Redeemer Lutheran Church

Dear Friends in Christ,

Today is the Fourth Sunday of Easter, also known as “Good Shepherd Sunday”. It is good to have this Sunday every year, because with all that is happening in this world, it’s important to listen to the voice of the Shepherd. That’s what Jesus talks about in our Gospel lesson for today.

No image of the Lord, and his relationship with His people, strikes closer to our heart than the image we see in today’s lessons: the picture of the Lord as our Shepherd and us as his sheep. We read it in this morning’s first lesson where St. Paul charges the pastors with the responsibility of “paying careful attention to all the flock in which the Lord has made you overseers”. We heard it in the second lesson: “The Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd.” And in today’s Gospel lesson Jesus tells us, “My sheep listen to my voice and I know them and they follow me.” We even teach our children to sing “I Am Jesus’ Little Lamb.”

Why do you think this image has such power for us? Perhaps it’s because in a world as troubled as ours, we link sheep and shepherds together with peace and quiet. Psalm 23 says, “He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters”. And when the day has been long and hard, some of us get to sleep by counting sheep. Peaceful and quiet.

Or maybe we like this image so much because of how we think of sheep. My dad used to have a sheepskin on the seat of his old Oliver tractor. The seat was hard metal, but the wool was soft. Wool has the amazing quality of being warm in the winter and cool in the summer. Surely the animal that gave it must be like that: soft and gentle, clean and fresh, without fierce teeth or sharp claws. Jesus, the Lord, is our Shepherd, and we are his sheep.

On our trip to Australia, we saw field after field of sheep. Usually they were just peacefully grazing in a green pasture. Such a tranquil, soothing scene. If only more of us knew how sheep really are, we might have some second thoughts about what it means to be the Lord’s sheep. Laura Ingalls Wilder has an interesting illustration in the book Farmer Boy. The chapter called “Sheep Shearing” describes the process of taking the wool from the sheep. The first thing done is to give each sheep a thorough washing.

You see, all that thick, soft wool picks up a lot of dirt and burrs as the sheep lives from day to day. What comes to us as clean and soft starts out as filthy and muddy. When the sheep have been scrubbed, they must be sheared immediately, because if they aren’t, they’ll get dirty all over again.

Those who have tended sheep know that they have other unpleasant characteristics. Sheep are prone to wander from the flock. The sight of some greener grass catches their attention, and they wander until they find themselves far away. Sheep can also be stubborn, headstrong, willful creatures.

The Bible tells us that we are God’s sheep, God’s flock. And just like sheep in the field, we Christians have an amazing ability to pick up dirt from our surroundings. How often we find our thoughts and words reflecting those of our non-Christian culture! We may not be able to help passing through the valley of the shadow of death, but when we begin to walk like those who are spiritually dead, that’s a peril of our own making — and we should be very much afraid.

When we look at ourselves in the light of God’s Law, we are soon dismayed by the sight of the filth and mess in our life! Instead of luxuriating in the oil the Lord pours over our head — and whatever good things he pours into our cup — we covet the luxuries of this world, never content, always wanting greener pastures, bigger lawns, coveting houses better appointed than the Lord’s own house; or treasuring the boss’s praise and our friends’ envy well above the Lord’s own goodness and mercy. Instead of trusting God to vindicate us in the presence of our enemies, we fear them, smear them, speak all kinds of evil against them, and secretly gloat when we see them stumble. Isn’t it true? And isn’t it also true that every time we gather for worship in the Divine Service, as soon as the name of God is placed on us, we find we must confess our sins.

God’s sheep have a tendency to wander too. Perhaps something hurtful is said to us, maybe by one of God’s people here at church. Or we experience some horrible, shocking event — a sudden death we can’t possibly explain in our understanding of a loving God, a rejection by a loved one that doesn’t make sense when we’ve been committed and faithful. Or maybe we catch sight of greener grass just over the next ridge — those worldly goods that draw us away, a catchier sounding philosophy or an emotionally exciting religion. We wander away from God’s house — become angry with him, lose faith in him, lose confidence that his simple Word and Sacrament are the richest table anyone could ever spread before us. The next thing we know, months or even years have gone by, and we find ourselves alone, without him, maybe without the dear ones he’s given us.

Isaiah said it well: “We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way”. And stubborn? Us? Sadly, yes. When things don’t go our way, we sometimes respond by digging in our heels and forcing others to drag us along. Instead of praying, “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven,” we pray, “My will be done in heaven and on earth.”

We are sheep: dirty, lost, and stubborn. And so serious is our problem that God has taken a radical step to solve it. The Lord Himself, the Shepherd of Israel, took on flesh and became the Lamb. Did you hear the words of John in his Revelation: “The Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd.” Jesus is the Lamb of God. He took away the filth and grime of our sin by washing us in his own pure blood. And when we were lost, without hope and without God in the world, he wandered far from his heavenly home in search of us. His search took him to a lowly virgin in Nazareth, to a humble cave in Bethlehem, and, finally, on a dark and lonely Friday afternoon, to an accursed tree. He conquered our willfulness by yielding his own will to that of the Father — even unto death. Freely, willingly, lovingly he offered himself up for us through the Spirit to the Father.

There is one thing that sheep have going for them: they can recognize their shepherd’s voice. They may have nothing in the way of defensive capabilities and little in the way of brains, but they know enough to hear the shepherd’s voice and follow him. Otherwise, they’re not much good for anything but getting fleeced and sacrificed.

The Shepherd became a lamb. But then, with his resurrection on the third day, the Lamb has become our Shepherd. Good sheep will listen to the voice of their shepherd. And now our Good Shepherd calls us to listen to the promises He has given us in His Word. In fact, He feeds us in the pasture of his Word. He leads us beside the still, deep waters of Baptism: springs of living water, because through this water he gives us life. He satisfies our hunger by giving us the heavenly bread and the cup of life, his own body and blood. Our cup overflows with eternal blessing because we drink of the cup he pours out for us.

He knows each of us as well as any good shepherd knows his own sheep. And the amazing thing is that he still loves us, still feeds us, still leads and guides us through all the perilous ways of this life.

The Shepherd became a Lamb to save us dirty, wandering sheep. Little by little, as we feed on his love and stay with his flock, he breaks the old willfulness and stubbornness. He makes us his servants, who learn to give not only our wool but also, if necessary, our own skin for the needs of others.

When we come together each Lord’s Day, we come together as his flock. He is here, now, as our Shepherd. He speaks, and we listen. He leads, and we follow. And we have his word that he will keep on leading us until that day when we sing his praise in heaven’s glory and he wipes away every tear from our eyes. Praise the Lord for His loving care! Christ our faithful Shepherd is Risen! In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.