Good Shepherd, Good Luck, Goodbye

Sermon preached Sunday, April 25, 2021, the Fourth Sunday of Easter, at St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Littlestown, PA. This was also my last Sunday serving this congregation as their pastor.

As is always the case the fourth Sunday of Easter, it’s Good Shepherd Sunday. It’s a day that comes around every year in which we think about what it means that Jesus calls himself the Good Shepherd—and what it means to be sheep of God’s flock.

But there’s a lot of other stuff happening today. It’s my last Sunday with you all, and that fact makes it a bittersweet moment. We’re also confirming Natalie Turner at our 10:15 in-person service and celebrating her as she affirms the faith instilled in her at her baptism.

At first, I thought this might be a weird mash-up…but now I think it kind of works.

After all, the main theme of Good Shepherd Sunday is that we are cared for and we are never left behind. That we can get lost, we can stubbornly refuse to move, we may be threatened by wolves, but God will always seek us out, provide for us, protect us, and carry us to where we need to go.

As St. John’s enters the uncertainly of a pastoral transition, anxieties will run high. It is not uncommon for there to be conflict, confusion, disappointments, and frustrations that get taken out on one another. The temptation is to let these feelings take over, and congregations can get stuck, sitting in their anxiety and unable to move ahead.

But this day reminds us that God will never leave this congregation. When we get stuck, God is there, Jesus, our Good Shepherd, is coaxing, pulling, guiding, helping us move forward—will we fight and struggle and dig in our heels? Or will we listen and follow and embrace the release God offers?

And, today, we are reminded that God will never leave Natalie, nor any other member of the body of Christ. In our baptism, we are first claimed by God and promises are made: by us and by God. When we are baptized as children, our parents make promises on our behalf, and make a commitment to bring us up in the faith. Our sponsors promise to be examples and guides of what it means to be a disciple of Jesus. Our congregation promises to pray for us and support us. And God promises to never let us go.

This morning, Natalie will affirm her faith and, along with her, we will affirm the promises made so many years ago. And as we do that, we remember those waters that we were washed in, those waters that joined us irrevocably to Christ, those waters that our Good Shepherd leads us to.

Yes, today is a day to celebrate.

We celebrate rites of passage.

We celebrate new beginnings.

We celebrate relationships build out of love.

We celebrate the experiences we have shared together.

We celebrate our trust in a God who calls us to new ventures.

And we celebrate a Shepherd who never lets us go.

Amen.

The Good Shepherd’s Community

Sermon preached Sunday, May 3, 2020, the Fourth Sunday of Easter, from my home in Gettysburg, PA due to COVID-19 Stay-at-home orders. 

Today is Good Shepherd Sunday, as it always is the fourth Sunday of Easter. It’s a day when we are reminded how Jesus cares for us like a shepherd and a day when we usually end up comparing ourselves to sheep.

Usually, that comparison is not super flattering. Someone brings up how sheep are stupid; how they’re always getting lost. Sheep don’t have minds of their own. Sheep need someone to look after them, or else they’d never survive! Sheep appear to be pretty lousy creatures and we, as humans, are given likeness to them.

Some of it, sheep deserve. And some of it we certainly deserve in the comparison. We do get lost. We do need someone, especially our God, to look after us. But sheep are also much smarter than we give them credit for.

And perhaps even more important for us to realize this time around is how sheep are herd animals. They thrive in community! They do their best work when they are working together. And, so do we.

I don’t mean to say that all of us enjoy being around lots of other people all the time. That’s obviously not the case! We have introverts and extroverts, who get their energy and recharge their batteries in different ways—and even extroverts like occasional alone time and introverts enjoy social gatherings from time to time! But when we are functioning in a healthy way, we are often connected to a community: a faith community, a work community, a civic community.

In a community, the best traits of individuals are highlighted. Since people with all sorts of different abilities and strengths are pooling their abilities, you can find a place where your gift is needed and where you can do your best.

In a community, your joy can multiply. When you have a birthday or anniversary, people are there to remind you over and over again that it is a special day, worthy of observance and celebration. When something great happens—a new job, a new child, a wedding—this community can gather around you and rejoice with you. There is support here that as joyful things happen, the community will walk with you through it.

