still believe that there is a good shepherd to follow.

Even when the words of scripture fail to comfort us, when the actions of a community hurt us, when we doubt that prayer is worth the effort, may we be open to the idea that there are people whom God will put in our lives who can teach us, inspire us, and lead us along the path. Only then can we hope to guide others toward the voice of the good shepherd.

And all God’s sheep say, "Baaaaa!"

Luke 24:36b-48

Jesus himself came and stood among them and said to them, “Peace be with you.” They were startled and terrified, and thought that they were seeing a ghost. He said to them, “Why are you frightened, and why do doubts arise in your hearts? Look at my hands and my feet; see that it is I myself. Touch me and see; for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have.”

And when he had said this, he showed them his hands and his feet. While in their joy they were disbelieving and still wondering, he said to them, “Have you anything here to eat?” They gave him a piece of broiled fish, and he took it and ate in their presence.

Then he said to them, “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you – that everything written about me in the law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms must be fulfilled.” Then he opened their minds to understand the scriptures, and said to them, “Thus it is written, that the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things.”

Since Jesus brought up the notion of repentance and forgiveness…I have a confession to make: I have yelled at my kids.

I know none of the rest of you have done this, so I hope you won’t hold it against me. And sometimes, I yell louder than at other times. (My wife, Christa was out of town for a few days and there’s even more yelling, I have to say, when she’s not around.) Again, I know this probably hasn’t happened with most of you – and maybe it’s hard to imagine, coming from your Pastor – but it’s a true story. And sometimes, what comes out of my mouth – the volume, not the words – in moments of utter frustration and anger, surprises even me. And it can be sad and embarrassing and regrettable. And it’s always something I wish I could undo, just as soon as it’s been done.

And it happened earlier this week – Monday, to be exact – in particularly rare form, hence the confession. I’ll spare you the details, but suffice it to say it started as an argument over homework, just before bedtime, that escalated to that boiling point when I let all sorts of frustration and anger and rage, even, get the best of me. Again, there was nothing wrong with the words that I said – I’ve, so far, managed control over that – but it was the sheer volume that surprised me and that genuinely scared Max, my 7-year-old, in a way I hadn’t done before. Again, it was sad, embarrassing, regrettable – shameful, even, to be honest. When I saw the look on his face as I yelled, I immediately wondered how, when, or if, I could repent or repair or convince him to forgive me anytime soon.

Things eventually calmed down and everyone went to bed, peaceably enough. I made my apology. We said “good night” and “I love you,” even, but I couldn’t help wonder, still, if I’d gone too far. Of course, there’s more to this story, and I’ll get back to it in a minute.

First, though, I want to remember this post-resurrection Jesus-sighting we heard about from Luke’s Gospel. Before the part of the story we just heard, Jesus had appeared and walked with a couple of his followers on the road to Emmaus. Once they realized who he was and that he was alive, they rushed back to Jerusalem to tell the rest of the crew. And it’s in the midst of whatever confusion and surprise came along with their story, that Jesus showed up, again, to the rest of the group, saying simply, “Peace be with you.”

And even though he’s standing right there in the room, apparently interrupting a fish dinner, they’re filled with fear and trembling and joy, but still disbelieving and still wondering what in the world their eyes were telling them.

So Jesus does just what we heard he did last week for “Doubting Thomas.” He shows them his hands and his feet – revealing the wounds he suffered from his crucifixion. And then he invites them to touch him, to put their hands onto his flesh so they could be sure he was no ghost. And then, for the icing on the cake, he asks for a piece of fish to eat. “A ghost doesn’t have flesh and bones, as you see that I have,” he says. And presumably, a ghost wouldn’t need or be able to take and eat, chew and swallow a piece of fish from the dining room table. So Jesus has made his case. He’s proven his point. He has made it up from the dead and out of the tomb. Alleluia!

Now, and here’s my point for today, I don’t think it’s a small thing that all of this touching and seeing and eating between Jesus and his disciples, after his resurrection, happened alongside the rest of their conversation about repentance and forgiveness of sins being proclaimed in his name. I think one informs the other in meaningful, holy ways.

See, the disciples needed to know that Jesus was raised…for real. They needed to see that he was living, moving, breathing and eating…for real. They needed to be sure this was not just some ghost or vision or hallucination they were having after eating some bad fish. So Jesus gives them what they need, not just with words, not even just by showing up and eating in their presence. Jesus gives them what they need by letting them reach out and touch what was so hard for their hearts and minds to grasp.

And I think Jesus does that because he knows that’s what the world needs, too. And I think Jesus does all of this and then talks about the disciples being witnesses to the repentance and forgiveness of sins, because Jesus wanted them – and God wants us, still – to be that kind of witness: flesh and blood witnesses to repentance and forgiveness for the sake of the world.

Have you ever needed or offered that kind of proof? Have you ever offered or received forgiveness and then sealed the deal with a hug or a kiss or a handshake – hand to hand, flesh to flesh, heart to heart? That kind of forgiveness matters more than words, doesn’t it? When it’s sealed with a handshake? A hug? A kiss, even?

I didn’t know it at the time, but I needed that kind of forgiveness Monday night, after all of my guilt over yelling like I did before bedtime. No matter how peaceably we left things before we said “good night”; no matter even that I had apologized and Max had told me he understood; I was left “disbelieving and still wondering” – just like Jesus’ disciples – how/if he could mean it. And I didn’t know it – I didn’t believe it – until very early the next morning, long before my alarm was set to go off; long before the sun was up; when I heard Max’s little footsteps in my room and when I felt the mattress move beneath me and when I felt his little body curled up against mine.

That was forgiveness I could touch. That was forgiveness I could feel. That was an unmistakable peace offering that said more than words could describe – no matter if my son was 7 or 70 years old.

Sometimes what we can say with words or see with our eyes, even – like we talked last week – just doesn’t cut the mustard. Sometimes we need to touch and feel and experience the presence of God’s love and mercy and forgiveness and grace – with our hands, bodily – in order to feel it with our hearts or to believe it with our minds.

That’s what I think Jesus was up to when he showed up to his disciples and when he invited them to touch and to feel their forgiveness, in the flesh. It’s what God is up to every time we eat and drink the flesh and blood presence of our forgiveness in the bread and wine of Holy Communion. And I believe it’s what he calls us to, still, as witnesses to his grace. We are to share... We are to reveal… We are to be the kind of forgiveness we can’t always describe with words, but that can only be shared in the flesh, for the sake of the world.

Amen

"The Good Shepherd and the Good Sheep" – John 10:11-18

"True Confessions, Real Forgiveness" – Luke 24:36b-48