Shepherd

 

Service of Worship

Eastern Parkway United Methodist Church

April 25, 2021

Rev. Natalie Bowerman, Pastor

 

Let us pray:

O God,
We thank you for this earth, our home;
for the wide sky and the blessed sun,
for the ocean and streams,
for the towering hills and the whispering wind,
for the trees and green grass.

We thank you for our senses
by which we hear the songs of birds,
and see the splendor of fields of golden wheat,
and taste autumn's fruit,
rejoice in the feel of snow,
and smell the breath of spring flowers.

Grant us a heart opened wide to all this beauty;
and save us from being so blind
that we pass unseeing
when even the common thorn bush
is aflame with your glory.

For each new dawn is filled with infinite possibilities
for new beginnings and new discoveries.
Life is constantly changing and renewing itself.
In this new day of new beginnings with God,
all things are possible.
We are restored and renewed in a joyous awakening
to the wonder that our lives are and, yet, can be. Amen.

 

John 10: 11-18

11“I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. 12The hired hand is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep. So when he sees the wolf coming, he abandons the sheep and runs away. Then the wolf attacks the flock and scatters it. 13The man runs away because he is a hired hand and cares nothing for the sheep.

14“I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep 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 are not of this sheep pen. I must bring them also. They too will listen to my voice, and there shall be one flock and one shepherd. 17The reason my Father loves me is that I lay down my life—only to take it up again. 18No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down and authority to take it up again. This command I received from my Father.”

 

A Message

“Shepherd”

 

 

I began my very first big girl pastor job just a few months after I graduated from seminary. It was the middle of September in 2012. I had two minimum wage jobs, one a Macy’s and one at Sears, plus an unpaid internship as a chaplain at Strong Hospital. Sean and I were still living in a little one bedroom apartment in Rochester with communal laundry in the basement that you needed a bunch of quarters to operate. It was laundry night. I had just shlepped the hamper down to the basement and back up, and settled down in front of my computer for a long night of surfing the internet and looking at funny pictures of cats when I suddenly noticed that there was a notification on my cell phone: a voicemail from a 315 number that I didn’t recognize. I listened to it and I heard this “NATALIE, THIS IS DICK BARTON, DISTRICT SUPERINTENDENT IN THE FINGER LAKES REGION. CALL ME IMMEDIATELY.” Well snap.

 

I called Dick back right away and he explained to me that there was an unusual appointment situation that he wondered if I could help with. Two very small, very rural churches deep in the Finger Lakes were going to be without a pastor in just a few weeks because the woman who was serving them was having a hard time and needed to step away from her work. Dick said he knew it was super short notice, but did I think I could part from my current employment and take on something new in the ministry? I enthusiastically said yes, I furnished resignation letters to Macy’s and Sears that I happily shoved in my bosses faces, I bought an alb and a new pair of big girl dress shoes to go with it, and prepared to step into two pulpits.

 

It was an adventure. One of the two churches, Vine Valley, was in a tiny town called Middlesex that was a vacation community right on Canandaigua Lake. The church was walking distance to a beach and swimming spot, and people drove to town in their RVs in May, parked them on the green, and quintupled church attendance in all the warm, sunny months. Vine Valley is small but mighty. They have a single board leadership model that keeps the business side of things afloat. They played their hymns off of a computer because no one knew how to play the piano. They loved to sing, and on the warmest days in the summer we worshiped on the beach and several people brought their dogs with them.

 

There was one more thing that made Vine Valley stand out. In every other church I’ve served, when you walk into the sanctuary, the center focal point is the cross. Usually a big one, like ours, that you can light up. Beautiful and powerful. But Vine Valley was unique. They didn’t have a cross front and center. They had this painting: the painting depicting Jesus as the good shepherd. When you parked in “your pew”, sat down, and looked front and center for all the action in worship, your eyes were constantly on this painting. The people who attended regularly had spent hundreds of hours studying it and could point out tiny nuances that I had missed the first few glances.

 

Just look at this painting. Look at the details. The picture tells you a story that transcends words. What do you see? What do you notice first?

 

The first thing I notice is the green pastures and still waters in the background. God promises to lead us to them in Psalm 23.

 

The first detail my daughter noticed was the baby lamb that Jesus is holding in his arm. They’re looking at each other so sweetly.

 

I notice that one sheep in the very front is eating. “You prepare a table before me.” It’s right there.

 

I see one sheep, standing right next to Jesus, intently looking up at him.

 

I see several other sheep following Jesus but not looking at his face or attempting to make eye contact. Do you think they’re less interested in Jesus? Or do you think they’re so familiar with their shepherd that they feel no need to look for him as long as they hear his voice?

