May 3, 2009
Acts 4:5-12; Psalm 23; I John 3:16-24; John 10:11-18
Dear friends in Christ: Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
Prepare our hearts, Lord, to receive your Word. Silence in us any voice but your own that in hearing, we may believe and in believing, we may obey your will revealed to us in Jesus Christ. Amen.
1The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
2He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters;
3he restores my soul. He leads me in right paths for his name’s sake.
4Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
5You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
6Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long.
What a beautiful image of God’s relationship with us—
this Garden-of-Eden-like experience of
passion for, protection of, and provision by
the Good Shepherd for the sheep.
– It’s a vision for heaven—when death and division will go down in defeat;
– it’s a vision for life—when our hearts are hurting, and when our spirits soar;
– it’s a vision of the ideal blend between flock, feast, and friend—depicted so beautifully here in the 23rd Psalm, as well as in our stunning stained-glass window [which is, incidentally, 120 years old this year!]
Now, I’ve had some personal experience with pigs, cows and horses, but my knowledge of sheep is pretty much out of a book. The closest I’ve come to those wooly creatures is when Carolyn and I visited our daughter, Rachel, who was studying overseas. We travelled down into the hills of southwestern France and stayed at a Bed and Breakfast…on a sheep farm.
The setting was idyllic—it was just outside the picturesque village of La Bastide-Clarence. Every house there has white-washed walls and red-tiled roofs, the streets are narrow and winding, and the smell of freshly baked baguettes floats on the breeze . . . unless, of course, the wind is blowing in the wrong direction. In that case, one can’t help but notice another aroma, with a certain barnyard bouquet, a stronger sort of scent…less fresh and much more potent!
And did you know that sheep like to get up early in the morning? We started hearing their bleats and baas (as our Air Force son would say) at 0-dark-30. But one would start, then another would join in, until we were serenaded by an entire sheep opera as they eagerly awaited the arrival of their 5:00 a.m. breakfast at the hands of the good farmer.
These beautiful images of sheep . . .
– in the 23rd Psalm,
– in our stained glass window,
– and in that bucolic Bed & Breakfast—though emotionally wonderful, they can also allow us city dwellers to romanticize this very earthy experience of producing, providing for, and protecting these animals.
For those who have had up-close-and-personal experiences with sheep, What’s true about these PEACEFUL images we’ve mentioned? AND What ELSE should we know about sheep?
– not self-sustaining, dependent for provisions and protection
– can wander off and get lost
The Bible also uses images of this sadder side of sheep as well:
– In Isaiah 53 we read, All we like sheep have gone astray…;
– In Luke 15 Jesus tells the Parable of the Lost Sheep…; and
– In Matthew, when Jesus predicts his death, he quotes Zechariah 13:7 by saying, I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered.
This theme is woven through a fantasy novel by the author, Brandon Sanderson. The story has dark shadows of conflict that are like those seen in both C. S. Lewis’ The Last Battle, and Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings. These two men wrote with their spirits imprinted by the dictatorial and dreadful power of Adolf Hitler.
So, too, in Sanderson’s book Mistborn, the people are subservient and subdued—ruled by a tyrant who keeps them too tired, too hungry, too afraid to ever rebel…they are, indeed, like sheep without a Good Shepherd.
And doesn’t that image describe how everyone feels at one time or another? Lost or gone astray, hungry for fellowship and food, wondering if we will ever be blessed to be found, to be fed, to be favored with the care of the One shepherd whom we dare to call Good?
Author James Herriot, in his delightful book, All Creatures Great and Small, tells a wonderful story. As the village veterinarian, he occasionally had to deal with some tragic cases. One day he was called to see to a dog that had been horribly mistreated. Chained to the wall inside a filthy shed, he saw the animal lying quietly in the dark and the dirt.
It had been starved—the bones of its face, rib cage and pelvis stood out in sharp relief. Its hindquarters were covered with pressure sores, and its coat was caked with feces and dirt.
But after examining the dog, Herriot saw that it had perfect teeth, a good body, and a strong heart. Turning to a nearby policeman, he said “You know, inside this bag of bones there’s a lovely and healthyGolden Retriever. I wish there was some way of letting him out.” He glanced at the crowd that had gathered and happened to notice a familiar face looking on. There stood Mrs. Donovan, the good natured and nosy town busy-body. Just a month earlier, her little dog that was her constant companion had been struck and killed by a car. It had left her heart-broken and convinced that she could never bring herself to love another dog.
The vet saw her looking intently at the big retriever. He thought for a minute, then said to the officer, “I’m afraid we’ll never find someone who can give this dog all the care he needs. I suppose there’s nothing else for it. He’s suffered enough…I’d better put him to sleep right away.”
But right then, Mrs. Donovan squeezed her way inside the shed to look at the dog. She stood silently for a few moments, obviously in the grip of deep emotion. Then she burst out: “Can I have ‘im? I can make him better, I know I can. Please, let me have ‘im!”
Three weeks later, Dr. Herriot met Mrs. Donovan walking briskly through town—with a big yellow dog on the end of a leash. Writes the vet,
As she saw me walk over, she stopped and smiled impishly, but she didn’t speak. I looked down with something akin to awe. The dog was still skinny, but he looked bright and happy, his wounds were healed and there was not a speck of dirt in his coat or on his skin. As I straightened up she seized my wrist in a grip of surprising strength and looked into my eyes. Then she said, “Dr. Herriot, haven’t I made a difference to this dog!”Thanks be to God that you and I are in the care of the Good Shepherd, not locked away to languish in some dark shed of sin. Instead, we-have-been-and-will-always-be gathered into the flock, given a feast, protected and provided for by our lord and friend, Jesus Christ.
And even more than that,: this blessing is intended for everyone—all people everywhere are asked, invited, encouraged to find their home with us in the Good Shepherd’s flock—not because we deserve it, but because our God has willed that all people are welcome at the Lord’s feast of love. Think of the difference that he makes to their lives—and ours! Amen.
Pastor Scott Fuller