United Presbyterian Church of West Orange

đŸ‘đŸŽ” â€œShepherd Songs” đŸ‘đŸŽ” 

May 11, 2025

Rev. Rebecca Migliore

 

        Last week we were having breakfast with Jesus on the beach and we heard him tell Simon Peter (and us) “Feed my sheep; tend my lambs; feed my sheep.”  We might remember that images of sheep feature prominently in the gospel of John.  John the Baptist, when he first sees Jesus says, “Behold the Lamb of God.”  And in one of the I Am statements (the way that the writer of John helps us to understand more about Jesus) Jesus states “I am the Good Shepherd.”  In fact, this particular I Am statement happens just before the reading we had today.   And Jesus talks about what a good shepherd does—defending the sheep at all costs.  And how the sheep know the voice of their good shepherd. 

        Of course, for so many of us, sheep imagery is imprinted on our mind because of the familiar 23rd Psalm where God is pictured as a Shepherd, who takes care of us, who helps protect us from danger, who fills our cup to overflowing, and who promises that we will be in God’s fold forever.  It is an ancient image and one that makes sense in that area of the world.  In days gone past many people would have had animals to care for, or at least would have been in close proximity to those who did.  Sheep were first domesticated in the Middle East (some believe as much as 11,000 years ago) and they are well-suited to the region’s climate and grazing conditions.  And since the Torah prohibits eating pork, lamb is the basic staple meat.  Sheep can also provide milk and wool.  So Jesus is using a familiar image to talk about God and God’s relationship with us.

 

        Refrain:  Shepherd me, O God, beyond my wants,

beyond my fears, from death into life.

  1. God is my shepherd, so nothing shall I want;

I rest in the meadows of faithfulness and love;

I walk by the quiet waters of peace.  (Refrain)

Shepherd me, O God, beyond my wants,

beyond my fears, from death into life.

  1. Gently you raise me and heal my weary soul;

You lead me by pathways of righteousness and truth;

My spirit shall sing the music of your name.

Shepherd me, O God, beyond my wants,

beyond my fears, from death into life.

 

 

        Our scene is set at the Festival of Dedication (which commentators tell me is what we now call Hannukah)—and it is in Jerusalem.  Jesus seems to spend more time in Jerusalem in the gospel of John than in the other gospels.  So here is Jesus walking in the prominent portico of Solomon at the temple complex.  And we can imagine that in this setting he is approached by the religious authorities (what John often names as “The Jews.”)  They ask him about whether he is the Messiah.  And Jesus answers: “My sheep hear my voice.  I know them, and they follow me.”

        Any of Jesus’ followers who had heard him talk about the Good Shepherd would know immediately what he was referring to.  And we can also imagine that those followers are becoming clear about what they think the answer to the question of the Messiah is.

     But many of the religious authorities (and others) did not see Jesus as Messiah material. Jesus suggests that if the works he has done (the signs of feeding, healing, and restoration) do not answer the question, no words are going to help them.

        Matthew Boulton of SALT uses this example:  “Asked to define the rhythm known as “swing,” Louis Armstrong famously replied, “If you have to ask, you’ll never know.” His point wasn’t to exclude anyone from understanding swing; rather, his point was that verbally defining it isn’t the path to understanding it. On the contrary, the way to understand swing is to hear it, to dance to it, to get a feel for it. In the end, swing really isn’t something that can be defined or explained. It has to be felt, engaged, experienced.”  (SALT, 5/6/25)

        Jesus says this in sheep language.  Sheep don’t think rationally about their shepherd.  It is a relationship, and through time, sheep come to trust the shepherd (a good shepherd); they trust that the shepherd will lead them and care for them, and that creates a bond that can’t be created by intellectual wrangling.  And this is what Jesus thinks the religious authorities of Jesus’ day are missing.  They want to be convinced rationally.  But they have as much evidence as anyone else.  Jesus looks them in the eye and says, “It don’t mean a thing, if it ain’t got that swing.” (SALT, 5/6/25).

