John 10:22-30

The Voice of the Shepherd 
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 Last week, the whole world was watching in anticipation, as the College of Cardinals converged on Vatican City to elect a new Pope.
 
After Mass, they entered into conclave, turning over their electronic devices.
  
They had to be completely isolated from the outside world, so that they could begin their deliberations free from all distractions.
 
The cardinals vote until a candidate receives a two-thirds majority. The black smoke issuing from the Sistine Chapel’s chimney signals that this majority has not yet been reached.
 
For the Catholic world, indeed for the whole world, since the Pope is an international figure to whom the world looks for spiritual wisdom and moral guidance, the event is fraught with tension.
 
What kind of Pope will the next one be? Will he continue the agenda of the previous pope, or break from it? Will he be liberal or conservative?
 
A reporter asked Bishop Robert Barron about the most pressing issues for the next Pope. What is it? Immigration, financial corruption at the Vatican, marriage and family?
 
Bishop Barron replied: “The most pressing issue is the Gospel. What I am looking for in the next Pope is someone who declares the resurrection of Jesus in a compelling way.”
 
That is a very appropriate response in our Easter season.
 
We will know soon if the new Pope will meet Bishop Barron’s expectations.
 
Because last Thursday, white smoke rose from the chimney over the Sistine Chapel, signaling that the 1.4 billion members of the Catholic Church have a new leader.
 
Habemus Papam. We have a Pope!
 
His name is Robert Francis Prevost, a Peruvian American, born in Chicago, and receiving his junior high and high school education in Saugatuck, Michigan, just outside of Holland.
In fact, my cousin Bruce, who has preached here before, remembers playing baseball and basketball against the new Pope’s school, St. Augustine’s (which closed in 1977).
 
My cousin’s new claim to fame now is that he probably played against him in school, if, that is, the new Pope played those sports.
 
So we have now the first American pope, who has taken the name Leo XIV.
 
His choice of name may signal his desire to lead the Church through the revolutionary changes of our time—just as Pope Leo XIII did at the dawn of the industrial era.
 
Many of you know that Catholics believe the Pope to be the successor to Peter.
 
You will remember in our Gospel lesson last Sunday that Peter is the one the risen Jesus restored and recommissioned. That is, he sent him out to “feed his sheep.”
 
For this, after all, is what a shepherd does. He cares for the sheep, providing for them food and water and rest.
 
In the Catholic Church, the Pope is seen as the shepherd of all the faithful, following after Peter.
 
Now, whether or not we regard the Pope as the successor to Peter, vicar of Christ, and head of the church, we should all be clear on one thing.  
 
There is only one “Chief Shepherd.” It is Jesus Christ, and all who are commissioned by him to pastor his people are “under shepherds”, subordinate to him, dependent on him and his direction.
 
They truly care for the people entrusted to them only insofar as they lovingly guide them to him.
 
For whoever comes to him will neither hunger nor thirst again. For he guides them to springs of the water of life. In him, his flock will find rest—deep, lasting peace for their souls.
 
Today is Good Shepherd Sunday. The Lord who called us to worship this morning declared himself to be our Shepherd. “The Lord is my Shepherd,” in the words of the well-loved Psalm 23.  
 
The Lord wants to be our shepherd. He wants to show himself to us as the strong, wise, and loving God, who gathers and tends and protects us, just as a shepherd does his sheep.
 
Jesus came to his own. He said of himself: “I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel” (Matt. 15:24).
 
Having come among them, he looked upon them with compassion, for they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd (Matt. 9:36).
 
He came to be their shepherd, as he declared himself to be. “I am the Good Shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep” (John 10:11).  
 
He went in search of his lost sheep, to bring them into his fold, so that there would be one flock, one shepherd (John 10:16).
 
Jesus came to his own, but his own did not receive him. The Jewish leaders in our Gospel lesson did not see in Jesus the Lord their Shepherd.
 
They saw his works, they heard his words, but they refused to recognize him as the One sent to them.
 
It is winter in Jerusalem, and Jesus is walking in the temple, in the portico of Solomon.
 
It is during the Festival of Dedication. We know this festival today as Hannukah.
 
It commemorates the cleansing and rededication of the temple by Judas Maccabeus in 164 BC, after its desecration by the pagan ruler Antiochus Epiphanes.
 
Surely, those who attended the festival hoped for another great deliverance of Israel from the pagans who desecrated the Holy Land, just like the victory of the great warrior Judas Maccabeus.
 
This hope for a deliverer must lie behind the question they posed to Jesus.
 
“How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly.”
 
In the original, the language is stronger. They ask in an angry or frustrated tone:
 
“How long are you going to annoy or provoke us. Are you the Messiah or not?”
 
