Acts 2.42-47; Psalm 23; John 10.1-11a
Nowhere in the Bible is God’s care for us pictured with such an enduring sense of trust than the image of a shepherd caring for sheep. The Bible is like a gallery of shepherd images and landscapes that picture a shepherd’s heart for the flock.
In Genesis, Jacob, near the end of his life, praises God’s care and says, “God has been my shepherd all my life to this day.” In Exodus, the Lord frees the people from slavery in Egypt, guides them through the wilderness for forty years, leads them to the Promised Land. Describing those years, Psalm 77 praises God and says, “You led your people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron.” Another psalm, Psalm 95, invites all of us to see the Lord’s care for us in the same way. “The Lord is our God, and we are the people of God’s pasture and the sheep of God’s hand.”
The meaning of the Lord as shepherd grows deeper as we explore more and more images in the biblical gallery.
David was a shepherd before God chose him to be king; from David’s time on, the kings of Israel and Judah were called ‘shepherds’ to remind them that their mission as leaders was to care for and guide the nation—authority and responsibility. In a parable, Jesus tells of a shepherd who goes on a quest in search of one lost sheep and brings it home rejoicing—courage and care brought together. The prophet Isaiah describes how strength and gentleness come together in God’s shepherding care. “The Lord God comes with might, his arm rules for him…He will feed his flock like a shepherd…carry them in his bosom and gently lead the mother sheep.” Real power is not the ability to kill and destroy; that, according to Jesus in today’s gospel, is the power of the thief, someone who exploits others for personal gain. Real power restores, nurtures, and sustains. Jesus, the Good Shepherd, came that we “may have life, and have it abundantly.”
Probably the most familiar image in the biblical gallery of shepherds is today’s psalm, the 23rd Psalm. The place this psalm holds on faith and spirituality is deep and lively. It’s a simple statement of faith and trust; yet it has depth that holds up to repetition, memorization, and exploration. The closest we might get to sheep is the animal barn at the Red River Valley Fair, but it doesn’t matter. The images of Psalm 23 tell us the truth about God, about the world, and about our life in God.
The psalm, for example, has an abiding confidence in God both in the highs and lows of life. In contentment and joy—green pastures, still waters, soul restored—we see again how the good things in life are gifts from God. In times of distress—death, sorrow, enemies—we are assured that the Lord will guide us through them; hard times and darkness don’t last forever. “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.” That verse, “you are with me” is not only the middle verse of the psalm, it is the pastoral heart of the psalm—the source where the shepherd’s care flows from and the center to which it returns. “You are with me.” For this, and probably more reasons than we have time to name, the 23rd Psalm speaks to our life and our soul.
And notice how the psalm is honest about dark valleys and evil, the threats of the thief that Jesus describes—the one who comes to steal and kill and destroy. When the psalm says, “I fear no evil,” it knows the power of evil is real, not an illusion. The psalm doesn’t say, ‘Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, it’s all good.’ Psalm 23 is more honest than that. It knows there is darkness in the world, that the darkness is not good, and that we will find ourselves contending with it.
There is no promise that believers will be exempt from trouble, hurt, and disappointment; no guarantee we can avoid suffering like we can avoid road construction by taking an alternate route. Darkness is a route we would rather not take, yet the path of our life will take us directly through suffering. We feel the sting of death, grieve over tragedy, try to make sense of events we would never have chosen or asked for. But with the Lord our Shepherd, we can make it through the dark times. When we say, ‘I have no idea how my life ended up here and I’m not sure what’s next,’ Jesus the Good Shepherd is with us, leads us, assures us that nothing will separate us from God’s own love. “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.”
We see that especially when the psalm finds comfort in the shepherd’s rod and staff. These two different tools had two distinct purposes. The staff had a hook on top and was used to reach down and pick up sheep that had fallen into pits, to bring back strays and keep them close: an image of care. The shepherd’s rod was used to defend against predators, to keep wolves and other threats away from the flock: it is an image of safety when danger and threat are real. “Your rod and your staff, they comfort me,” your safety and care.
Anne Lamott, in her book Traveling Mercies, writes about how she was supported by this sort of care in the dark valleys of her life from an early age: her parents’ poor marriage; their alcoholism as she was growing up; her own drinking in her youth. One place Lamott found refuge in all that chaos was at the house of her friend Shelly. Shelly’s mom was a Christian, and her faith was Anne Lamott’s shelter—a place of safety and care where could get her own life back and restore her soul. When life around her was out of control, Anne would escape to Shelley’s house and find a quiet place to spend the night. There, Shelly’s mom would sit beside Anne and recite the 23rd Psalm. “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me. Your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” Lamott’s circumstances hadn’t changed. But she knew she wouldn’t face her fears and trials alone. She was protected and cared for—by Shelly, by Shelly’s mom, and through them, by God—even if only for a little while. God may not eliminate evil or make problems disappear. But we can make our way through the dark times because the Lord our Shepherd is leading us, guiding and protecting us, is with us.
In today’s gospel Jesus says that he is our Good Shepherd. He knows that his sheep—his people, we who belong to him—will face danger. We are not left to fend for ourselves. In Jesus we have a Good Shepherd who is both more powerful and more gentle than any threat. Protected by the shepherd’s rod and staff, we can take the path of life without fear because Jesus the shepherd walked the valley of the shadow of death for our sake and came through it with new and unending life for our sake. In him no evil, no darkness, not even death itself, can prevail. “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly. I am the Good Shepherd.”
Actually, ‘good’ doesn’t quite capture the full meaning and many layers of what Jesus is saying. The biblical word translated here as ‘good’ also means ‘beautiful.’ Jesus is the Beautiful Shepherd. This is good and beautiful in the way that Jesus’ life was so compelling that he attracted followers throughout his ministry.
‘Good and beautiful’ is how people who followed him, filled with the Spirit and responding to his love, loved others as he loved us. One of the reasons Christianity spread quickly in the ancient Roman world was that nobody looked after the sick and the friendless the way Christians did. Disease or epidemic would hit a city, and the healthy citizens would flee for safety out of their own self-interest. But Christians, filled with the self-giving love of Jesus the Good and Beautiful Shepherd, would rush in to care for the people in need.
‘Good and beautiful’ is the picture of the early church in today’s reading from Acts. “All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need.”
‘Good and beautiful’ is the mother Anne Lamott’s friend doing something as simple as reciting a psalm to give respite and refuge in a dark time. ‘Good and beautiful’ is the life that all of us who follow Jesus are called to live for the well-being and good of others. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly. I am the Good [and Beautiful] Shepherd.”
And today, as we explore all the biblical images of shepherd—strength and gentleness, safety and care, restoration and life—we come to see that we are not looking at biblical texts like mere observers in a gallery filled with paintings of distant landscapes. We are participants in God and God in us. The biblical images of shepherd and sheep as describe the inner landscape of our own hearts and lives: to see that good things that are gifts from God; and, in distress, darkness, and doubt, to see that God is with us in the darkness.
Today, all those images come to a focal point in Jesus the Good and Beautiful Shepherd who is with us to lead us and guide us. We can take the path of life without fear under the protection of the shepherd’s rod and staff—strength and gentleness together—against which no evil, no darkness, not even death itself, can prevail. “We are the people of God’s pasture” says Psalm 95, “and the sheep of God’s hand.” And as we come to know the voice of Jesus and listen and follow, we receive abundant life, the full, deep, and lasting life of being forever in the care of God.
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