Beloved Gospel: The Good Shepherd First Baptist Richmond, April 22, 2018 The Fourth Sunday of Easter John 10:11-18

Transcription

1 Beloved Gospel: The Good Shepherd First Baptist Richmond, April 22, 2018 The Fourth Sunday of Easter John 10:11-18 It seems a little late to begin an Easter season sermon series doesn t it? Easter was, what, April 1? And Pentecost is, when, May 20? Of the Great Fifty Days between those two Sundays we have already covered 21; we are nearly halfway through! And yet I want to package these last four sermons in a way that will stay with you through the season; I want to preach a series called Beloved Gospel. And let me tell you why. Those of you who have been with us for a while know that the worship services at Richmond s First Baptist Church are planned around the weekly readings from the Revised Common Lectionary, which is nothing more (and certainly nothing less) than a plan for reading through most of the Bible in public worship over a three-year period. But here s the problem: those three years are divided into Year A, where the Gospel readings are mostly from Matthew; Year B, where they are mostly from Mark; and Year C, where they are mostly from Luke. John s Gospel doesn t have a year of its own. Some people think that it should, that we should add a fourth year to the lectionary cycle ( Year D ) and let John have his say. But the members of the lectionary committee (in their infinite wisdom) decided to stuff a few readings from John s Gospel into the cracks of the other three years. Which hardly seems fair. Because the Gospel of John is everyone s favorite, isn t it? When I asked for a show of hands at my first staff retreat one person voted for Matthew, no one voted for 1

2 Mark, I voted for Luke, but everyone else voted for John and I think I know why: It s not only because John contains the one verse that everybody memorized in Sunday school John 3:16; and it s not only because John stresses the importance of believing in Jesus in order to have everlasting life, which it does; no, I think it s because of all the Gospels John is the most relational. This is the Gospel where Jesus stoops down to wash his disciples feet at the Last Supper, and where he later tells them, This is love: that a man lay down his life for his friends. When we sing Jesus loves me this I know, as we did earlier, it is this part of the Bible that tells us so. And it was this Gospel that inspired the hymn In the Garden, based on the story of Mary Magdalene s visit to the tomb on that first Easter. Do you remember it? I come to the Garden alone While the dew is still on the roses, And the voice I hear falling on my ear The Son of God discloses. And he walks with me, and he talks with me And he tells me I am his own. And the joy we share as we tarry there None other has ever known. That s intimate, isn t it? Personal! But maybe that shouldn t surprise us in a gospel written by someone known as, The Beloved Disciple. Since the Second Century, A. D., that disciple has been identified as John, the Son of Zebedee, but the author never identifies himself. For the sake of modesty, presumably, he refers to himself only as the disciple whom Jesus loved. And you know how it is when you are writing about someone you love, or someone who loves you: you view the whole story through the lens of that relationship. 2

3 The other Gospels spend a lot of time on the good news of God s coming Kingdom but John suggests that when you really believe in Jesus, when you belove him (which is one of the older meanings of the word), the Kingdom has already come. The everlasting life he talks about (literally, the life of the ages ) begins as soon as you enter into that relationship and goes on from there forever. This is eternal life, Jesus prays at one point: that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent. As I ve told you before that verb, to know, is the most intimate verb in the Bible. So, this Fourth Gospel, the one we call the Gospel of John, the Beloved Gospel of the Beloved Disciple, is all about finding life in relationship with the God revealed in Jesus Christ: life that is abundant, overflowing, and everlasting. And who doesn t want some of that? So, for these next few Sundays I m going to preach the Gospel readings for Year B, which the lectionary committee has been kind enough to select from the Gospel of John and stuff into the cracks left behind by Mark s Gospel, the shortest of the four, which (thankfully) leaves quite a few cracks, some big enough for an entire paragraph, like this one from John 10: Let me invite you to follow along as I read and listen for the Word of the Lord. [Jesus said] I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. The 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. The hired hand runs away because a hired hand does not care for the sheep. I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father. And I lay down my life for the sheep. I 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. For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life in order to take it up again. No 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. 3

4 On Wednesday mornings at ten minutes to ten I usually go downstairs to something we call Community Missions, also known as our shower ministry for the homeless. At ten o clock we let them in, our homeless neighbors, some of whom have spent the night camping out in the woods or sleeping under bridges. They are tired and dirty and sometimes shivering from the cold, but we let them in and sit them down and I tell them a short story from the Bible and then we invite those who want showers only to come and get them while the others, who want to visit our clothes closet or food pantry as well, line up for coffee and pastries. They sit at the tables and eat and I usually spend some time visiting with them before heading for the elevator. I always shake hands with Buddy Hamilton who is standing there handing out towels, and then, as I wait for the elevator car to arrive, I look down the hallway where there is a wall hanging showing Jesus, the Good Shepherd, with a lamb in his arms. It s a reminder to all of us in that ministry that these people who come in out of the cold so tired and dirty are the lost sheep of the house of Richmond, and Jesus wants to gather them in, wants to tell them they are his own. I know my own and my own know me, he says, and I am constantly surprised by how well our homeless neighbors know him. But then again, they need him more than most of us. They are more vulnerable, more exposed. On cold nights, in the middle of the woods, they tell me that they whisper his name like a prayer: Jesus, Jesus, Jesus! while on sunny days they turn their faces toward heaven and say, The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. Do you remember that old Gershwin tune, Someone to Watch over Me? I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood I know I could, always be good To one who'll watch over me. 4

