Psalm 23; John 10:11-18

The Fourth Sunday of Easter | April 21, 2024 | Psalm 23 and John 10:11-18 | Ryan D. Mills |

[Jesus said:] ¹¹“I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. ¹²The hired hand, who is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away—and the wolf snatches them and scatters them. ¹³The hired hand runs away because a hired hand does not care for the sheep. ¹⁴I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, ¹⁵just as the Father knows me and I know the Father. And I lay down my life for the sheep. ¹⁶I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd. ¹⁷For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life in order to take it up again. ¹⁸No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it up again. I have received this command from my Father” (John 10:11-18, NRSV).

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son +, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Alleluia!  Christ is Risen!  He is Risen Indeed, Alleluia!

Today is the Sunday that every year we celebrate as Good Shepherd Sunday, exulting in the Lord who is our shepherd, who makes us lay down in green pastures, and leads us beside still waters. But every year it seems a little odd to celebrate our God as a shepherd—after all, Shepherd Avenue in Hamden is the closest most of us will get, isn’t it? Several years ago on a snow winter night, I got a call from a friend of mine and of this congregation, Pastor Tom Drobena. Pastor Tom had been given two little Nigerian pygmy goats by a well-meaning church member, but these two little goats both turned out to be pregnant, and now on this cold, dark, snowy night, they both proceeded to give birth. So Pastor Tom sat freezing in his newly-built shed, now repurposed for goats, while one goat delivered triplets, and the other quadruplets, quickly going from zero goats to nine! He cleaned their newborn noses, and helped keep them warm, gave a bottle to those that wouldn’t nurse, and otherwise stayed up all night long in the winter wind and snow, with his unexpected new flock—truly, being a shepherd of the flock is not for the weary or faint of heart! Soon, over his new shed turned goat pen, he had nailed up an icon of Christ, carrying a sheep over his shoulders, with an inscription and promise from today’s Gospel reading: “I Am the Good Shepherd.”

This is how Jesus begins describing himself today, “I am the Good Shepherd, THE GOOD one, for the Good Shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” Christ, in his goodness, gives himself for his flock. On the Cross he gave himself away, he was slain and torn apart, so that we might be brought near to God, so that our broken lives might be put back together and made whole. For we don’t exist to take care of him—instead he lives and dies to take care of us, to make us good. When we his people were in danger by our sins, when we were lost and could not get home, when we were under attack, when we were cold and defenseless, when we had fallen into death and could not get out, he gave himself, he laid down his life for us. The shepherd cares for the flock, taking them in his arms, feeding them with good things, bringing them safely home. There on the Cross our Good Shepherd gave himself for us, the Shepherd sacrificed for the sheep, the Master dying for the servants, the Creator laying down his life for his creatures.

My mother’s family is from out West, and her parents started out their married life in the 1930s as sheepherders—shepherds—of several hundred sheep in Montana, bred for their wool used in military uniforms. My grandparents actually lived out in the fields with the sheep, in a kind of wagon, they gave up a fixed address and any modern comforts to take care of their sheep, to protect them from the danger of bears and coyotes, to make sure they were in good grass and near clean water. One day in the spring there was a flood, the creeks overran with water, and the pastures were flooded, it became dangerous and all their workers quit and left to dry off in town. The older sheep huddled together on high ground, but the little ones got cut off, stranded on little islands that were disappearing fast, and began to be washed away into the flood. My grandfather, John Dale, the story goes, ran his horse from one island to the next, through the rushing water, putting himself and his horse in danger to pick up these stranded lambs, to snatch them from the dangerous water, and to carry them safely back to the flock. “I am the Good Shepherd, who lays down his life for the sheep.”

The hired hand, Jesus says, does not own the sheep and when he sees the wolf coming leaves the sheep and runs away. There is One Good Shepherd, but there are many hired hands, many people and institutions and powers who pretend to own the sheep, who say they’ll take care of them and then when the going gets tough just abandon the sheep to fend for themselves. Think about things in your life that pretend to own you—they say, “I’m in charge of you, I’ll take care of you, I’ll be there for you,” but when push comes to shove, when the water rises, when the wolves start circling around, when trouble comes they’ll leave you in a second, they’re out only for themselves, when the going gets tough you’re on your own! But not for your Good Shepherd—“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, thou art with me,” the Good Shepherd is with you, especially when the chips are down, especially when you feel like you’re drowning, especially when it all hits the fan, that’s his specialty, not to run away but to be with you, to snatch you from danger, and to prepare a table before you, overflowing, right there in the presence of your enemies!

Jesus says, “I know my own, my own know me, just as I know the Father and the Father knows me,” Jesus brings us as our Good Shepherd into the life of God, into the love of the Father, he knows you, he knows what you need, he knows how to take care of you, he knows how to be your Good Shepherd, he knows how to feed you with eternal life, and you know him, you know his voice, knowing like a lover knows the beloved. Some of you may have seen a famous video of children blindfolded trying to find their mothers in a room full of people who could not speak to them, but by touch, by sense, by the knowledge born of love they find each other, they are united with each other. And it’s the same for us, he knows us, and by faith we know him, and he seeks you out, he calls to you, and he takes you to himself this morning.

“I have other sheep, too,” Jesus says, “I must bring them also together.” Jesus has this fold called Trinity, but he has other sheep to bring here too, for us to help bring in as his under-assistant shepherds. Sheep that you know, sheep that are stumbling, sheep that are wandering, sheep that are hungry, sheep that are cold and alone, Christ says, “I must bring them to myself, I am your Good Shepherd and their Good Shepherd, and when I am lifted up I will bring all people to myself”—Christ gathers right here people of every race and tongue and nation and language, and brings us together in this fold, and so there will be one flock, and one shepherd, God is taking the all people of the earth and of New Haven divided and broken along so many lines, and uniting us, unifying us, joining us together under the gentle care of the One Good Shepherd, of our one Lord, as part of his one flock. For Christ knows his own, he knows you, and he calls you back to himself today, by his laying down his life and taking it up again on Easter morning he has brought you and me back to himself, on his shoulder gently laid, and home rejoicing brought me.

When I was in the Holy Land now a decade ago, we were told the story about a flock of sheep that wandered over a security dividing line and were confiscated by the authorities, put into a big pen with all sorts of lost sheep. The shepherd boy who had been watching them came to claim them, but the army official told them, “No way, not unless you can prove they’re yours.” So he took out a little flute from his pocket played some notes and sang to them, and out of this mass of animals came this flock of sheep straight to their Shepherd: “I know my own, and my own know me.” This morning your Shepherd who owns you, comes and calls to you, sings to you, for he calls you to the place where he prepares a table before you, right here at the altar this morning. Here the Shepherd gives himself for the Sheep, here he knows you, and brings you again to know and trust in him. Here he feeds you with himself, here your cup runneth over, for “I am your Good Shepherd,” he promises! Yes, the Lord is our shepherd, and we shall not want.

For Alleliua, Christ is Risen! He is risen indeed, Alleluia!

And the Peace of God which passes all understanding guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, Amen.

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The Rev. Dr. Ryan Mills

New Haven, Connecticut

Pastor@TrinityLutheranNH.org