John 10:11-18

“I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. The hired hand, who is not the good shepherd and does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and runs away – and the wolf snatches and scatters them. The hired hand runs away because the hired hand does not care about 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. I lay down my life for the sheep. There are other sheep who are not part of this fold. I must bring them along also and they will listen to my voice. So that there will be one flock, one shepherd.

“For this reason the Father loves me, because I am willing to lay down my life and take it up again. No one takes it from me. I lay it down of my own accord. I have the power to lay it down and I have the power to take it up again. I have received this command from my father.”

In addition to it being the Fourth Sunday of Easter, today is also, often called, in many places “Good Shepherd Sunday,” where churches all over the world hear some bit of this portion of John’s Gospel where Jesus waxes poetic about his identity as “the Good Shepherd.”

It’s a popular image, I suspect most of us have seen or heard of before: Jesus, with livestock draped over his shoulders. There are paintings and stained glass windows showing as much. There are a few “Good Shepherd” and “Our Shepherd” Lutheran Churches right here in Indianapolis. I was baptized at a Good Shepherd Lutheran Church, in Vickery, Ohio. But I often struggle with what to say about it – or what new thing to say about it – I guess. On one hand it seems like such an obvious cliché. On the other hand, I’ve never met a shepherd, so…

So, today might seem like a stretch. It’s not the first time you’ve heard that from me, and it won’t be the last, but I found myself wondering about “the hired hand” that Jesus mentions in this morning’s Gospel, this time around, as a way of wondering differently about “the Good Shepherd,” too.

Well, here’s “the stretch.” Jesus’ mention of how “the hired hand” doesn’t know or care about the sheep…? How the “hired hand” sees the wolf coming and runs away – leaving the sheep to be snatched and scattered because the “hired hand” doesn’t care about the sheep, in the same way the Good Shepherd does…?

All of that reminded me of George Costanza. (I told you it was a stretch, but after last week – with Jeannie’s fall and all of my waterworks about my Father-in-Law – I thought we could use a laugh this morning, so I’m going with it.) Jesus’ talk about the “hired hand” made me think of this ridiculous bit of Seinfeld, where George Costanza is at a child’s birthday party.

In the show, George smells fire, sees smoke in the kitchen, and runs out of the party, knocking over a clown, and elderly woman with a walker, and pushes several children out of his way, trying to get to door and escape to safety. He gets accosted by the clown, the party’s host, and emergency workers afterward where he tries, shamefully, to explain himself.

“The hired hand, who is not the good shepherd … sees the wolf coming and runs away…” “The hired hand runs away because the hired hand does not care about the sheep.” Okay. Funny stuff aside.

Part of what Jesus is saying – and had been trying to prove throughout his ministry – is that the world was and is filled with too many “George Costanzas.” I mean, too many “hired hands.” There were and are, it seems to me, too many pretending to share grace, to do God’s bidding, to be Messiah, Savior, GOD … but too many who can’t… who won’t… who don’t… none who could ever measure up to the fullness of love we know in Jesus, the one and only, real, Good Shepherd – which Good Friday’s cross and Easter’s empty tomb prove to be true. The Good Shepherd lays down his life, of his own accord, and takes it back up again, at the Father’s command – all to bring the whole wide world into the flock.

And it’s always helpful to notice where we are in the Bible (John, Chapter 10, remember) in relation to where we are in the church calendar on a day like today. I mean, we’re a few weeks after the resurrection – on the other side of that empty tomb – with the cross and crucifixion in the review mirror and the good news of Easter, hopefully, still ringing in our ears. But today’s Gospel reading takes us back a bit in the life and times of Jesus, just about halfway through John’s version of the story.

When Jesus was talking about the Good Shepherd, he was in the thick of things, but hadn’t made it to Calvary and the cross, just yet. At this point he was still pointing ahead to all of that, and the resurrection was just a pipe dream. Nevertheless, he had been busy…

He’d reluctantly turned water into wine at that wedding in Cana. He’d met secretly with Nicodemus and tried to answer all kinds of questions and curiosities about his status as the Son of Man, sent to save, not condemn, the world. He’d been baptizing like crazy, even more prolifically than John the Baptist, and attracted the suspicious attention of the Pharisees because of it. He’d had that conversation with the Samaritan woman at the well – the one who’d been married five times? – which raised a lot of eyebrows, in and of itself.