Perhaps the same tone of frustration is to be heard in the response of Jesus.
 
“I have told you already, and you do not believe.”
 
Unbelief in them is not a matter of the intellect. It is a matter of the will. They don’t believe because they have already made up their mind not to believe.
 
“The works that I do in my Father's name testify to me, but you do not believe…”
 
Jesus’ works spoke louder than words, and yet they still rejected him. He had healed the sick, fed the multitudes, and given sight to the blind.
 
But the issue for them was never proof. It was their hearts—already set against believing.
 
Jesus says they do not believe because they don’t belong. It’s a reversal of what we expect. We often think belief comes first.
 
But here Jesus is describing recognition—that mysterious familiarity that happens when someone calls your name and you know they love you. You hear it in the tone of their voice.

To hear his voice is to recognize the One who knows you and loves you, and then to follow—not because you have to, but because you want to. “My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me.”
 
In a world full of noise, do you set aside time in your day to pray? Can you put your devices down and sit in silence before God, and then ask God to speak to you?
 
You are his sheep, and his sheep hear his voice. So then listen for his voice.
 
And when you hear his voice, step out in faith and follow him.  
 
To follow him is never a wrong decision. To follow him is to entrust yourself to the One who can truly make you feel safe.
 
“I give them eternal life…they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand.”
 
There is such deep assurance in these words. We are safe not because we hold tightly onto Jesus. We are safe because he holds tightly onto us.
 
This is an expression of God’s grace.
 
Remember last week we pointed out that grace demands a reversal of perspective.
 
Religion is for people who are anxious to be good. Religious people ask: how can I be good enough to get into heaven?
 
Grace is for people whose own goodness is only a secondary concern at best. Grace asks: how is God so good that I never have to ask the first question ever again?
 
We are not safe because we hold tightly to Jesus. If that were the case, then we’d all be in trouble! We are safe because he holds tightly to us. The point is not our hold on God, but God’s hold on us. No one can snatch us out of the Father’s hand.
 
Even in doubt, even in suffering, even in wandering in the dark—by his own hand he leads us.
 
Just as a shepherd guides the sheep, so also does he guide us.  
 
He came to his own. The Gospel of John means for us to take this in the most literal sense. The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.
 
You know, Pope Francis will doubtless be remembered for many things—both good and not so good, depending, perhaps, on your political leanings.
 
But what perhaps most stands out for us preachers was his speech, which was so down to earth. The Pope knew how to turn a phrase!
 
He once said to a group of priests: “This is what I am asking of you—be shepherds who have the smell of the sheep.”
 
He meant that pastors—shepherds—like Jesus are to be close enough to their flock to carry their scent.
 
They are not to stand aloof, not to stand above, but rather to stand with: to be present with them in the mud, the mess, and the noise.
 
A young man who wanted to be a pastor approached the great Karl Barth for advice. Here is how Barth replied:
 
“Are you willing to deal with humanity as it is? Humanity today with all its passions, sufferings, faults, and all the rest? Do you like them, these people? Not only the good Christian people, but do you like them as they are? People in their weakness? Do you like them, and even love them? And are you willing to tell them the message that God is not against them, but for them?”
 
If the young man answered “yes,” then he was ready to serve as a faithful “under shepherd” of the Chief Shepherd, who set for us an example.
 
He is not distant. He does not give commands from afar, but calls us by name, walking with us, laying down his life for us.
 
This is what makes him a shepherd, the Good Shepherd—not only because he is powerful, but because he is present with us.
 
Today on Good Shepherd Sunday we have been invited to consider the Lord as our shepherd.
 
But is it possible that the image of a shepherd cradling a baby ewe lamb evokes also motherhood? And if motherhood, then also God’s care for the one she holds in her arms?
 
We want to point this out on this special day in the civil calendar, a day we know as Mother’s Day.
 
Many have attested that the love of a mother for her child is the closest analogue to the love of God for his people.
 
“Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne?” God asks his exiled people in Isaiah, “though she may forget, I will not forget you” (Isaiah 49:15-16).
 
God’s care for both mother and child among his covenant people is found in another memorable verse from Isaiah:
 
“He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young” (Isaiah 40:11).
 
Let these images motivate us to follow the Lord as our Shepherd. Let us also remember on this day when we acknowledge God’s special gift to us in our mothers God’s tender care that God gives to God’s people.
 
Just as a child rests secure in the arms of its mother, so too are we to rest secure under the care of our Shepherd.
 
He holds us close, not as distant rulers do, but as one who walks before us, with us, and behind us, and reassures us with the words—"I will not forget you.”
 
This is the core of the message of Good Shepherd Sunday: that with him, we are never lost, never abandoned, but kept safe and secure, both now and for all eternity. Amen. 

 
 
 




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