 

I see one sheep looking up. “I lift up my eyes to the mountains—where does my help come from? ² My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.” (Psalm 121) Where do you look that reminds you of God?

 

I see some of the sheep looking at each other. Do they find comfort not only in their Shepherd, but in one another? In their closest friends? Do they feel better when they see each other’s faces? Do they feel like they’re not quite sure what to do all the time and they need to see what the other sheep are doing?

 

I see a little gathering of sheep over by the river, seemingly not paying attention to Jesus and not walking with him. Why do you think they’re hanging out over there separated from the flock? Are they separated from the flock? Are they just enjoying the sun and getting a cool drink before they catch up with the other sheep? Or do they have a different shepherd? Do they have no shepherd at all?

 

And the last detail I point out to you, one that I always catch, is the one black sheep tucked next to Jesus. Do you think it bothers him that he’s different? Do you think the other sheep treat him like an outsider, like “the black sheep”? Do you notice how he finds protection in Jesus?

 

Just soak in all this rich detail. Look at all these different kinds of sheep in Jesus’ midst. Is there one particular sheep you identify with? Are you in Jesus’ arms? Are you closer to Jesus, or walking further away? Are you looking at Jesus, or depending on your ears to tell you what your eyes can’t reliably see? Are you close to the flock, or further off? Do you need nourishment or refreshment right now? Do you feel like an outsider who needs extra care? Do you look at the other sheep for reassurance? Do you find comfort in your surroundings as well as in your shepherd?

 

I have nothing against the cross being the focal point in this or any sanctuary. It’s a universally recognized faith symbol, and it tells a story about how our faith transforms death and suffering into hope and life. But I really love this painting. And, in general, it’s a real gift to us as Christians that our faith has inspired such a wealth of art. It would be a shame not to spend some time every once in a while diving into it. The art tells us so very much.

 

So does the Word. The Gospel message this morning reminds us that Jesus is the Good Shepherd. He says this to an agrarian audience, to a group of men that have been around shepherds and sheep all their lives. It’s a very familiar image. Yet, a lot of people in Jesus’ time didn’t have the highest opinion of shepherds, because they associated them with one specific kind of shepherd that Jesus brings up: the hired hand. The disciples saw the hired hands and judged them harshly for being essential workers who worked long and odd hours for a very low wage. Since many of us have been there, and we’ve survived this pandemic because of the labor of those who have stayed in those low wage essential jobs, let this be as good a reminder as any not to judge.

 

Still, there’s another dynamic to the hired hand that Jesus warns us about—a “hired hand” in your life feigns interest in you for a temporary reward or because they’re expected to, and takes off as soon as it’s no longer convenient to stick around. We’ve had these kinds of people in our lives. Who’s had that role in your life? For some of us it was a bad friendship. Or an unsupportive spouse or partner. For some of us it was a parent, or a teacher, or someone else that we hoped would take care of us but couldn’t and didn’t.

 

Who are we looking to for comfort, who are we following, who are we trusting in, that we shouldn’t? What other voices are getting in our heads right now and getting in the way of Jesus’ voice? Who, or what, leads us astray? Is it a voice at work or school? Is it something destructive you learned growing up? Is it an addiction, or a temptation, or an idol? Is it money, or success, or popularity, or romance, or politics? Is it something you someone taught you about God that filled you with fear, judgment, or self-loathing instead of comfort and love?

 

The world is full of hired hands. The hired hands work out great for a short time, so we put way more stock in them than we should. They help us to build a farm to call home, but it’s a fundamentally flawed farm. An unjust farm, one where that vulnerable baby sheep isn’t cared for, and one where that black sheep--whether singled out for its race, nationality, sex, sexuality, gender identity, social class—is left out on the margins instead of tucked closest to Jesus for safety.

 

Jesus’ voice is your gut instinct talking to you, and his voice always stands out. Jesus assures us that we will always recognize his voice over the drones of the hired hands. When he calls, we know it. We need to trust what we hear from him. When we see something unjust, we need to speak up. When we see another sheep in peril, we need to help. There’s plenty of nourishment for the whole flock.

 

Amen.

 

 

 

I invite you to receive the benediction:

Go now with your trust in the good shepherd,
and let us love, not just in words,
but in truth and action.
Believe in the name of Jesus Christ,
and love one another, just as he has commanded us.

And may God be at your side, even in valleys of death.
May Christ Jesus be the cornerstone of your life.
And may the Holy Spirit abide in you
. . . and tend you with love and mercy all the days of your life.