5 That s what they want, mostly: someone to watch over them, someone who cares, someone who will be for them a good shepherd, because not everyone is and not everyone has been. There is a pattern in the Gospel of John that is not immediately obvious to the casual reader. Jesus will often perform some kind of sign, like turning water into wine, or feeding the five thousand, or raising the dead, and then follow it with a long discourse, explaining the meaning of what he has done. Today s reading from chapter ten, for example, is part of the discourse that follows the sign of healing the man born blind in chapter nine. Do you remember him? The disciples ask, Lord, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind? And Jesus says, It wasn t this man or his parents. He was born blind that the works of God may be seen in him. And then Jesus bends down, spits on the ground, makes some mud, smears it on the man s eyes, and tells him to go and wash in the Pool of Siloam. The man does it, and he comes back able to see. Well, then, everybody wants to know what happened. Some people think it couldn t possibly be the same man, just someone who looks like him, but he says, No, it s me! And then they bring in the religious authorities, because this is a miracle and somebody needs to verify it. They ask the man what happened and he says, The man Jesus made some mud, put in on my eyes, and told me to wash in the Pool of Siloam. I did, and came back able to see! The religious authorities aren t convinced; they send for his parents to make sure he was really born blind. When his parents confirm it the religious authorities turn back to the man and say, Give glory to God! This man Jesus is a sinner! He healed on the 5

6 Sabbath day! But the man replies, Whether he is a sinner or not I don t know, but this much I do know: I was blind, and now I can see. It goes back and forth like that for a few more paragraphs but in the end the religious authorities kick him out of the synagogue. He s out there on his own, in the world, all alone. And that s when Jesus finds him. Did you catch that? Jesus finds him, like a good shepherd who searches for his lost sheep. And then he says to him, Do you believe in the Son of Man? Who is he sir, the formerly blind man asks, so that I might believe in him? You have seen him, Jesus says, and the one speaking to you is he. And then the man says, Lord, I believe, and he worships him. The next thing you know Jesus is talking about sheep and shepherds, about hired hands who don t really care for the flock, who see the wolf coming and run for their lives, but also about the good shepherd who lays down his life for the sheep. I am the good shepherd, Jesus says. I know my own and my own know me. And in my mind s eye I see that man born blind, kneeling before Jesus, worshiping him. The hired hands the religious authorities had put him out of the synagogue, out of the sheepfold, left him on his own out there in the wild where the wolves could get to him, but Jesus, the good shepherd, found him, called him, claimed him as his own. In the discourse that follows that story you can tell that Jesus doesn t have a lot of love for these hired hands, or for anyone who would fleece his flock, but they re out there. I sometimes see them on television: those preachers of the Prosperity Gospel flying around the world on their private jets, begging their sheep to plant a seed of faith by sending in their checks and money orders, holding out the promise that those seeds will produce thirty, sixty, and a hundredfold, and then, when it doesn t happen, telling the 6

7 sheep that it s their own fault because they didn t have enough faith. Jesus doesn t do that. He doesn t ask his sheep to lay down their life savings for him. No, he lays down his life for them. And it s not just the people who send their money to the Prosperity preachers I m thinking of, it s not just the homeless men and women who come to Community Missions, it s not just the man who was born blind: it s all of us. All of us who hear his voice and follow him. We are the sheep of his pasture. I know my own, Jesus says, and my own know me. When Mary Magdalene came looking for Jesus on that first Easter Sunday she came to the garden alone, while the dew was still on the roses. And when she saw the Lord standing there she didn t recognize him at first; she thought he was the gardener. It wasn t until he called her name, Mary, that she gasped and said, Rabbouni! He calls his own sheep by name, John tells us, and they recognize his voice and follow him. At the end of this Gospel the risen Lord takes a walk with Peter on the seashore. He says, Peter, do you love me? Peter says, Yes, Lord, you know that I love you. Then feed my lambs, he says. He asks him again and Peter says the same thing, Lord, you know that I love you. Then tend my sheep, Jesus says. He asks a third time and it hurts Peter s feelings. Lord, you know everything. You know that I love you! Then feed my sheep, Jesus says. Here at the end of this Beloved Gospel Jesus reveals what is most important to him these sheep, these little lambs all of those who hear his voice and follow him. He wants to make sure they are loved and cared for. He wants to make sure you are cared for, but not only you. In today s reading he says, I have other sheep who do not belong 7

8 to this fold. I must bring them in also, and they will listen to my voice, so there will be one flock, one shepherd. Which means that you never know who s in and who s out. You can t judge people just by looking at them. Jesus seems to care about the most needy, the most vulnerable in this world. He seems to care about those who have gotten lost in the woods. He seems to know that they need a good shepherd more than others. He seems ready to lay down his life for them. Just as he laid down his life for you. Jim Somerville