Sermon by Reverend Dr. John W. Mann | April 21, 2024
John 10:11-18
In the stories that are told about Jesus, he is described in many different ways. He also described himself in different ways. In today’s story, Jesus is telling his friends about the nature of his life and work. One thing I appreciate about these stories is they tell of how his friends didn’t always get the message. They were often troubled and confused by what he said. They wondered what he meant. As we sometimes have a tendency to wonder.
“I am the good shepherd,” he said. We get that image. Jesus leading the flock, who are us, in a good way. He leads, we follow. He also said, “I am the bread of life; I am the living water; I am the way, the truth and the life.”
And he also said, “I am the gate.” How does that fit into who he is? We don’t say, “Behold, the gate of the world.” We don’t sing hymns to his gate-like qualities. What does a gate do? If Jesus is the gate, metaphorically speaking, then he serves as both a passageway and a barrier. He is the way to the life he called “abundant.” He is a barrier to those who would rather live by a sacrificial system. Not one in which we require the sacrifice of animals like in the old days. But a system that requires there to be scapegoats and which is based on the values of shame, violence and retribution.
If we were to make a list of the qualities of good leadership, qualities such as empathy, effective communication skills and active listening would likely be somewhere on it. Think about how Jesus listened. He never said, “I’m the Son of God, I can do anything I want.” It was other people who usually came to that conclusion. He would tell them, “No, I can’t do anything I want. I can only do what God wants me to do.” So people listened to him.
People wouldn’t think he was such a great teacher if all he did was go around talking and talking. What helped people listen to Jesus was that he listened to them. They knew he listened because he spoke to their hearts.
Sometimes he said things people didn’t want to hear. Those people were usually ones who had their minds made up. “Don’t tell me about God, I know about God and who do you think you are to tell me about God.” Sometimes people know what they know, and they don’t want to know any more than that. Knowing more than what they know is too upsetting. It hurts to think so hard sometimes. God is usually pretty small for people who know what they know.
In order to fit God into that little box, you have to take things away from God. Like a sense of humor. Like a sense of compassion. Like a sense of justice. What God ends up being is like a mirror in a box. Just a reflection of the pinched up little minds and souls that put God there. So anytime people who know what they know look for God in their box, they see their own reflection and say, “See, see! God is just like me.” Jesus listened to people. That’s why they listened to him.
It’s not always easy to listen to people. In order to listen you have to stop talking. Really stop. You know what it’s like to want somebody to hear you, and they don’t hear you. They jump into what you’re saying before you have a chance to finish your words. Or maybe they wait for you to stop talking so they can give you the little speech they prepared the whole time you were talking. Nobody hears anybody because everybody is just talking and preparing little speeches.
In order to listen, you have to be still. You have turn off the speech in your own head and just listen. Then a funny thing happens. You begin to hear different things. You hear the words that someone is telling you. And you hear more than the words. You hear the meaning that the words convey.
Maybe someone says, “Oh I’m fine, everything is great and how are you?” But you know just by hearing them that everything is not great. You can tell they are not happy. How can everything be great? And the danger is when we say, “Oh great, I’m glad you’re great. That’s fine. I’m Fine.” And we smile and remind ourselves, “Be nice.”
Jesus listened. He stopped what he was doing, and he heard what people were saying. He didn’t go around with a silly grin pasted on his mug mouthing banalities at people and moving on to the next happy encounter. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t fond of crowds. Too many people talking at once so that it’s hard to really listen to any one person.
He had to be vulnerable in order to hear people. He had to let down his guard. He had to let go of all the things he knew and show the one thing he cared about was that he cared about people. They knew he cared.
People were changed because he listened to them. He helped people hear what God was telling them. What God was telling them all along. A lot of what God was telling them was very simple. Things like, “You’re not what people say you are. You are what I say you are. You are my child and I love you.”
When people listened to what God was telling them, then they began to see themselves as God saw them. They gained the courage to take off the labels other people had plastered them with:
Leper Blind Ugly Useless
Sinner Barren Outcast Unclean
Jesus would tell them, “Your faith has made you well.” All the time they were thinking, “Oh thank you Jesus. You saved me, you healed me, you did this great thing for me.” He said, “It was your faith. You believed. You had it in you the whole time; you just needed to see it.” He just helped people see God and they came alive to God and were changed. They were born again, transformed. And it all came from within, from their own faith.
For that he was put to death. There were enough people who were threatened by Jesus. Why? Because if people start seeing themselves as free, free to experience God, free to live their hopes and dreams, free to be the people God created them to be, and free to be included in the flock that Jesus calls his own, then the people who want to have the power over others don’t have it any more. The systems of politics and religion that were bent on keeping power put Jesus to death.
They would put him to death even today. That’s what systems of power do. So many of the great freedom makers end up on one kind of cross or another. Oscar Romero, Gandhi, King, Bonhoeffer, Wallenberg. Some people just can’t stand it when justice becomes a real possibility. Kill the possibility by violence and death.
Jesus showed a different way. He became the gate to transformation. He became the way to abundant life. He was non-violent. Instead of seeking retribution, he showed that the true nature of God is to offer forgiveness.
What does it mean if we are to say that he is our Good Shepherd? In a way it means to that we say, “I give myself to being of your flock.” In the words of Anthony de Mello –
“I am giving you me, Lord. In the twinkle of my eye and the sadness of my sighing; in the laughter of my heart and the tears of my soul; in the rhythms of my feet and the silence and the silence of listening.
I am giving you me in the promises I keep and the insults I pardon; in the good news that I share and the confidences I protect; in the remembering of gracious things and the forgetting of forgiven sins.
I am giving you me in the young ones I kneel beside and the old ones I sit with; in the unborn ones I pray for and the dying ones I pray with; in the bright ones I wave to and the hurting ones I touch.
I am giving you me in the meant song, in the quiet pause, in the special moment, in the nod of my life to your will and still, I am giving you me in the stuttered prayer and the lingering doubt and the dry days of the spirit and the contracted hopes.
I am giving you me, Lord.”
We might say in our hearts, “I want to be like Jesus. I want to listen to people. I want to listen to God.” We might then be like Jesus; a reflection of him in the world. He is a gateway to discovery; his way is the passage to God, to ourselves and our relationships. Of course, we might find a cross. But beyond any cross we encounter, there’s always the hope of resurrection and life – abundant life. Amen.