Texts: Exodus 16:4-15, John 10:11-18, Revelation 2:12-17
In the name of the (+) Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
At the moment quite a number of our readings are taken from what are collectively referred to as the “Johannine” books of the New Testament – I’m referring to the use of the Book of Revelation and the Gospel of John, though there are also three letters of John which belong to this group, too. These works were once said to have been written by a common author – St John the Apostle himself, if you follow ancient tradition. Justin Martyr, one of the earliest Christian apologists, names the Apostle as the author, for example. However, there has long been a consensus that this is not in fact the case: there are considerable variations in language and tone, for example. So while many scholars agree that the Gospel and epistles may have a common author, Revelation is more likely to have been the work of a different John altogether.
John’s Gospel is probably my favourite (although I have a very strong attachment to Luke, probably because of its contribution to the Christmas narrative). This is partly because I love the way that the evangelist uses imagery and symbols, which are then interpreted through great discourses. These images and symbols take various forms – you have the “signs” such as the wedding at Cana and the raising of Lazarus, but you also have Jesus’ “sayings” which conjure up images in the mind. These sayings are famously begun by Jesus’ use of the words “I am” – in Greek, εγω ειμι – a deliberate use of the phrase used by God to Moses in the burning bush – “I am who I am…” and to the Israelites: “tell them ‘I am’ has sent me to you”. Those of you who came to the discussion group we held on Monday afternoon in that lovely spring sunshine will recall that we talked a little bit about this, and hopefully some of my enthusiasm for this sort of thing has rubbed off on you…
Today we hear Jesus say “I am the Good Shepherd”. This wasn’t the one people came up with first when asked to name the sayings on Monday afternoon, but I think it’s fair to say that it’s probably one of the more popular biblical images. Certainly there is a wealth of depictions of this image in art – it is the most common representation of Christ in the Roman Catacombs, for example, and has remained popular ever since. The theme of Jesus as the Good Shepherd is also found in the synoptic parables , and we can also find similar ideas expressed in the Old Testament about God, perhaps most famously in Psalm 23.
Shepherding is what lies, of course, at the heart of what we call “pastoral” care: the original “pastors” were shepherds, and it is for this reason that people have used the word to express how God might care for them. It is also applied in other circumstances: we talk of pastoral care by teachers for their pupils, for example. Whether in the secular or the religious spheres, however, the use of the word is usually intended to express similar ideas. When we speak of pastoral care, we generally mean the giving of help to others, perhaps through befriending, but generally through supporting and encouraging them. There is often a certain amount of protecting involved, especially where the “flock” are vulnerable in some way. So doctors, nurses and carers all fulfil a pastoral role, in terms of the sick, elderly, and so on. And because God created the whole world and calls each one of us, whether we listen or not, the care that is exercised by even the most ardent disciples of Richard Dawkins has the potential to show us something of the way that Jesus cares for us in turn.
In fact, we can go one further than this, especially if we consider the role of the Christian in the workplace. St Teresa of Avila’s words express this beautifully:
Christ has no body now, but yours.
No hands, no feet on earth, but yours.
Yours are the eyes through which he looks
With compassion on this world.
This sort of “pastoral” care is exercised by Moses and Aaron, too. In the reading at Evensong tonight we hear how God gives them instructions about what he is about to do – rain bread from Heaven in order to satisfy their hunger in the wilderness – and how they are to explain this to the people of Israel. Moses and Aaron are chosen by God to represent God to the people, to lead and care for them on God’s behalf. This isn’t because God cannot do things himself – the manna being an example of his direct intervention – but because God chooses to use people as his instruments or mediators. We are told repeatedly that “no one can see me, and live”, so in the Old Testament we see the great figures of Moses, Aaron, Joshua and so on acting on God’s guidance. The prophets were given messages to proclaim to God’s people. And in the fullness of time, God himself came to us in such a way that we could look upon him and not die. As the great kenotic hymn in Philippians relates, “he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave…and humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross”.
So here we have the most excellent example of pastoral care: Jesus cares for his flock so much that he is prepared to give up his own life to save them. So as well as identifying with the sheep, the Good Shepherd is also a sacrificial victim. And not just on behalf of those closest to him, but the “other sheep who do not belong to this fold”. The Good Shepherd is concerned for all the sheep, and desires to bring them all into the one flock, with one shepherd to guide them. John’s community clearly identified a need to unite with other traditions, as well as to draw in new believers.
So how are we to respond to this? If we go back to what St Teresa said, we can see how our risen Lord calls us to continue his work of caring for the flock. Some, he has called into public ministry: those of us who serve as priests, sharing in the work of pastoring Christ’s flock, are given an awesome responsibility. But we clergy aren’t the only ones who have a pastoral role: far more important is the role of the individual Christian in the world: each of us is called to care for those around, to be Christ to other people. This could be to our spouses, our wider families and friends, or to our work colleagues. But it most definitely includes those who are different to us in some way – those we might find hard to relate to or identify with. Just as Jesus sought out the lost, so we must find ways to reach out and care. This might be uncomfortable and challenging, but we can do so in the knowledge that God never asks more of us than we can manage, and that he cares for us with a love stronger than we can possibly conceive.
So on this “Good Shepherd Sunday”, let us listen to the voice of Jesus, and follow him wherever he may lead us.
Grasping at Holiness 