Make a New Normal

Confrontation

a photo of people circled, hands together in the center, the image focused in on the hands.
a photo of people circled, hands together in the center, the image focused in on the hands.
Photo by Hannah Busing on Unsplash

The security that comes through adversity
Easter 4A  |  John 10:1-10


Let’s state from the top that this seems like a weird gospel for Easter. We’re used to hearing about Jesus appearing to the disciples, shocking them. I mean, the resurrection is kind of a big deal. 

This story is from John 10, which is the chapter before Jesus goes to Bethany to raise Lazarus from the dead. From there, he heads to Jerusalem for the triumphal entry. And then the last supper and passion and all of that come from there. So this isn’t the most timely of passages.

But…

This story immediately follows the story we read toward the end of Lent, when Jesus gives sight to the man born blind. And when I say immediately, I mean right then. He’s talking to the guy and his disciples and then says this.

So a huge theme of this story is physical and spiritual blindness.

Which means, for the fourth straight week, we’re being reminded of our blindness. The way we struggle to see Jesus when he’s right in front of us.

The Shepherd and the Gate

So let’s talk about the Shepherd and the Gate.

When we are reminded that this is a story about blindness, we might realize the importance of hearing the shepherd’s voice. In other words, we might be blind sheep and we might be scared, but we can still hear the voice of the good shepherd. He can still lead us to and from safety.

This is a really tricky analogy, isn’t it? It’s tempting to focus on our sheepish character or to think Jesus is giving us generic leadership advice. But the context is key.

He’s not giving them a lesson about raising sheep or how to maximize their leadership potential. Jesus is being confronted by people who literally want to kill him. They harassed the man born blind. And they harassed his parents. Then they drove the man out of town. In the next chapter, they will seek to kill Lazarus.

This isn’t a generic story. When Jesus is talking about thieves and bandits trying to break in, he’s talking about the Temple leaders. The ones he just said are the truly blind ones because of their hatred.

They want blood and are willing to trample on the joy and freedom of the innocent to get it.

Against this…

The Shepherd and the Gate provide safety.

The sheep don’t stay inside the fenced-in area, though. They have to be brought out to graze. And the shepherd protects them when they are out. And the gate protects them when they are in.

This image, then, of protection, of safety and security, comes in light of direct confrontation. Not with the faceless and the generic “bad guys” we often trot out in church or in political demagoguery.

Jesus is talking about their neighbors, leaders, and spiritual guides. People they should be able to trust, but can’t. Precisely because of the violence for which those neighbors are responsible.

People sworn to preserve life and are seeking to take it.

This is all starting to hit really close to home, isn’t it? For a lot of us, this is the stuff we hear or experience daily.

  • Friends who have escaped the abuse of evangelical and charismatic communities. 
  • Friends who are victims of sexual assault by spiritual leaders. 
  • Lesbian, gay, and bi friends who have struggled to have their ministries, marriages, and lives honored by the church. 
  • Trans friends who are literally fearing for their lives because of a rash of new laws written to punish them. 
  • Immigrant friends who fear daily of being disappeared. 
  • Black friends who are treated like a threat for walking outside, driving a car, or sitting in their living room.

My friends long for safety from people called to protect them. And theirs is a context that mirrors the one Jesus is talking about.

He protects them.

From persecution, hatred, violence, and even murder.

The question we might be asking then is How?

And all of this begins with his voice. His presence in the midst of our blindness. He brings us out of our place of isolation and into a community with others. 

Now, I think we get this part of it wrong. We aren’t just drawn into a community of people like us. This isn’t a private club for people who have experienced a specific kind of spiritual abuse. 

This is a community that is for everybody. So, yes, there are the abused. And there are those who have never known abuse. But it even has reformed abusers. Those who have repented of their sin. Because they too hear the shepherd’s voice. And they come under the shepherd’s protection.

In other words, the only people locked on the other side of that gate are the unrepentant abusers. The ones who refuse to acknowledge the voice calling them to drop their weapons and reconcile with others and their community. Everyone else who can hear the voice, gets in.

And that’s the best part:

Jesus enables us to join in making community.

The protection Jesus offers is spiritual and physical. Because of us! Since we are the hands and feet of Christ, we share in that work. We protect the vulnerable. And we transform systems of oppression.

That’s our job.

And our earliest spiritual ancestors understood it that way.

Jesus didn’t just show up saying I’m back! He “opened the scriptures to them.” He gave them sight when they were blind.

And their response was to take Jesus at his word. They lived together. Shared together. And built a community of love together.

They weren’t building a society of competition, accumulation, and individualism. They shared, loved, and protected one another. And they built something together far closer to the Kin-dom than their culture offered. 

This is what we read in Acts 2. A positive picture of common life. Of being the flock that hears the shepherd’s voice and listens. Trusts. And lives out his encouragement and love with joy and hope. 

And in so doing, they ensure the safety of all. Protection for the most vulnerable. And ultimately, security of the whole. Precisely because they are sharing in the work: both of listening and of making it real.

It isn’t just the individual problems which are being solved. It is a collective whole that grows because they are being a community together.

They became safe because they trusted in being that for each other. And other people wanted to be a part of that.

It stopped being a disciple thing and became a wider community thing.

We can be that too.

Taking Jesus seriously. Hearing his voice in this community. Working together. Sharing. Loving. Offering protection to our neighbors. 

Of course, we already do. In collecting goods to meet the needs of our neighbors in need. And in working with Manna from Seven. And serving with all of our neighbors: Central, Centenary, the Masons, ISU, UCM. 

We do that work because we listen to Jesus. 

And listening to Jesus offers us patience and safety. Guidance and hope. Joy and satisfaction. When we are confronted by evil or challenging the evil in our community. Whether it be racism or gender-based violence. Anti-semitism or White supremacy.

We aren’t defined by the evils present in our community, but by the good that God is doing through us.

It isn’t just good that comes from listening. So does the community we crave. The safety. Hope. Opportunity.

Our love comes from Jesus’s voice. And we receive it. Listening gladly. Hoping thankfully. Dreaming wildly. Giving graciously. And welcoming radically. Together. A community, a people, a school of love, of reconciliation, of resurrection, of becoming something amazing, beautiful, and new. Continually praising God.