Re-claim your sheepiness

I don’t know about you, but I don’t particularly appreciate being called a sheep. There’s a raft of unflattering metaphors around sheep – as clueless and dim; or that phrase ‘sheeple’ – people who mindlessly conform or follow the whims of whatever is supposedly on trend.

My parents built our childhood home on a section next to some council reserve land which was leased to a farmer for sheep grazing. For several years only a number 8 wire fence separated us from our woolly neighbours, and the cry of “Mum/Dad there’s a sheep in the garden” happened every now and again. I liked the sheep, but they were often remarkably stupid. One memorable Saturday lunch we found one sheep staring at us through the dining room glass door, and it must have decided it liked what was on the table because it smashed its way through. They really don’t come across as the sharpest animals.

Today Jesus is talking to the Pharisees, and he paints for them, and us, a picture of a sheep pen, an enclosure. He describes a relationship of nurture and protection by the gatekeeper. “I am the gate” he says. A 1st century Middle Eastern shepherd would often lie across the entrance to the pen at night – literally putting himself on the line to protect his flock.

In the same passage Jesus describes himself as the good shepherd who is in such close relationship with his sheep that they recognise his voice. In the next verse after our reading, verse 11, Jesus talks of this shepherd who will lay down his life for his flock.

But our passage today ends with the beautiful line: “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” Not just life, abundant life.

It’s clear that those who follow the way of Jesus are the sheep. And the sheep in this parable are exemplar, A-grade sheep, who know Jesus’ voice and wouldn’t go near any of the thieves or robbers Jesus mentions in his story. I’m not sure I’m an A-grade sheep, a lot of the time.

As Fleetwood Mac put it, we each have the choice: “you can go your own way”. Jesus the gatekeeper is never coercive, the sheep “come in and go out, and find pasture.” The shepherd is not violent: the sheep can choose to respond to his voice. Despite myself, I know I’m often not taking up that invitation.

When I think about why I struggle with the sheep metaphor, I think it’s about control. I want to believe that I am unique, that I’m not swayed by the world, that I’m not unduly influenced by society or culture or habit. I can be in control of everything, master of my own destiny and able to make decisions for my own well-being and flourishing.

In the moments of lucidity, any honest look in life’s basement would make it clear that’s not true for any of us. All the small things we read, watch, listen to, the big decisions we make about how many hours we work, what job we take, what we study, how much mortgage we might take out – are not decisions that are made in a vacuum but are the result of the pressures of our family history, culture, society, and the relationships we’ve formed. Those are often the some of the thieving, robbing or distracting voices Jesus is talking about. They’re often good things, but within it all, are we allowing the voice of Jesus to be the loudest voice? Or again, from Fleetwood Mac, are we hearing our Good Shepherd saying to us sheep:

Baby, I'd give you my world How can I When you won't take it from me?

I wonder if part of growing in relationship with Jesus is claiming back our sheep-ness. We’re not in control, and this is a Very Good Thing, because in Jesus we are offered that life, life in all its fullness.

I want to share with you something I learned about the feeding of the 5,000 this week, which helped this sheep to remember again that in God’s upside-down kingdom, losing your control is actually the key to gaining it. That reminder, as Matthew put it, "If you seek to save your life, you will lose it; but if you lose your life for My sake, you will find it (Matt, 16.25).

Jesus has made an attempt to get some quiet time in the wilderness after losing his cousin John, but stepping out of the boat those who have heard his voice and seen glimpses of abundant life have followed him there. This is the wilderness, where there’s usually no food, no sustenance, and the disciples are wondering how this enormous crowd is going to be fed. There is a little clue about what this shepherd is about to do, and it comes from Jesus instruction to the disciples to ask the people to ‘sit down on the grass’. 

Sounds a little bit like Psalm 23 in that moment eh?

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.

He makes me lie down in green pastures.

He leads me beside quiet waters.

He restores my soul.

There’s only grass in the wilderness when it’s spring. The Middle Eastern 1stcentury shepherd’s job was to find that grass for his flock in the wilderness, to lead them to a place of safety and abundance.

Yet there’s anxiety in this picture too, and it comes from the disciples. They want to provide for people, and they don’t know how they’re going to do it, yet Jesus has just told them to sort it out, and given them no instruction. I would imagine they also don’t want to lose face with Jesus, and they don’t want to be let down by Jesus. How out of control must they have felt?

Jesus is asking them to trust him in this moment that he, like a Middle Eastern shepherd, is one step ahead of his flock. But instead of treating his disciples like brainless sheep, and solving the problem for them, he empowers them to be able to miraculously share the very small amount with everyone so that, unlike the Israelites in the wilderness who only got just enough for each day, there are 12 baskets left over.

This is what I mean by the beautiful partnership that comes with being in relationship with the Good Shepherd, practicing hearing his voice, and allowing Him to go first. We do this as we apprentice our lives to Jesus and learn to live as He did. In Jesus we have so much power to affect good. Our relationship with Jesus empowers us, it doesn’t sheepify us. It means we can be bold to work with Jesus to bring his kingdom on earth as in heaven.

So I encourage you to take the power that is given to you. Don’t be enslaved by a false sense of powerlessness. That’s what an increasingly hostile world wants you to think. Are you terrified by climate change? Do you despair at global conflict? Do you rage at technology which sucks in people and changes the very nature of truth itself? Turn your eyes upon Jesus and play your part, as small as it seems. Throughout human history what happens when ordinary people let Jesus be is at the helm is amazing.

So just what does this fullness of life that Jesus talks about look like, when people are saying yes to the voice of Jesus the Good Shepherd?

We get a glimpse in our reading from Acts and the picture of the early church in full energetic bloom caught up in the post-Pentecost Holy Spirit driven energy:

42 They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. 43 Everyone was filled with awe at the many wonders and signs performed by the apostles. 44 All the believers were together and had everything in common. 45 They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need. 46 Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, 47 praising God and enjoying the favour of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.

What a beautiful picture that is, and it is still a beautiful picture of Jesus’ people, the church, on a good day. It looks like gathering and celebration. It looks like stretchy family. It looks like miracles. It looks like everyone having enough. It looks like growing.  It looks like abundance.

Today may you hear the voice of the Good Shepherd calling you by name, as he always does. Today may we as God’s people in this place trust in the abundance of life that he offers, and take the power that is offered to us in the Spirit to bring that life to our friends, families, neighbours, community and world. Amen.