And that community will walk with your through the bad times to. In a community, your sorrow can find a place to rest. Others’ shoulders can take on some of your burden to remind you that you are not alone. Tasks that you may no longer be able to do can be taken care of by the community. When it is time to pray and the only words you have for God are words of anger or hurt, the community can praise God for you and remind you of the promises God has made.

Right now, it’s a lot harder for to feel that community. We aren’t able to physically be together in the same ways. But I’ve been blessed to see the ways in which we are still managing to make community happen—and see it happen in really innovative and remarkable ways!

Through phone calls and video chats and cards, we’re staying connected with the people we care about. Through signs on people’s yards thanking healthcare workers and delivery drivers, we’re encouraging the folks who are making our self-isolation possible. Our masks and six-foot radius might make us seem more alone, but it’s a signal that we are concerned about the health of the people we come across.

Our communities come in so many different forms and facets, but there is one thing that they all share:

I can only understand these communities being brought together by the grace of God. In my view, these communities are only created and given life because the Good Shepherd has brought them together—brought these people into the flock.

Today is Good Shepherd Sunday. The Good Shepherd who makes us one people, one community of people on this earth. The Good Shepherd who brings us together in one body, who feeds us with one meal of bread and wine, who washes us in one baptism.

Jesus said, “I am the Good Shepherd” and he will hold us together in spirit, if not in body.

Amen.

 

 

 

An Unpretty Shepherd

Sermon preached Sunday, May 12, 2019, the Fourth Sunday of Easter, at St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Littlestown, PA.

Welcome to the Fourth Sunday after Easter. This particular Sunday is always considered “Good Shepherd” Sunday because our readings emphasize Jesus’ role as shepherd—in whatever form that may take. There are only a few days in the church year that are always the same, and this is one of them. Even though the readings change each year according to the lectionary, it’s always still about the Good Shepherd.

In some ways, this is nice. Preachers know what to expect, and so does the congregation, if they happen to know this fact and are paying attention to just how many weeks it’s been since Easter Sunday. On the other hand, it can feel a little stagnating, a little stale. How many images have we seen of Jesus surrounded on a grassy hillside by a herd of sheep? Or of Jesus carrying a lamb on his shoulders. Or of Jesus strolling the in the sunshine with a shepherd’s crook in his hand?

Just for fun, I googled “Jesus Shepherd” to see what would come up. There was an incredible number of images that popped up…but they were all strikingly similar. The same serene expression always graced Jesus’ face and there really were only about those three positions Jesus was ever in.

It’s a beloved image for a reason—it is comforting and lovely and peaceful. It makes us think about how nice it can be when we come to God quietly in prayer. It may also make us think about how peaceful and lovely things will be when we are with God in eternal life. But it also can present us with only part of the picture. If we’re only seeing the sunshine and grass and peaceful days on the hillside, we’re missing the larger point of what it means to have Jesus as our shepherd.

Shepherding is hard work. It is physically demanding and requires sacrifice on the part of the shepherd to care for the sheep.

So, we can’t just focus on the “pretty” parts of Jesus’ shepherding work. We know that life is not always pleasant. We know that life is not always happy. Sometimes it’s hard and frustrating and downright painful. Even the readings today allude to it—they allude to how are this frail, mortal life can be:

Tabitha was a faithful disciple and beloved by her community. When she died, people gathered around her to comfort one another and to show off the things that she had made for them. Her death left a hole that was obviously deeply felt. The text tells us that she fell ill and died. How long was she sick? Did they have months to prepare themselves for her death? Or was it quick—she complained of a headache one day and was gone the next? We don’t know. We only know that death and grief touched this community in Joppa.

The response to the first reading is Psalm 23. I’d be surprised if most of you weren’t already familiar with this particular psalm. It’s perhaps the most well-known and certainly the most-often requested psalm for funerals. It has lovely imagery of green pastures and still waters and the Lord restoring us. Even in the midst of that pastoral image, though, the difficult facts of life appear.

“Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil;
for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”

The psalmist doesn’t say that God will keep them from that valley—but that God will accompany them through that valley and comfort them.

The reading from Revelation talks about martyrs who have come through the great ordeal. These are the people who were violently persecuted and killed because of their faith. Their belief in God did not keep them from their untimely and tragic deaths, but it did provide them courage and hope and trust that their death would not be the end of their story.

Finally, we get to the Gospel. Before Jesus goes into a reprise about his role as the shepherd whose sheep know his voice and before he makes his blasphemous claim that he is the Son of God and that he is one with God, the Gospel right makes sure that we know all of this is taking place during the Festival of the Dedication. This holiday is better known today as Hanukkah.

If you’re not familiar with the origins of this holiday or what it celebrates, it goes back to about 200 years before Jesus is born, during the time between Testaments that our Bible doesn’t tell us much about. The practice of Judaism has been outlawed, Jews had been massacred, and the temple desecrated and made unclean, leading a group of Jews known as the Maccabees to revolt.

After a series of battles, the Maccabees managed to take control of Jerusalem. They came to the temple to cleanse it and rededicate it to God, but they only had enough oil to keep the lamp lit for one night. Miraculously, the lamps stayed lit for eight days, which is why Hanukkah is celebrated today by lighting the candles one by one on a menorah for eight nights.

I tell you this story because even in this Gospel account of Jesus sparring with the religious leaders, there is the reminder of suffering and hardship and death. Jesus says, “I give them eternal life, and they will never perish,” in the middle of a festival commemorating a war spurred on by the unwarranted and indiscriminate killing of innocent people.

All of this, highlighting the points of pain in the readings today, is meant to show how our lives are not always sunny and peaceful and languid. Sometimes they are downright hard and messy and painful. And that’s when we need a shepherd the most—not a shepherd who only keeps to the green grassy knolls and still waters, but the one who will go after us when we’re stuck in the mud and muck. The one who will wedge themselves between rocks to find the place where we’re trapped. The one who will wade into rushing, turbulent water to keep us from drowning.

This is the kind of shepherd Jesus is, one who is with us through it all. It doesn’t mean we won’t face difficulty or that we won’t ever suffer, but the message of the cross promises us that God will be there in the midst of it.

When we receive a diagnosis that will change our lives forever; when a heated argument leads to the crumbling of a relationship; when an act of nature damages our home or livelihood; when an accident of neglectful action leads to death; when we are struggling to make ends meet; when we wonder what we could have done differently; when we can’t seem to find the way forward, God is there. With us. Around us. Supporting us, caring for us, loving us, and helping to carry us through.

This is the shepherd we are promised and the shepherd we are given, one who is always for us.  Amen.

 

The One Flock

Sermon preached Sunday, April 22, 2018, the Fourth Sunday of Easter, at St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Littlestown, Pennsylvania.

Today is what’s commonly referred to as “Good Shepherd” Sunday. Maybe you already figured that out. Jesus names himself as the Good Shepherd in the Gospel reading. Psalm 23, “The Lord is My Shepherd,” was read earlier.

Usually on this Sunday, there’s a lot of talk about how we, as people, are pretty sheep-like. Someone brings up how sheep are stupid; how they’re always getting lost. Sheep don’t have minds of their own. Sheep need someone to look after them, or else they’d never survive! Sheep appear to be pretty lousy creatures and we, as humans, are given likeness to them.

Some of it we—and sheep—deserve. We do get lost. We do need someone, especially our God, to look after us. But sheep are also much smarter than we give them credit for.

Frankly, I find the practice of focusing on the sheep in today’s Gospel to be a little unhelpful. After all, we call this “Good Shepherd” Sunday, not “Rotten Sheep” Sunday. So what happens if we shift the focus? What happens when we give our attention to the shepherd instead of the sheep?

Jesus is the Good Shepherd—he claims that title for himself—but why? Why does Jesus claim this designation?

The Good Shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.

The Good Shepherd knows his own and his own know him.

The Good Shepherd brings other sheep not yet in the fold.