He’d saved the life of a royal official’s son, helped a lame man walk out of the healing pool in Jerusalem, fed 5,000 people on the side of a hill, saved the life of that woman who’d been caught in adultery, given sight back to a blind beggar, and, of course, there was all sorts of preaching and teaching and more in the meantime.

And THEN, today, he gets to this talk about sheep and hired hands and what it means to be a – to be THE – Good Shepherd.

All of this is to say, I think that – in the midst of his very prolific life and ministry but long before his death and resurrection – Jesus is still trying to prove who he is and how he came to be in the world. And he’s still trying to convince people – in advance of the crucifixion and long before the resurrection – that he was different … better … up to the challenge … faithful … the one they were waiting for, whether they knew it or not.

He was no hired hand. He was the real deal. He would not leave them orphaned, or scattered, or snatched from the grip of God’s grace. He wasn’t in this for himself. He was following God’s lead. He would answer God’s call. He was the one and only, Good Shepherd who could be trusted above all else.

And what was supposed to be their hope in advance of the resurrection is our hope, still, on the other side of the empty tomb. Jesus stands over and above the politicians, the pundits, the pastors, the powers-that-be – and even Tay Tay and all of her tortured poets.

What we have in this good and gracious shepherd is one who comes down, into our world and down into our lives with a love and a loyalty like the world doesn’t offer – a love and a loyalty none of us deserves. When we let that love guide us and when we follow where it leads, we’ll find ourselves never lost, but found; never scattered but gathered together; never snatched away or trampled underfoot, but lifted up, welcomed back, carried home to safety, joy, hope and peace in the very presence of God – no matter what tries to snatch us or scatter us along the way.

Amen

Acts 4:32-35

Now the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common. With great power the apostles gave their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all. There was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold. They laid it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need.

John 20:19-31

When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors on the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” When he said this, he showed them his hands and his sides, and the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. He said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so now I send you.” And after he said this, he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any they are forgiven them. If you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”

Now, Thomas (who was called “the Twin”) one of the twelve, was not with the disciples when Jesus appeared. So the disciples said to him, “We have seen the Lord.” But Thomas said to them, “Unless I see the marks of the nails in his hands, and put my fingers in the marks of the nails, and my hands in his side, I will not believe.”

A week later, the disciples were again in the house and this time, Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your fingers here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt, but believe.” Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!” And Jesus said to him, “Do you believe because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”

Now, Jesus did many other signs which are not written in this book, but these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you might have life in his name.

If I were to meet Thomas today, I would ask him, which would have been harder for him to believe: What we heard about in this Gospel reading from John or what took place in that reading, later in Acts, Chapter 4.

In John’s Gospel, immediately following Easter’s resurrection, we hear the familiar story about the unfairly infamous “Doubting Thomas” with all of that heavy breathing, behind the locked doors of that hideout of a house. There are Jesus’ holey hands and scarred sides. There are those commands to be sent into the world with the authority to forgive the sins of others, at their discretion. And there’s that invitation to “not doubt, but believe.” That’s a whole lot of hard, holy stuff to take in, to buy, and to make sense of.

But it’s at least as easy to believe, if you ask me, as what happens later in Acts. Did you hear it? Were you paying attention? Did you consider it with at least as much seriousness as Easter’s good news and Thomas’ doubts?

First, it’s worth knowing that “the whole group who believed” as we hear about in Acts, was bigger than just the handful of disciples who saw Jesus in that house with Thomas on Easter Sunday. By the time we get to that Acts reading, thousands had been baptized and had come to believe; believers and followers were being added to the mix every day. And this is what we’re told:

- The whole group of those thousands who believed were of one heart and soul. (How could that be?)

- And not one of them claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common. (Can you imagine?)

- There was not a needy person among them, as the story goes. They sold their land and houses, and laid the proceeds of it at the feet of the apostles’ to be handed out, as any had need, no strings attached. (Call me “Thomas.” I’d need to see it, for myself, to believe it.)

Because that sounds like a cult to me. Or socialism, God forbid. Nothing most of us – and the culture surrounding us – are willing to believe or buy into, practice or propagate as faithful capitalists. But there it is, in black and white, lifted up as a model for faithful living, right there in the Word of God.

And it makes me wonder if people in the world might have an easier time believing the former – the Gospel good news that the love of God, in Jesus, was more powerful, even, than death – if they could see and experience the latter, from his followers like you and me – that kind of radical, selfless, sacrificial, generosity – I mean. And that’s a question we’re called to ponder, still.

