The Fourth Sunday of Easter, April 25, 2010
Acts 9: 36-43
Psalm 23
Revelation 7: 9-17
John 10: 22-30
This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.
In Eastertide, Thomas is always the Sunday after Easter and today the 4th Sunday is Good Shepherd Sunday. We don't like the idea much. Sheep are stupid and follow along in herded manner, even sometimes led along by vapid Little Bo-Peep, a character of some silliness. Worse, lamb is one of our favorite Christian Easter meals. While it seems true the metaphor doesn't work for us particularly well, it might be that we're not paying good attention to the long, long biblical tradition of comfort, inspiration, and promise the good shepherd and the watched sheep offer us, even now. It may be that we need additional images, but let's hold this one too.
Since the psalmist's time people have taken comfort in "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. He revives my soul. When he's with me, I find comfort, and I will dwell in the Lord's house forever." It's a gentle pastoral image and seems leafy green and calm. Then we start to fuss about the dumb sheep and the bossy shepherd, and we discard the image. Sheep, like babies in a hospital nursery, recognize and distinguish voices clearly. They respond to the one who cares for them individually. If a mom goes into the nursery, and chats with the attending nurse, only the relevant baby will chirp. If all the babies are crying, only the relevant baby will stop, when the right mom arrives and talks. Similarly, if there's a hillside of feeding sheep from many farms, only the right sheep go with the right shepherd. Sheep have fine aural skills, and are not like dumb cows, which have to be poked, nipped at the heel, prodded and shouted at to move forward. There are no sheep wranglers, nor does a shepherd carry a whip. Shepherds don't need to travel in dramatic packs like cowboys to whip the critters along. Shepherds simply lead the sheep back home by calling them, and knowing which are theirs, and the sheep know their own shepherd and follow, seemingly contentedly. Sheep aren't branded with scalding irons, but with washable dye, and knowing the sound of their shepherd, can easily be gathered into their own group and escorted safely home. They are easy enough to care for, that not much attention need be paid to them, and still they get safely home, all the way home.
Unlike cattle, sheep have the capacity to trust, and do. Unlike cowboys, shepherds have the capacity to trust, and do. (If we're going to get sentimental and fussy about leg of lamb, what about "beef: it's what's for dinner," Let's not get put off by either vegetarian or cowboy concerns.) This metaphor is not about the character of sheep and shepherds, but about their genuine, trusting, life affirming, mutually satisfying relationship, to get home safely.
The Acts' story about Peter's healing Tabitha from the dead is an odd interruption in these sheep/shepherd texts. Most obviously is its strikingly parallelism to the story about the healing of Jairus's daughter. Remember Jesus says to her "get up" or "talitha cum." It simply is unclear whether these two accounts got separated out from one common story, with Peter acting in Luke's Acts, rather than Jesus in the other, or whether, as the spell check on the computer says, that Tabitha was intended both times, or there was some other confusion. The story is vivid both times anyway.
Tabitha's healing demonstrates the extent to which the Lord and his agents will go to for sheep. More than finding one who strays away from the flock, caring and protection of a beloved member of the flock means healing such and even raising a beloved sheep to life eternal, or life from death. We are shown reason to rejoice in God's love and protection as exemplified in the shepherd's caring for the sheep-as we celebrate, in Eastertide the gift of Christ's resurrection by which we, his sheep, are promised everlasting life.
The text from Revelation, written in a time of danger and persecution for the Church, carries this point even further. Here Christ is pictured in heaven. The slain Lamb is not a helpless victim, though, but is the one who acts to bring the flock salvation. A throng in white robes appears before the Lamb. Their robes signify their deliverance from tribulation, and their waving palms show their victory over their trials. Those who are saved are a countless multitude, showing access to Jesus, the Lamb of God, is guaranteed for all, from all groups. So great is the joy of all in the crowd, they proclaim, "Salvation belongs to our God, and to the Lamb who sits upon the throne."
Because Revelation was written in a time of persecution, people needed the reassurance that their torture would be washed clean by the action of Christ, by the blood of the Lamb. If we weren't having difficulty with the sheep/shepherd image for other reasons, the idea of blood washing anything clean really does defy our visual imagination. The point is vivid but the image doesn't really work. It is a strong theological assertion, but not much of an ad for a cleanser. Again we are used to visual images for wash products, ads to wash whiter than white, and cleaner than clean. Blood is absurd as a washing ad for us.
