Safe From Harm
Easter 4A | John 10:1-10
Christians love the image of Jesus as a shepherd. It fits perfectly in the pocket for us — it is all directive and protective, supportive and confident — so when we see it, we say yes, that’s what we want. A leader who can protect us from the wolves, who can tell us what to do, keep us from hurting ourselves, and we can be assured that they have everything handled.
Not everyone is keen on this vision of leadership, of course. But there is something about putting Jesus into that position, like making him a king over us, that resonates with a lot of people of faith. That Jesus can do what we cannot.
These days, this picture of Jesus as the good shepherd is a mixed bag. Few of us know much about sheep and shepherding, so a core piece of the image is built on assumptions: about the shepherd and the sheep. Which, let’s be honest, is kind of a problem. And this image seems to be increasingly hard for us to separate a shepherd from an autocrat and sheep from a gullible population.
Even as Jesus describes it to his followers, he realizes that they are having trouble following his meaning, too.
And I think the reason is that he isn’t calling the people stupid. But they want to call themselves and one another precisely this.
The Shepherd
I don’t know enough about sheep to preach on them. But what I do want to highlight is how much Jesus’s teaching is not about sheep. It’s part of the image. He’s talking about a fenced in pasture, a gate, and people trying to sneak in. This image isn’t reassuring, it’s menacing. And it confuses the disciples.
Jesus casts himself as a shepherd whose job isn’t to bring all of the sheep inside the fence, but to liberate them from it. This is why the thieves sneak in and climb the fence — not to gain access to an allegory for heaven, but to scatter the sheep. And it is the shepherd’s voice they know. The shepherd’s voice the sheep will trust. Not merely because of its familiarity or even its sincerity, but because it is his. The voice of the one they love.
This teaching confuses the disciples in many of the same ways it confuses people today. Because the church is often fixated on getting in and who is allowed to come in and Jesus is telling a story about taking the sheep out.
The Gate
Jesus tries a second iteration. He switches up the story, its characters and form. He tells them that now he is the gate. He is both salvation and the literal way shepherds and sheep come in and out: “Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture.” That’s a great line, isn’t it? In fact now, pasture seems to be present on both sides of the fence.
And even though he’s taking a completely different tack on the story, we’re probably still thinking about the people climbing the fence and trying to get in because we’re obsessed with stories of B&E and protecting private property. And we’re also obsessed with winning and rules and systems of belief that are as absolute as they are predictable, definable, and attainable by us.
This new approach should make things clearer, right? But like the disciples, we’re still focused on the bad guys and getting into heaven. And friends, that is sooooo not the point.
The Man Born Blind
This story would make more sense to us if we were reading along, I bet. We read chapter nine, the one right before this one, five weeks ago for the Fourth Sunday in Lent. It was the one about the young man who was born blind and Jesus gives him sight. The religious leaders catch wind and go into damage control, right? Because somebody going around giving sight to the blind might just be the Messiah and the church cannot have that.
So they gaslight the young man and mess with his parents and boot him out of town and Jesus runs into the boy like, what are you doing out here? Because, remember, Jesus isn’t hanging out at the Country Club, and he’s like, they kicked me out of town and Jesus is like, And you found me, eh? Well, will you look at that.
The religious leaders were obsessed with the metaphysical rules in chapter nine. They wanted to be able to condemn the man for his blindness. It makes it easier to judge him, punish him, ultimately, send him out into the wilderness to die as a scapegoat for their sins and for the purpose of maintaining their own religious convictions. And Jesus tells the young man that those religious gatekeepers are the condemned ones, really.
Listening
So this story about the sheep, the shepherd, the fence, the gate, and all of these thieves and bandits looking to sneak in and steal isn’t an allegory about going to heaven. It is a reflection of the relationship between God and the people who listen.
It is also some deep, deep shade to those religious leaders whose disgusting display seemed to reflect a theft that has already occurred. Thieves and bandits that have already climbed over the fence and stolen control of the blessed community and turned it into a pyramid scheme. The sheep who are being targeted and exploited by those who have turned the Temple into “a den of robbers” and steal the widows’ homes.
They also act like gatekeepers, determining who gets to count as holy, who gets to be believed, even who gets to count as a member of the community. The man who was formerly blind is the embodiment of their capricious desire to control the property and the literal presence of the people within it.
And against them stands the shepherd who is leading the people out of the fenced area, dominated by thieves and bandits, and he is also the very gate they are trying to keep. But they can’t! Because it is Jesus, not them, who minds the gate.
This is good news, isn’t it? Because it means none of us can be kept from the love of Jesus. None of us can be prevented from the pasture, from the dignity and joy that comes from being a part of the beloved community. But sometimes we have to realize which people want to prevent us from seeing the truth as it is.
Jesus is Political
These are political stories. I hate to tell you that, because we tend to abuse that word and misuse its function. Politics is the means of living in community and figuring out how we do things in common. And Jesus is giving a very pointed teaching after they had witnessed an extreme abuse of power, in which some Pharisees pushed around a family for the “sin” of God’s miracle transforming their son.
We can all probably think of some scenarios in our world where we see this kind of thing happening. And what Jesus does is not only show what is wrong, but also how they might see themselves as people who can continue to do what is right regardless.
They keep following the voice of the shepherd. The one who has told them to love God and neighbor as themselves. Who will next face rejection and then soon raise Lazarus from the dead and face the brutal cruelty of Rome.
This is the teaching at the center of the hinge moment in the gospel of John, when everything is turning. A teaching that encourages the disciples to listen and trust that they know his voice. That he is taking them to the true pasture. Not the literal barren land of the Temple or the metaphysical pasture of heaven as if these are the exclusive hopes of the children of God, but part of a much bigger pasture, a much holier world.
One that is more like heaven.
So we are drawn here. With one another. Free. Where we ensure each other’s safety, that our neighbors have food and clothing and shelter. That we be the blessed community always and forever. Continuously hearing his voice and delighting in all that we see, all that God is doing, all that is being made new around us.