If we’d used the psalm appointed for today, we would have heard these famous words:
The Lord is my shepherd:
therefore I shall lack nothing.
He makes me lie down in green pastures;
and leads me beside still waters.
He refreshes my soul;
and guides me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil; for you are with me,
your rod and your staff comfort me.
You prepare a table for me
in the face of those who trouble me;
you have anointed my head with oil
and my cup runs over.
Surely your goodness and mercy
will follow me all the days of my life:
and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.
Psalm 23
It’s a wonderful psalm, and one that has given comfort and hope to generations of anxious or grieving people. Though it speaks in terms of a rural idyll, far removed from most modern people’s experience, it’s still the psalm most people know, and choose to have read, especially at funerals.
Our Gospel this morning echoed the imagery of Psalm 23, for in it we heard Jesus describe himself as a shepherd, ‘My sheep hear my voice, I know them, and they follow me’, and in last week’s Gospel, we heard his charge to Peter: ‘Feed my sheep’. Jesus was talking to people 2000 years ago who lived in a pastoral setting, but isn’t it interesting how powerful that metaphor of sheep and shepherd has remained down the centuries, and how we still respond to it today? Despite the fact that most of us live in urban surroundings, and have little to do with animal husbandry, somehow it still represents for us the need we have for someone to guide us, nourish us, protect us. Throughout his ministry, the disciples and other people followed Jesus because this was exactly what they, too, needed: some were sick, some confused, some anxious, but all were searching for healing, direction and hope.
There are so many searching people in the world today, people hungering for instruction, people looking for a direction and purpose in life. We may talk of living in a secular and materialistic society, but if you go into any bookshop, you will see shelves full of books on self-help, on fringe and new-age religion, and on the supernatural and the occult. The need for meaning in life is as great as ever, and the big questions are still with us.
We still worry about our children and their futures; we still feel worthless because we have no employment; we still suffer sickness, and ultimately face death, and we still have to face the agonizing realisation, that the more we love, the greater the pain of separation and loss will be. Then there are the wider questions: how we should behave towards other people; what we should be aiming for in life and whether material things can give real happiness. Why is there suffering in the world? Is there a God, and if there is, what is he like?
Well it’s easy enough to ask questions like these, but where can people find real, lasting answers? If we’d started our Gospel reading a little earlier in the chapter, we’d have heard Jesus described himself as ‘The Good Shepherd’, the one who would lead his flock of followers into safety and righteousness. But he also warned them that they would meet with false shepherds who would seek to lead them astray. We need guidance, but how can we tell the difference between good shepherds and bad ones?
We live in a complex and uncertain world; what we know and believe seems constantly challenged by new ideas and discoveries. But the disciples and other people around Jesus also lived in a time of uncertainty and transition. Their country had been occupied by an alien force, the Romans. The religion that was the basis of their state was only just tolerated, and their way of life was under frequent threat. So they came to Jesus for guidance; he taught them, and we have many examples of his teaching throughout the Gospels. But what can we find in his teaching that might help us to identify a Good Shepherd?
Well I think we can start by considering the two great commandments that Jesus gave us: love God, and love your neighbour as yourself. For Jesus, loving God meant relating to him as Father and drawing close to him. Formal religion would provide the basis for this, and Jesus often reminded people of the Judaic Law, but it must never become a straightjacket. His teaching that ‘the Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath’ can be applied to all aspects of religious life, and it suggests that a Good Shepherd is one who is comfortable with God and knows him personally; one for whom loving God is about relationship rather than about rigid rules and regulations. A Good Shepherd is one whose message is life-enhancing, not life-denying.
And loving God is conditioned by loving your neighbour; as the Sermon on the Mount and the parable of the Good Samaritan show us. So it would seem, that a Good Shepherd is someone who is sincerely concerned about the well-being of others, and who reaches out to others whoever they are, without making distinctions about race or worthiness. Good Shepherds don’t pit one section of the church or community against another, stirring up conflict and driving people away. Instead they work to dismantle the walls that keep us apart, speaking words that gather us together, and bring healing, reconciliation and support, instead of distrust, separation, and abandonment..
The last words of the commandments – love your neighbour ‘as yourself’ – also suggest to me that a Good Shepherd would be someone who is at ease in themselves, not out of complacency or indifference to their own failings, but because they are secure in the knowledge that God loves us as just we are, with all our faults and inadequacies, and that if we open our hearts to him, we will, finally, be perfected.
And I think there are other aspects of Jesus’ teaching that can give us guidelines. If you look at the way Jesus spoke, you can see that a lot of the time he told parables without explanations, and, as in today’s Gospel, often avoided direct answers to questions. For Jesus wanted to challenge his hearers, to make them think for themselves; to work out their own solutions. We can’t run away from life’s dilemmas by following a neat set of rules, and so a Good Shepherd would be someone who, grounded in faith, faces up to difficult decisions, works through to their own conclusions, and then enables others to do the same.
My final thoughts today about Good Shepherds, is that, like Jesus they are people who walk with us in the dark valleys. When we are facing the most terrible things that life can offer: sickness, bereavement, the loss of hope, comfort does not come from assurances that everything will be all right or from platitudes that try to explain why everything that happens is God’s will. Comfort comes from the simple presence of companions who are willing to sit alongside us in our darkest hours, to walk through the darkness with us, and to rejoice with us when some small glimmer of light finally begins to shine. Good Shepherds share despair and danger with others, even at the risk of their own safety.
There’s a story of a tourist who was walking in the highlands of Scotland when a storm suddenly blew up. The wind howled and snow started to whirl around the frightened man. Instinctively he began to hurry down the hill, and was heading for a hollow below him, when he met a flock of sheep, guided by an old shepherd struggling up the hill past him. ‘Where are you going?’ he asked anxiously, ‘Surely the sheep would be safer down in the hollow than on the exposed hillside, and you’re too old to be going up there in this.’
‘I am their shepherd,’ replied the old man, ‘Where I lead, they will follow. But if the sheep go into the hollow, drifts will cover them, and they will die, only on the open hillside, facing the storm, with me to keep them together, will they have any chance of survival.’
Trusting in God will not guarantee us an easy path through life; it won’t save us from all dilemmas and difficulties, but it will promise us that we will never be alone. Jesus, our Good Shepherd will be with us through life’s storms, guiding us, protecting us and, in the end, bringing us through safely into his everlasting life. As we heard today in our Gospel, if we follow his way, no-one will be able to snatch us out of his hand, and like the psalmist of old, we will walk in the paths of righteousness, and lack nothing.
Amen.
Carol Hoare.