…

We were blessed enough to have celebrated a couple of baptisms the last couple of weeks here, in worship – one, each, on Palm Sunday and Easter Sunday, too. Depending on which service you attended, you may or may not have known that. And, as is customary at Cross of Grace, especially when the family of the baptized and/or a sanctuary full of people who don’t usually attend Cross of Grace – or church, generally, for that matter, as is customary on a typical Easter Sunday – we make a deliberate effort at explaining ourselves.

What I mean is, we baptize at the back, by the door. We move the baptismal bowl. We encourage everyone to stand and turn to see it. And we explain our reasoning for that is two-fold. First, because baptism is a sign of our invitation, welcome and entry to the Church on this side of heaven. And it’s also a sign of our promised welcome into God’s heaven, on the other side of eternity. Hence, the doors.

And the second reason we turn our attention to the back, is to show that the kind of grace we celebrate, pour out, and promise to one another by way of Holy Baptism, is meant to turn us around, quite literally, in as many ways as we’ll allow that to happen. It’s meant to change us, utterly. God’s love is meant to inspire and transform the way we live and move and breathe in the world – here and now, on this side of heaven, in great gratitude for God’s love in our lives and for the sake of the world.

…

That’s what the good news of Easter’s grace and love and new life was doing in that room with Thomas and those first disciples – everything was changed and changing. And that’s what the good news of Easter’s grace and love and new life was doing in the lives of those followers in Acts, just the same – everything was changed and changing, still, for those who wanted in on the action, too.

They were so captivated by who they now knew Jesus to be – the Messiah, the Son of God – that they let that good news have its way with every part of their life, as individuals and as a community of faith. They devoted themselves to each other in prayer, fellowship, teaching, worship … and in sharing their money for the good of the cause, too.

…

Several weeks ago, before we got knee deep into the season of Lent, in preparation for Easter, we engaged some wonderful Holy Conversations as a congregation. Those conversations were about a lot of things – what we’ve been up to as a family of faith, what we hope to see happen around here in the future, and how we plan to make that happen. And we have some big dreams brewing among us. We heard about building projects, expanding our food pantry ministry, growing our influence in social justice efforts, adding programming for kids and youth, and more.

And we’d like to continue those conversations now that we’ve made it to the other side of Easter. Not in the same way. We won’t be hosting special events, happy hours, or luncheons and whatnot, like we did for those Holy Conversations. But we’re gearing up to make our General Fund financial commitments in early May, and we want to pray and prepare for that in the context of worship, learning, and service on the other side of the empty tomb – like Thomas and the first disciples; like the apostles and the throngs of the faithful, changed by Easter’s good news and wanting to change the world with the same kind of grace, generosity, love, mercy and forgiveness they had experienced, in Jesus.

That’s God’s call and my hope for all of us, every day that we live on the other side of Easter – that we’ll be so captivated by the grace and blessing of God’s love for the world, that we’ll return the favor as much as we’re able by sharing ourselves and our resources for the sake of what’s so unique about the ministry we share in this place, for the sake of the communities we serve.

And our ministry is uniquely beautiful as far as churches go in our community. I’m talking about our wide, sincere welcome of all people – and especially the LGBTQ neighbors among us. And I’m talking about our food pantry, our teaching about and our doing of justice for those others ignore, and our generosity when we get it right. (We have 25 grant applications to review for the $50,000 we get to give away from our Building and Outreach Fund.)

…

After that baptism on Palm Sunday, one of the family members of the newly baptized little boy came looking for me to very deliberately thank me for whatever I had preached that day and, generally, for the spirit of welcome and grace and whatever else he felt by being here. He lives out west, so won’t be back anytime soon, but he could see and feel something different about this placed than is true in so many other churches out there in the world. You all deserve to know that just as much as I do.

…

Like Thomas, sometimes you just have to see and experience it to believe it. So, I’m praying we’re all paying attention. And, like the early Church in Acts – growing and giving and sharing their resources and themselves – I’m hopeful we’ll all get in on the action in the days ahead, because I know others will be drawn to and inspired by what we’re up to when they see and experience the kind of grace we proclaim, right along with us, just the same.

Amen

Good Shepherds and Hired Hands

Post-Easter Discipleship