This morning when you woke up, did you think about what you would wear to worship? Was the first thing that came to mind pulling out your sheepskin coat and hat and wearing them to church. Did you consider brining your lambskin throws or your sheepskin slippers? Were these your first thoughts?

 

You know of course that it is Shepherd Sunday. You didn’t know? You didn’t have it marked on your calendars?  Every year, on the fourth Sunday after Easter, we leave behind the stories of the resurrection and focus on the Good Shepherd. Jesus said, “I am the good shepherd.” (John 10:11a) and he describes what this means in the tenth chapter. On Shepherd Sunday, over three successive years, we study the entire 10^th chapter of John. Each year, we read the 23^rd Psalm. So on this weekend, we should all be in UGG boots or sheepskin slippers. Jesus is the Good Shepherd and if we know his voice, we are his sheep. Therein lies part of the challenge. Are we “Good Sheep” who know the voice of the “Good Shepherd?”

 

When it comes to this text, it would make more sense to study it in December. Not only could we wear UGG boots to worship and be comfortable, it would fit the story. The passage says that it was the “time the festival of the Dedication took place in Jerusalem. It was winter, ….(John 10:22) The festival of Dedication is better known as Hanukkah.  It commemorates the triumph of Judas Maccabeus over the Syrian ruler Antiochus in 164 or 165 B.C.  Antiochus tried to force Greek philosophy and religion on the Jews.  Failing that, he attacked Jerusalem, looted the temple treasury, and desecrated the altar by sacrificing a pig on it.  Judas Maccabeus and his brothers gathered an army, liberated Jerusalem, cleansed the temple, and rededicated the altar.  The festival of Dedication commemorates that rededication. Because this festival takes place in December, it was in fact, winter.

 

Last weekend however, I pointed out that John is a deeply symbolic book. Much of his writing has deeper meanings. I pointed out that the disciples going fishing after the resurrection likely indicated more than a literal casting of nets. They were fishing for answers. Their catch of 153 fish represented a symbolic description of all of the known species of fish in the world at that time. The story is about netting all of God’s children and introducing them to the voice of the Good Shepherd.

 

The same symbolic writing is also at work in this text.  The temple represented the presence of God. Literally, there was the belief that God lived within the Holy of Holies in the Ark of the Covenant. When Jesus cleanses the temple in the second chapter of John, Jesus is identified as the new temple (John 2:19-21). John’s reference to Hanukah is symbolic. “Like the temple in the Maccabean period, Jesus is about to suffer desecration. He will be crucified and rededicated in his resurrection at Easter.” [i]

 

John says, “It was winter,” which of course it is. But just as the light and darkness alludes to a spiritual condition in the gospel of John, so does this seasonal reference. There is a spiritual chill in the air. We’d say the relationship between Jesus and the ruling authorities was “frosty.” In fact, it is worse than frosty. If we read past the assigned lesson, the next verse states, “The Jews took up stones again to stone him.” (John 10:31)

 

This is a very hostile environment. In fact, the story literally drips with the illusion of this hostility. John says, “Jesus was walking in the temple, in the portico of Solomon" (v. 23). This makes sense, if indeed it is winter. It is a covered, enclosed area of the temple on the eastern side. But it would also be an easy place to trap someone. In fact, John says, the Jews gathered around him” (John 10:24). The Greek word around ekuklosan, literally means encircled. Do you have the image? It’s like Jesus, the Good Shepherd, standing with his disciples, his small flock of sheep, encircled by hungry coyotes, ready to pounce. It is a very real image, right out of nature. 

A few years ago, the Sierra Club and the U.S. Forest Service were presenting an alternative to Wyoming ranchers for controlling the coyote population. It seems that after years of the ranchers using the tried and true methods of shooting and/or trapping the predator, the environmentalists had a "more humane" solution.

 

What they proposed was for the animals to be captured alive, the males castrated and let loose again so that the coyote population would be controlled. The proposal was put to the Wyoming Wool and Sheep Grower's Association by the Sierra Club and the US Forest Service.  

 

All of the ranchers thought about this amazing idea for a couple of minutes. Finally, an old shepherd in the back stood up, tipped his hat back and said, "Son, I don't think you understand the problem. Those coyotes ain’t romancin’ our sheep.” - they're eatin' 'em."

 

Those who encircled Jesus and his disciples were ready to eat them live, ready to pounce, to kill. But there in the Temple, there is safety in being in the flock. This is at least one of the things we need to affirm on Shepherd Sunday. There is safety in numbers, security in the flock.

  

A few weeks ago, I met with one of our lost sheep, someone who had wandered from the flock. He admitted that his wandering had done damage to his life. “I know that when I’m active and involved at church, I’m making better decisions. I’m more in control of my work, my marriage, and my family life. But when I get lazy about my spiritual discipline, I start listening to the wrong voices.” Then he took a big breath and said, “And those voices end up eating me alive.” [ii] 

     

Here is the truth about sheep. When sheep wander away from a flock, they don’t often do it intentionally. They just do it a few steps at a time. Suddenly they are so far away that they can’t find their way back. At that point, they listen for any voice that will call them to what they perceive to be security because sheep, by nature, wants to be with other sheep.