        Over the centuries, the gospel of John has been used to constrict the idea of who will hear Jesus’ voice.  A perfect example of how it can be misconstrued is this passage.  Jesus talks about my sheep.  And how my sheep hear my voice.  But you (looking at those authorities) don’t believe, and you don’t believe because you don’t belong to my sheep.  And there we have the problem.

      Because some read those words to say: there are those chosen, and those who are not; there are those saved, and those who are not; there are those who are of the fold, and those who are not.  We’re in and you’re not.

        But we read Scripture in the light of Scripture.  And part of the discussion that has just taken place before this encounter in chapter 10, is Jesus saying that “I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold.”  And in the reading we had from Revelation (also written by the Johannine community)—we hear “After this I looked, and there was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, robed in white, with palm branches in their hands.”   

So, this idea of Jesus having “my sheep,” and those sheep hearing Jesus’ voice, doesn’t make us an exclusive club.  And it doesn’t mean that everyone else is uninvited.  That would seem to be totally against what Jesus talks about as his “new” commandment, “to love one another as I have loved you.”  And not just love the inner circle, not just love the familiar and safe, but love that reaches outside ourselves and our familiar surroundings, love that reaches outside what feels safe, love that reaches even to those who we do not like, even to our enemy.  And we are called to put that love into action.  Being Jesus’ sheep isn’t just hearing his voice, but (as he asked Peter to do), to tend, to feed, to care for, and to love others.

 

  1. Though I should wander the valley of death,

I fear no evil, for you are at my side;

Your rod and your staff, my comfort and my hope.

Shepherd me, O God, beyond my wants,

beyond my fears, from death into life.

  1. You have set me a banquet of love

in the face of hatred,

Crowning me with love beyond my power to hold.

Shepherd me, O God, beyond my wants,

beyond my fears, from death into life.

 

Jesus knows this is a tall order—for the followers of his day, and for us.  There were real physical dangers to those of John’s community—their faith, their belief, put them in mortal danger at times.  Remember this is being written at the time when Saul (among others) was running around and gathering up those of “the Way”—before he met Jesus on the road to Damascus.  So we can understand how that community might want to focus on how special they were, how much they were willing to sacrifice for this privilege of being part of the fold of Jesus.  Because of this slight bias, we have to listen extra carefully to what Jesus said they were to do.

And Jesus has a word of comfort for them, and for us.  He spends much more time talking about “no one being snatched” out of Jesus’ hand, or the Father’s hand, than he does talking about those who believe and those who don’t.  Here are the words of comfort. “I give them eternal life” (echoes of the Samaritan women at the well and the water that only Jesus gives that gushes up with eternal life).  And then Jesus goes back to the sheep image.  You can imagine that the fear of every sheep (if they can know such things) is to be snatched away by a predator. Taken away from all that they know, all that they love.  Taken and maybe hurt or killed or eaten.  That’s why there is a shepherd in the first place.  Not just to lead the sheep into green pastures and beside still waters, but to protect them from harm.

And there were (and are) Christians whose faith puts them in harm’s way.  But Jesus is talking to his sheep here, in code, even though he is conversing with those religious authorities who will end up chasing his flock.  No matter what, Jesus says to his sheep, you can’t be snatched out of my hand.  No matter what, you can’t be taken from God’s love.  You are safe in eternal arms. 

It is because of this ultimate safety that we are called to step out fearlessly into our messy, sometimes hostile, world and do what seems incomprehensible in some people’s eyes.  Insisting on justice and acting in mercy.  Loving as we have been loved.  Sharing the melody, and the swing of love, as we dance down the pathway of life, hand in hand with our awesome God. Sing with me:

Shepherd me, O God, beyond my wants,

beyond my fears, from death into life.

  1. Surely your kindness and mercy follow me

All the days of my life; I will dwell in the house of my God forevermore.

Shepherd me, O God, beyond my wants,

beyond my fears, from death into life.  (Alleluia, Amen)

 

May it be so, Alleluia, Amen.