Welcome to the Knox Talks blog. Here you can find recent and past sermons relating scripture to a wide variety of topics. I would like to thank Shelley Rose for transcribing my notes into text for the blog.
The Good Shepherd
Scripture: 1 Samuel 17:32-37 John 10:11-18
Our lesson today about Jesus the Good Shepherd is one that people know, even when they haven’t heard it, and at the very least, from all the Victorian artwork inspired by it.
We’re careful with it in the 21st century for a variety of reasons: we’re not agricultural anymore; people in Ottawa have more appreciation for well-trained sheep herding dogs than they have for the life of a traditional shepherd; and Biblical scholarship teaches us to be careful of John’s gospel.
As I mentioned to the last Bible study class, in Lori’s class at the Toronto School of Theology, a famous scholar, German Theologian Heinz Gunther said to Lori’s first year New Testament Class: “And there may even be authentic sayings of Jesus in John’s gospel”, which caused many of her classmates from Knox to walk out of the lecture in protest. That was a fairly Evangelical class.
This perhaps outlines the problem: lessons from John are popular with the Evangelical movement; they are often seen as sentimental and they are challenged by liberal scholars.
The thing is, John’s gospel is more of a theological treatise than a history. A Gospel was never supposed to be history. As we understand it in the 21st century, the point of a gospel is to share good news, develop understanding and to encourage people to be inspired by the teachings of Jesus.
John’s is the last gospel written and it comes from a particular perspective. It is a spiritual statement about who Jesus was and is. It is a statement of faith and it gives us a profound insight into what we call the Johannine community, a branch of early Christianity that was seeking a “higher way”, a path of spiritual enlightenment and truth.
One of the things it does is to draw on human realities to point out divine truths.
The Good Shepherd is a great case in point. Think about the number of stories we hear, here in Ottawa, about people who end up going through the ice trying to save their dogs. The ice has been so bad this past year that we roll our eyes at the foolishness. Isn’t a human life worth more than a dog’s? But some people even die to save their pets. It makes no logical sense.
But emotionally, it makes a lot of sense. You are responsible for this animal. You let it get out too far on thin ice and you have to save this loving creature that trusts you. There may not even be any logic involved: you just do what has to be done and chide yourself afterwards for being stupid; if there is an afterwards.
This lesson about the Good Shepherd is all about a deep personal relationship. The hired hand is rejected outright. He’s in an economic relationship; that stupid sheep isn’t worth the minimum wage he’s getting, he’s not going to chase that wolf, he’ll just fill in the triplicate form for Wolf Depredation losses. But the good shepherd actually cares, has a relationship, and will risk his life to save the sheep.
The first hearers of this probably had David, the Shepherd Boy, in mind when this example was used. The lesson today is David bragging to King Saul about his prowess as a shepherd, in saving lambs from the jaws of lions and bears.
I have a very mixed feeling as I read this. We have no evidence that David was missing any fingers – grabbing the jaw of a lion or bear is very risky behaviour, even when the animal’s mouth is full of struggling lamb – this young man was trying to impress the king with his ability to take on Goliath. He was probably angry because his older brother had just accused him of abandoning the sheep so he could visit the battlefield, where things were more exciting.
So, part of me thinks that David was exaggerating, just a bit. He was obviously good with his sling and his staff, so he could pick on the predators from a safer distance, but I also recognize that someone small in size can be quite intimidating when outraged and a lion or bear might very well back off if David came at him with enough fury, some well thrown stones and a big stick. A lamb dinner isn’t worth a broken nose.
And of course, David eventually proved himself to be a capable warrior and a good general. He was declared to be beloved of God, despite all his faults, and Jesus was called the Son of David on Palm Sunday during the triumphal entry, not only with the aim of claiming royalty but also with the aim of attaching some of those other attributes: David, who was so close to God, who knew the heart of God so well as to write most of the Psalms and Jesus, who was even closer to God according to John.
And in that way, we know that John agrees with the other gospels. Jesus claimed a very close, loving relationship with God, the creator. He wasn’t being exclusive about it in the other three gospels, the way he seems to be in John’s, but he was indeed claiming that God loves us.
That was as radical a statement in the first Century as it is in the 21st century.
In those days, the Pagans believed in many gods, most of whom ignored humans most of the time, or treated them like toys when they noticed. Getting the attention of a god or goddess was hard – it took expensive sacrifices – and you didn’t always get the result you were praying for.
In the Jewish culture, which firmly believed in only one God, many considered God to be just as distant and uninterested, except to the degree that the Chosen People had a special relationship as a nation which was often expressed as responsibility or even suffering, rather than favour, while others considered God to be alert and attentive but highly judgmental, in constant need of appeasement: an angry God who needed to be satisfied with a strict life and lots of sacrifices.
Today isn’t much different: there aren’t so many Pagans around; there are lots of people who don’t think that God exists at all; and for those who are willing to consider that maybe there is a God, their image could be quite remote and disconnected, or more of an impersonal spiritual force; creative, yes, but not necessarily involved. Like an old girlfriend of mine who imagined God as a chemist who wandered off and left the test tube of life boiling by itself. And of course, there are still many people who see God as judgmental and harsh; they are good at getting publicity.
The image of the Good Shepherd, ready to die for his flock, is still a radical one: it speaks of a loving God, a creator who cares about each of us.
And as much as John’s gospel is theology rather than history, he’s got the measure of Jesus’ message very well: Jesus is telling us that God is not distant or angry; God is loving, and cares for us at least as much as a dog owner willing to go out on the ice to save Fido.
I’ll admit, that’s not as poetic as the image of the Good Shepherd but for Ottawa in 2024 where we have more dogs than sheep, it makes more sense for us and maybe we’ll remember it.
Amen.