Safe in the Hands of the Shepherd
April 29th, 2007
Jonathan Slater
Text:
Psalm 23
John 10:22-30
“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul.” Psalm 23 is, I think, one of the best known and most beloved of the Psalms. It is among my earliest memories related to church. It has been a companion for me on my faith journey for as long as I can remember.
But for the past ten years or so it has been associated with another poem, a song by Bruce Cockburn. This song, called “Strange Waters”, has also been a spritual companion of mine;
Cockburn sings:
I’ve seen a high cairn kissed by holy wind
Seen a mirror pool cut by golden fins
Seen alleys where they hide the truth of cities
The mad whose blessing you must accept without pity
I’ve stood in airports guarded glass and chrome
Walked rifled roads and landmined loam
Seen a forest in flames right down to the road
Burned in love till I’ve seen my heart explode
You’ve been leading me
Beside strange waters
You’ve been leading me
Beside strange waters
Streams of beautiful lights in the night
But where is my pastureland in these dark valleys?
If I loose my grip, will I take flight?
I am not sure of all of the reasons why this song has been so important to me; Perhaps it is the way it reflects the dissonance between the peaceful pastures and quiet waters of Psalm 23 and life in a world that seems far from peaceful.
Looking at the
violence,
poverty,
environmental degradation,
and interpersonal brokenness in the world,
Cockburn’s question resonates: “Where are the pasturelands in these dark valleys?” On the one hand the song is a powerful statement of faith – an affirmation that even in these dark valleys we are being led, that we are not alone; but on the other hand, it voices the question “Where are the green pastures? Where are the quiet waters?” Sometimes all we can see around us are dark valleys and strange waters. We find ourselves in places where we did not expect to be.
For Cockburn, this raises a further question; “If I loose my grip, will I take flight?” In this question, Cockburn draws on an image from an earlier song on the same album, where he sings:
Derailed and desperate
How did I get here?
Hanging from this high wire
By the tatters of my faith
Sometimes a wind comes out of nowhere
And knocks you off your feet
And look, see my tears
They fill the whole night sky
I’ve stepped out – I’m walking accross the tight-roap – and things seem to be doing ok; but then a
wind comes out of nowhere and knocks me off my feet, and I find myself hanging from the highwire; suspended over an abyss; hanging on for dear life, eyes filled with tears, knuckles white;
Did you lead me out here? Or did I make a wrong turn? Perhaps I missed something along the way?
Or perhaps the more urgent question is, Are you still with me?
I am vulnerable, exposed; My grip is slipping – I don’t know how long I can hang on – If I loose my grip, will I plunge into the abyss? Or will I take flight? If I loosen my grip, will I find that it is not so much that I am holding myself up, but that it is you who are holding me.
II.
The first readers of John’s gospel may have asked questions like these. They were most likely a group of Jewish Christians; Jews who had accepted the proclamation that Jesus of Nazareth was the Messiah
But things did not turn out how they had expected Rather than the whole of the wider Jewish community of which they were a part gradually accepting the message, many of their friends and neighbours continued to reject the news that Jesus was the promised Messiah, the rightful King of Israel.
But even more troubling, the Jewish community among whom these followers of Jesus lived became increasingly hostile. These Jewish Christian’s found themselves pushed to the margins, and even pushed out of the synagogue. They were effectively disowned by the broader Jewish community.
The source of this hostility appears to have been their worship of Jesus. It is one thing to be wrong about who is or is not the Messiah, but it is quite another to worship a human being, even if he does turn out to be the Messiah. The devotion of these Jewish Christians to Jesus had crossed the line. They became seen as apostates, blasphemers who no longer worshipped the one true God, but who also worshipped this man that they thought was the Messiah.
Finding themselves excluded and accused of blasphemy, it would only be natural for the Jewish Christians to have questions – To have doubts.
It would be natural for them to wonder: Are we mistaken? – By following this Jesus, have we cut ourselves off from the covenant and promises? In worshipping Jesus, are we transgressing the first commandment; the commandment not to have any other Gods alongside Yahweh, the God who brought our ancestors out of slavery in Egypt. Has our devotion to Jesus crossed the line into idolatry?
The pain of being rejected and pushed out from among their friends and family, from their community quickly becomes accompanied by self-doubt and uncertainty.
It is to such a community that John relates the story of Jesus walking in the Temple during the feast of Dedication – which is more familiar to us as Hannukah.
A group encircled him and asked; “How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly.”
Jesus answered: “I have told you, and you do not believe. The works that I do in my Father’s name testify to me; but you do not believe, because you do not belong to my sheep. My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me.
What are we to make of Jesus’ answer to this simple, direct question about whether or not he is the Messiah? Rather than answering it with a Yes or No, he points to the things he has been doing; Look at my works. They are my answer – they testify to who I am.
Even more troublesome than this somewhat evasive, or at least indirect, answer is Jesus explanation that the reason that they do not believe, that they do not recognize his Messianic identity from these works, is that they are not of his sheepfold. What does he mean?