 

The same thing happens to people. Not very many of us say I’m going to wander away from the pack. Few wake up one morning and say, “Today, I’m going it on my own. I don’t need the Body of Christ; I don’t need the church any more.” What happens is you start wandering away, a service at a time. Before long, you find yourself so far away that you aren’t sure you know the sound of the voice calling you back. But because it is important to be with people, you start listening to other voices and they sound similar or maybe even sound better. At that moment you are vulnerable to the attack of the coyotes.  When those voices start suggesting ways of living that aren’t honorable, aren’t moral, aren’t Christian, you are at risk. Good Sheep stay in the flock and in the flock, they hear the voice of the Good Shepherd.   

           

There are all kinds of reasons to be involved in church but one of the most underrated is the sound of your fellow sheep. The bleating of fellow Christians is a chorus of accountability because the church is the voice of Jesus calling. “My sheep hear my voice.” (John 10:27a.) How do we hear the voice of Jesus calling? We hear it here, in this place, in the voice of the other sheep, in the words of those around us.

 

I have never heard the actual voice of Jesus. I know many who use the phrase, “the Lord told me.” When they use this phrase, I’m confident that most are talking about the Holy Spirit shaping their thinking or feelings on an issue in mystical ways. Others may indeed be giving affirmation to the voices that have authority within the church. I did know a woman that claimed she actually heard Jesus’ voice. I was a very young pastor serving as a student associate. I visited with her regularly in the LA County Psychiatric Ward. Her family had her locked up because of this voice she was hearing which she believed was Jesus. When she was finally stopped hearing the voice, she was released and she returned to the fold. She said to me, “It is so sad that you haven’t heard him. I wish you could have the experience that I had. I’ve actually heard Jesus. But I know most of you couldn’t stand it. You’ll just have to hear him around here.”

 

Unfortunately, most people don’t even hear him around here, around the church.  Six out of ten US Americans can't name half of the Ten Commandments, much less in order. Fewer than half of US Americans can name the first book of the Bible. Only one third of US Americans know who delivered the Sermon on the Mount. Many think Billy Graham was the preacher. And 25% of US Americans do not know what is celebrated on Easter.[iii] If people are going to know the Good Shepherd’s voice, you have to invite them into the fold, invite them here. Otherwise there are too many competitive voices.

 

In New England, the ancient parishes of the seventeenth century in the Congregational order are not described as "founded"--if you ever look at an old seventeenth-century New England church, the sign will not say, "Founded in 1620," "Founded in 1636," "Founded in 1690". Instead, they use a very different nomenclature unlike anywhere in the church, either in Europe or in this country: it says "Gathered in 1620," "Gathered in 1640," "Gathered in 1690." There is something very different between being founded and being gathered. The notion is that of sheep being gathered into the sheepfold.[iv]

 

In the symbolism of us being sheep, Good Sheep have a shepherding function. We gather the sheep into the sheepfold. If you were here last weekend, you can begin to see the logic of Shepherds’ Sunday. Last weekend, in Jesus’ final resurrection appearance, he turns to his disciples and says, “Feed my Lambs.” “Tend my Sheep.” “Feed my Sheep.” He turns the sheep into shepherds. You and I, who have gathered as the flock, gathered as sheep, we gather others. We become the shepherds.

 

I have to admit that this gives me a little comfort, not because I am a pastor and have a shepherding function. It gives me comfort because eventually, the metaphor of being Good Sheep breaks down. I can go with good sheep hearing the Good Shepherd’s voice and following Him. I can go with the metaphor of staying in the flock as Good Sheep behavior. But what else do Good Sheep do. They get fat and they get slaughtered. That’s where we have some problem, isn’t. We don’t want to be slaughtered. When it comes to pushing this metaphor out, I could imagine us being like the cows who do marketing for Chick-fil-a. You know the ones who hold up the sign declaring, “Eat Mor Chikin.”[v] If we are just lambs being led to the slaughter as the metaphor plays out, then Christianity has a short future. At the very least, we’d be sheep, we’d join the cows and hold up signs saying “Eat Mor Chikin.” So I am comforted by taking on the shepherding role and gathering in the flock.

 

But we aren’t the only ones who change roles. The Shepherd does to, doesn’t he? This is the truth of Shepherd Sunday. The Good Shepherd ultimately is the Good Sheep.

 

Not only does he lead us beside still waters. Not only does he protect us in the valley of the shadow of death. He changes his role. He takes off the shepherd’s mantle, lays down the shepherd’s crook and becomes the Good Sheep. He becomes the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. Jesus switches from being Good Shepherd to Good Sheep. 

 

You can see why I thought we should wear sheepskin clothing items this weekend. It’s not because we are Good Sheep and it is certainly not because it is winter. It is winter only in the text. In winter you ask, “How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly.” (John 20:24b) That’s a winter question. The answer comes in spring, when lambs are born or in this case, come back to life again at Easter. There is no suspense any longer. We know. That’s why we should wear sheepskins on this weekend. It’s not because we are Good Sheep. It is because Jesus was. Short of the cross, it may be the best symbol we’ve got.

 

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