The Good Shepherd has a voice that is listened to.

Today, the “shepherd” metaphor is not terribly prevalent. In ancient times, it served as a powerful symbol because it was part of the lifestyle. But now, here, we rarely use it in common conversation. Instead, it just doesn’t come up that often. This makes it a bit more difficult for us to understand what it means for Jesus to be our Shepherd. Maybe we need to dig a little deeper into the person Jesus describes:

“The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” The Good Shepherd gives us life by sacrificing his own.

The good shepherd knows his own and his own know him. The Good Shepherd knows us each by name. Through this shepherd we are claimed with the cross of Christ in the waters of baptism. Through this shepherd we have been reconciled to God.

The Good Shepherd brings other sheep not yet in the fold. The Good Shepherd offers abundant life to all and seeks to gather all people in together. The Good Shepherd is not limited to the four walls of our congregation here or any of the constraints we try to impose.

The Good Shepherd has a voice that is listened to. The Good Shepherd knows and calls each of us by name. We are given a vocation and a calling to live out as Christians.

And if this Good Shepherd is who Christ is—and these actions are what Christ does—then what is our response as sheep of this flock?

As I stated before, stereotypes about sheep are usually bad. They’re stupid, stubborn, not the most attractive animals out there. But even the most negative portrayals show us that sheep are herd animals. They thrive in community. At our best, we do the same.

I don’t mean to say that all of us enjoy being around lots of other people all the time. That’s obviously not the case! We have introverts and extroverts, people who get their energy and recharge their batteries in different ways—and even extroverts like occasional alone time and introverts can enjoy social gatherings! But when we are functioning in a healthy way, we are often connected to a community: a faith community, a work community, a civic community.

In a community, the best traits of individuals are highlighted. Since people with all sorts of different abilities and strengths are pooling their strengths, you can find the areas where your gifts are needed and where you can do your best and thrive.

In a community, your joy can multiply. When you have a birthday or anniversary, people are there to remind you over and over again that it is a special day, worthy of observance and celebration. When something great happens—a new job, a new child, a wedding—this community can gather around you and rejoice with you. There is support here that, as joyful things happen, the community will walk with you through it.

And that community will walk with your through the bad times, too. In a community, your sorrow can find a place to rest. Others’ shoulders can take on some of your burden to remind you that you are not alone. Tasks that you may no longer be able to do can be taken care of by the community. When it is time to pray and the only words you have for God are words of anger or hurt, the community can praise God for you and remind you of the promises God has made.

I think it is especially poignant that we celebrate this notion of community on Earth Day. Earth Day recognizes and celebrates our relationship to our planet: to the good creation God brought out of chaos and all parts of humanity which participate in it. In community, we are able to work towards clean water, unsullied air, and sustainable practices that benefit both the environment and the people who rely on it?

What are the communities you are involved in? What ecosystems connect you to creation, or you to your neighbor? Where do we see healthy communities around us? Is it when people come together after a natural disaster? When people from all walks of life join together to march or protest for social change? When people give time and energy to projects designed to improved the lives of everyone?

My sister, Katy, currently works as the Program Director for Health and Sustainable Development in the Global Mission Unit of the ELCA. Although it is hard for her to describe her job in a succinct way and although I still don’t know every little thing she does, her work takes her all around the world, working with our companion churches and local communities in efforts to improve health, access clean water, reduce hunger, develop housing, and more. Her most recent trip took her to Sierra Leone last week, visiting ELCA World Hunger projects and learning a lot from our companion churches.

This is the community God has called us to. Somehow, amazingly, we have these relationships that span the globe where we are connected by a common mission and inspired to serve and learn from one another.

As a Christian, from the perspective of someone who believes the Holy Spirit is always at work, I can only understand these communities being brought together by the grace of God. In my view, these communities are only created and given life because the Good Shepherd has brought them together—brought these people into the flock.

Today is Good Shepherd Sunday. The Good Shepherd who makes us one people, one community of people on this earth. The Good Shepherd who brings us together in one body, who feeds us with one meal of bread and wine, who washes us in one baptism.

Amen.