One possibility is that those questioning Jesus already have a picture of what it means to be Messiah: As Barbara Brown Taylor puts it, perhaps when they asked if Jesus was the Messiah, they were asking whether he was “a warrior king, a political messiah who all of a sudden would throw off his meek disguise and grind the Romans into the dust”. And so they do not recognize the things that Jesus does as the works of a Messiah.
Perhaps they are not Jesus sheep because they are already sheep of another. They are listening for the voice of a different kind of Messiah, and so they do not believe that what Jesus works of healing the lame, opening the eyes of the blind are the works of the Messiah.
III.
For the first readers of John’s gospel, however, the question of why some do not believe in Jesus was probably not as central as Jesus words concerning those are his sheep, who do recognize and follow him.
“My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand. What my Father has given me is greater than all else, and no one can snatch it out of the Father’s hand. The Father and I are one.”
To a marginalized, questioning community struggling to come to grips with being pushed out of the broader Jewish community, Jesus speaks words of comfort: The good shepherd assures his sheep that they are safe with him. The good shepherd calls his own sheep by name and leads them out; he goes ahead of them and they follow where he leads;
To a marginalized, questioning community, Jesus says: I know my sheep; they are the ones who hear my voice and follow me. To these I give eternal life; While the thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy, I have come that they may have life, and have it abundantly.
My sheep are safe in my care: I am not like the hired hand who sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep, allowing the wolf to snatch them and scatter them. No, I care for the sheep, even to the point of laying down my life for them. No one will snatch them out of my hand.
And more than this, neither can anyone snatch them out of the Father’s hands. Being safe in my hands, they are safe in the hands of God. In following me, they have n
ot forsaken the God of Israel, for I and the Father are one.
John assures his readers that the charges of blasphemy brought against the followers of Jesus are false; their devotion to Jesus is not a violation of the commandment to have no other gods, because in worshipping Jesus they are worshipping the one true God. Being safe in the hands of Jesus is to be safe in the hands of God.
Jesus intimate connection with God is one of the main themes of John’s Gospel narrative. Unlike the other three gospels, Jesus Messianic identity is front and centre in John from the beginning; the question is not so much, is Jesus Messiah, but who is this Messiah, and from whence did he come?
In answer to these questions, John’s gospel testifies that, in Jesus, the pre-existent divine Word through whom all things were made, – became flesh. John testifies that when we see the glory of Jesus, we see the glory of God; that when we see the works of Jesus, we see the works of God; And because of this, when we worship Jesus, it is God whom we worship. When when we follow Jesus, we are following God.
IV.
The confession of God as Father, Son and Holy Spirit assures us that when we are following the way of Jesus, we are following the way of God. It assures us that when we place ourselves in Jesus hands, we are safe in the hands of God.
And being safe in the hands of God, we are enabled to follow where Jesus leads, even if that should be through dark valleys and beside strange waters.
Cockburn’s song brings to mind images of poverty, mental illness, violence, environmental degradation and interpersonal brokenness in the world. In the face of these things, there is a strong temptation for us sheep to stay in the sheep pen; to seek places of comfort and safety. But the voice of the good Shepherd beckons us, calls us by name and beckons us out of the sheep pen and into the world.
The good Shepherd invites us to walk through the alleys which hide the truth of cities, to be faced with the struggles of those who live there, and to struggle along with them, seeking hope and healing for those in what often seems like a hopeless situation.
The good Shepherd invites us to walk on rifled roads and landmined loam; To foresake our own comfort and safety in order to walk alongside those whose live in the constant threat of violence, and to struggle to find ways of responding to violence with peace.
The good Shepherd invites us to open our eyes to the ways that human activity threatens the environment; to seek reconciliation and wholeness in relationships – with friends, with family, with our neighbours, near and far
The good Shepherd calls us out of our comfortable sheep pens and into the world. He calls us to follow him, bearing witness to his way of peace. The good Shepherd calls us to follow him as he leads through dark valleys and beside strange waters.
Sometimes following where the good Shepherd leads may feel like stepping out on a limb, or walking across a high-wire.
Sometimes stepping out in faith may not go the way we had expected. We may find ourselves, like the first readers of the Gospel of John, marginalized and rejected; we may find ourselves questioning whether perhaps we might have stepped out in the wrong direction.
We may feel like we’ve been knocked off our feet – like we’re grasping to a high-wire, suspended over an abyss. We may find ourselves asking with Cockburn, God, are you still with me? I am vulnerable, exposed. I feel like my grip is slipping and I don’t know how long I can hang on. If I loose my grip, will I plunge into the abyss? Or will I take flight?
In times like this, when we face accusations from without, or doubts from within, John’s gospel reminds us that we are safe in the hands of Jesus, in the hands of God. He is holding on to us and no one will snatch us out of his hands.
“Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil;
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff – they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
Surely 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.”