And yet, "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not be in want. He revives my soul. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil-for you are with me, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever." Both the Revelation account and this favorite psalm are saying, "for you are with me and SO I will dwell in the house of the Lord, forever."
The point is clear, but we're still uncomfortable with the image. We don't live in a group that follows blindly like sheep. Do you ever pass through a station of talk radio? Often the series of phone calls accelerates from a moderate position to an extreme, with each successive voice attaching itself to the previous and shoving it along a little further. Whether it's an attack on the idea that global warming exists, or that any government health system can deliver as much either as we already have or that everyone needs, the herd mentality is striking to hear. People push the previous caller's point along, and often seem like a herd rushing to race over some cliff of any hold on reason. We can all think of examples of people racing together towards an idea foolishly or sensibly that they themselves had no information about, but simply got riled up and flung themselves together for or against the idea. We hear catch phrases suddenly repeated over a range of people, who don't know each other, or have common background, but the buzz phrases come from all sides. I remember hearing from a wide variety of people, that, "Since the Bible didn't say Adam and Steve, but Adam and Eve" clearly that biblical pronouncement. Talk shows repeated the phrase to people from wide areas, and people responded as a herd. We've all heard a phrase, which suddenly interrupts the flow of a long discussion on a new or difficult topic. No conclusion gets reached, because the conversation is thrown off-track by some demagogue or other fast-talking person's leading people acting strikingly like sheep in a sorry direction.
What is needed is a GOOD shepherd. The good shepherd not only knows the voices and personae of the shepherd's own flock, but the shepherd leads the sheep to safety, even to the safely and joy of eternal life. "The good shepherd leads me along right pathways."
Maybe an additional image or two is needed. People have tried to sell us on Officer Friendly. People have tried to persuade us that the church's officers are our pastors, our shepherds. What has been so damaging about our society's loss of trust and admiration for priests, and their shepherding superior pastors, is that not only do they no longer look much like good shepherds, they look strikingly like wolves in sheep's clothing. We've come to see, in many cases, the image of a pastor as more like the wolf in Red Ridinghood than a good shepherd. The image of the wolf in granny's nightclothes ready to pounce on the sweet innocent Little Red Ridinghood, as dear a lamb as ever made, only emphasizes the tastiness of little lambs. This picture again strains the sheep/shepherd image.
The commentary I read suggested this Native American myth. A nation leader was looking for a good image to give life to the group, some great and powerful animal for strength for the people. The leader saw a mighty deer and said to it, "You are going to show yourself to me, to teach me a lesson to become a symbol for my people. The chief tracked the mighty deer, until the chief tripped and was caught in a huge spider's web. The spider asked the chief why he was running along looking only at footprints, as though he were blind. The chief answered that he was following a mighty deer to learn from the great deer a lesson of strength for his people. The spider offered herself as such a symbol, but the chief said, "But you are small and weak." "Ah, but I am patient, and I watch and wait for people and more to come to me. If your people learn this, they will be strong, and so the spider became a symbol for the Osage nation." Again not a great modern urban image, but the story provides at least another image. Charlotte strengthens this image for us, but Arachne's pride counters it some.
Metaphors are like that. They capture something about the point made, but aren't perfect, one on one, representations. Maps are among the best metaphors, and we rarely consider them as such, but we understand that "an inch represents a twenty-five miles" means that the small piece of paper represents the actual area, the real geography of a real place. We aren't too troubled by the complex assumptions about thick black lines, and other dotted and red ones, or pale blue, green, and light brown. Parallel curved lines in bent circles showing hills don't give much trouble. We want to know how to get there and so we accept the conventions of the cartographers without much fuss. We want better and better maps to be sure, but we accept the need for maps until we decide we want to see for ourselves.
"The Lord is my shepherd; who revives my soul, who comforts me. Surely goodness and mercy will follow me, and I will dwell in your house forever." It's not a perfect map, but it's as persuasive and comforting as a map can be, and will see us through the valley of the shadow of death. Whether the Lord protects Jesus, the Lamb of God, or Jesus is the good shepherd, we are the sheep of their pasture and will dwell in their house forever. Good News.
© Katharine C. Black, 25 April 2010
