John 10:1-10
[Jesus said,] “Very truly I tell you, anyone who does not enter the sheepfold by the gate is a thief and a bandit. The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The gatekeeper opens the gate for him and the sheep hear his voice. He calls his sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought them out, he goes ahead of them and they follow him because they know his voice. They will not follow a stranger, but they will run from him, because they do not know the voice of strangers.”
Jesus used this figure of speech with them, but they did not understand what he was trying to say to them. So he said to them again, “Very truly I tell you, I am the shepherd of the sheep. Everyone who came before me were thieves and bandits, but the sheep did not listen to them. I am the gate. Everyone who hears my voice will be saved, and they will come in and go out and find pasture. The thief comes only to kill and to steal and to destroy. I came so that they may have life and have it abundantly.”
I’ve listened to the first two episodes of Nadia Bolz-Weber’s new podcast. It’s called “The Confessional” and so far – again, just two episodes in – it’s been interesting. It’s not safe for work or if the kids are around, unless your co-workers or kids are okay with foul language, and some very adult themes, so consider that however you need to.
Nadia Bolz-Weber says “The Confessional” is meant to be like a “washing machine for your shame and secrets,” a chance for guests and callers to share experiences from their lives they’re not proud of. She even gives a phone number at the end of each episode which you can call, make a confession of your own, and possibly have that confession played on the podcast for all of her listeners to hear. (The podcast walks this strange, fine line between holy and hokey, for me, so far, because of that, but it’s mostly holy, and pretty compelling.)
Anyway, Nadia’s first guest was Megan Phelps-Roper, who is a former member of the Westboro Baptist Church, which was started by her grandfather and made up, mostly, I believe, of his offspring and members of Megan’s extended family. Westboro Baptist Church, for those of you who don’t know or maybe haven’t heard about in a while, is a congregation of Christians who find it meaningful to protest publicly about how much God hates gay people. They also stage protests at funerals for soldiers by way of chants and signs and songs. They have a pretty active online presence, too, so I went to their website yesterday, just for the heck of it, and found out they’re pretty certain the Coronavirus is God’s wrathful judgment upon an unfaithful people. So, they’re a fun bunch who give Christianity and Church and Faith and Jesus, actually, a bad name, in my opinion.
But, Megan Phelps-Roper was on “The Confessional” podcast – and I’ve heard her speak on other occasions, too – to renounce that part of her life and to explain how she came to see her faith and her God in a different, more gracious, loving sort of light, in spite of how she was raised. Oddly enough, she says what broke the ice for this new way of knowing God, was the concern showed for her – in spite of her harsh and hard-hearted ways – by followers on Twitter, who genuinely worried about someone who could harbor so much hate in their heart, and were willing to engage that with her.
Nadia’s second guest was Lenny Duncan, an African-American pastor in the ELCA, who recently wrote a book called, Dear Church: A Love Letter from a Black Preacher to the Whitest Denomination in the U.S. (A handful of us at Cross of Grace have actually read and discussed his book, as part of our study of race relations.) Pastor Duncan has quite a story to tell about a childhood of abuse, a life of addiction, prostitution, incarceration, and the ramifications of all of that which resulted in the broken – but now mended – relationships between his daughter and her mother. (Duncan and his then-girlfriend became pregnant when he was 19 and she was 17, before he effectively disappeared for about 13 years, before getting his you-know-what together, and working to restore that relationship.)
Lenny Duncan was on “The Confessional” podcast to talk about the moments in his life when he was the most lost and broken (all of that addiction, prostitution, and incarceration, for example), but how he found grace and gentleness and love from others, despite his incapacity to share that same kind of grace and gentleness and love in return. He seems to have found all of that by way of 12-step recovery programs, his sponsors there, and, of course, through the forgiveness of his wife and partner and the daughter they created – and who they now love and care for, together.
So I thought about these two stories and about “The Confessional” as I read this morning’s Gospel and all of Jesus’ words about what it means to hear the voice of the Good Shepherd; to be called by name; to be fully known; to be led out, in safety, by the Shepherd of the sheep; and to follow that lead into a life of faith and joy. Or, as Jesus says it, “Everyone who hears my voice will be saved, and they will come in and go out and find pasture.”
See, I’m inclined to see the leaders of that Westboro Baptist Church as “strangers,” “thieves,” and “bandits” – to use Jesus’ other words. I see them as those who corrupt the grace and good news of God’s love in Jesus and lead people astray, despite their best intentions. Their own people – and anyone else who finds that sort of theology compelling – are being misled and misguided and manipulated into obedience that really isn’t obedience because it comes by way of force and fear, rather than through faith and free will.
On the other hand, remember, it took just a couple of compassionate, curious, patient voices on Twitter, of all things, to tap into the disconnect that Megan Phelps-Roper was feeling about her life in that church and about her experience in the world – and then to lead her out and into a different kind of life and faith, altogether.
Pastor Lenny Duncan talks about having his “then-estranged-girlfriend-now-wife” accept his attempt to make amends for all of the harm he had caused her. She was a voice of grace and compassion and patience, too – over the course of many months and years, I believe – who helped to lead him away from an old way of being in the world to a new one, again a life of “coming and going and finding pasture,” as Jesus would say; and finding peace and forgiveness and mercy and love, too, in a way he hadn’t known before.
All of this is to say, I think the voice of Christ, our Good Shepherd, shows up in a lot of surprising ways in this world. Lenny Duncan heard it from AA and sponsors and his family, in the end. Megan Phelps-Roper heard it from strangers on social media, for goodness’ sake. And I imagine – I hope – we’ve all heard it at some point along the way, too. In the forgiveness offered from a parent or a child. In a lesson learned by way of a teacher or boss or coach. In the mercy shared by a friend. In the forgiveness and second chances that come from the spouses, lovers, and partners who share our lives.
And I hope you hear it here, too. At church, I mean. From your pastors, in worship.
See, the really cool thing Nadia Bolz-Weber does at the end of each podcast, is she offers a blessing… a benediction… tailor-made for her guest. These blessings are personal and beautiful and heartfelt and holy, even if they are offered so publicly by way of a podcast. They are blessings that address the story of each person’s life in a way that it’s clear they have been heard and that they are known – in all of their flaws, and failings, and faithfulness – and that they are understood and worthy of such a blessing… worthy of such a confirmation of grace… worthy of such an expression of loving-kindness.
It’s what we’re meant to hear and feel every time we make our confession as a community of believers and receive our forgiveness, here. It’s what we’re meant to hear and feel every time we touch the waters of our baptism and remember the grace and welcome that are ours because of it. And it’s what we’re meant to hear and feel every time we eat the bread and drink the wine of Holy Communion, and are filled up with our forgiveness and promised redemption because of it.
I think it’s how we’re supposed to hear and understand God’s voice, in Jesus, finding us when we need it, most. It’s a voice that knows our story in all of its fullness – the sinful and the saintly; the broken and the beautiful – all of our flaws and our faithfulness. Because once we’ve followed the sound of that voice; once we’ve heard that kind of grace and mercy and forgiveness and love for ourselves – and believed it – we can become and we can be that voice for others – for the likes of Megan or Lenny or for that classmate or co-worker or neighbor or friend, just the same. And then we will walk, together with more of God’s children, along paths and into pastures of abundant life.
Amen
