The “good” shepherd
(5/11/03)
When I was a child,
my Uncle Russell managed The Union Theatre in Anawalt, West
Virginia—the little town where I grew up. So I got to see most
every movie that came to town. The Union Theatre got mostly cowboy
movies. Lots of cowboy movies, it seemed to me, were about the bad
blood between cattle ranchers and sheep ranchers.
In those movies,
the cattle ranchers were always noble, upstanding, law-abiding
citizens who lived in decent, well-kept ranch houses and did their
best to “do the right thing.” Sheep ranchers, on the other hand,
were usually disreputable, desperate, land-grabbing rogues whose only
purpose seemed to be breaking the law and annoying the cattle
ranchers.
The cattle
ranchers always had pressed shirts and little string ties and shiny,
leather boots. The sheep ranchers were dirty and unshaven and were
constantly casting lascivious looks at the cattle ranchers beautiful
girlfriends.
So, in Sunday
School, I had some problems identifying with Jesus as the Good
Shepherd. In the little colored pictures we got of Jesus, the Good
Shepherd, he looked more like a cattle rancher than a sheep rancher.
His flowing white and crimson robes were spotless and his hair and
beard were neat and perfectly groomed. The truth was, if it hadn’t
been for the beard, Jesus would have looked more like a cattle
rancher’s beautiful girlfriend than anything else.
I just didn’t get
it….
***
Shepherds are
romanticized these days. That’s probably because most of us have
never met a shepherd. We tend to think of shepherds as humble,
gentle, dedicated, somewhat dreamy characters who rescue sheep and
commune with nature. More often than not, we think of shepherds as
being musical folks—playing little flutes to their sheep—wearing
sandals and soft, hand made clothing.
The truth is,
shepherds in Jesus’ day were much more like sheep ranchers than
cattle ranchers. According to Alan Culpepper, a well-respected New
Testament scholar, “shepherding was a despised occupation at
the time.” Though we have a rather romantic view of
shepherds, Culpepper goes on to say, “…in the first
century, shepherds were scorned as shiftless, dishonest people who
grazed their flocks on other people’s land.” Another
scholar, John Pilch, points out in his book The Cultural World of
Jesus that shepherds were considered “unclean” by observant
Jews of the day because of their violation of property rights and
their neglect of their families by being away from home for long
periods of time.
On the other hand,
most people I know don’t think very highly of sheep. Sheep are
thought of as cowardly, dumb and stubborn all at once. Calling
someone “sheepish” usually means they are too timid and fearful
to stand up for themselves. “Wool gathering” is a waste of time.
Comparing people to “sheep” implies they will mindlessly follow
the leader and not think for themselves. And sheep are so
uninteresting and boring counting them is almost guaranteed to put
you to sleep.
However, in first
century Palestine, sheep symbolized something remarkably different
than they symbolize for us. The highest virtue in the Mediterranean
world of Jesus was honor. “Honor” was so valued
that it was vital to maintain it even to the point of death. An
honorable person in that culture would face death in silence, without
complaint. John Pilch, again, writes that “while being shorn or
even prepared for slaughter, the sheep remains silent and does not
cry. This is how Isaiah describes the ideal servant of the Lord:
‘like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that
before its shearers is silent, the servant of Yahweh does not open
his mouth.’’ “
Sheep came to be
the animals that most clearly symbolized “honor” in Jesus’
world. In fact, it was the silent, suffering servant of Isaiah—the
figure so like a sheep—that came to be identified with Jesus in the
early Church. Jesus is, after all, “the lamb of God.”
***
The 4th
Sunday of Easter every year is “Good Shepherd Sunday”. I’ve
pretty much run out of things to say about shepherds and sheep. And
since I don’t know any shepherds or sheep, I don’t get any new
material year to year. The cowboy movie image is new this year—but
that was scraping the bottom of the barrel, believe me. I should
probably stop now, move on to the Nicene Creed and cut my losses….
But there is
something in today’s gospel to wrestle with before we do that.
Listen: I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must
bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be
one flock, one shepherd.
I don’t
talk much about “evangelism”. I don’t talk much about inviting
those who “do not belong to this fold” to join our community. And
since I don’t have anything new to say about sheep and shepherds,
this is perhaps the time to talk about “evangelism.”
A few years ago,
there was a survey by the Gallop Poll people that revealed that
Episcopalians tend to invite someone to church every nine years.
That’s a
remarkable statistic. I’ll give you a moment to consider that and
see how you fit into the Gallop Poll.
I’m a part of a
group called The Mastery Foundation. I went to one of the Mastery
Foundation’s workshops for people who minister in 1987. Since then
I’ve been active with the Mastery Foundation. I now lead the
workshop I attended 16 years ago and I’m one of the 12 members of
the Mastery Foundation’s Board of Directors.
For 16 years I’ve
heard about what the Mastery Foundation calls “enrollment”. And
until last week I didn’t “get” what enrollment means. I
thought it meant “asking people to take four days and pay nearly
$500 to do the workshop.” And I’ve been hesitant for the most
part to do that. I hate to “ask people to do things.” I feel like
I’m imposing, like they’ll think I’m some kind of fanatic, like
I’ll be implying something’s missing from their life.
But just last week,
at a workshop I was helping to lead in Maryland, one of the other
leaders said this: Enrollment is an invitation that enables
someone to discover the full possibility and vitality and commitment
of their life.
All that time—16
years—I’ve thought “enrollment” was about getting people to
“enroll” in the workshop. Instead, I now realize, “enrollment”
means “enrolling” people in the fullness of their own lives.
What a difference
that makes. And it only took me 16 years to understand it! That’s
seven more years than it takes the average Episcopalian to invite
someone to church!
John Wesley—the
Anglican priest whose followers formed the Methodist Church—used to
ask people: HOW DOES IT GO WITH YOUR SOUL?
Evangelism isn’t
about getting people to come to St. John’s and become
Episcopalians. Evangelism is about “enrolling” people in the
health of their soul and the fullness of their lives. And we are not
only “called” to do that—it is what God intends us to
do.
At the first
meeting of each of the Discernment Groups we’ve been creating for
over a year now, we ask people four questions as their homework. The
fourth question is this: “how responsible are you willing to be for
the experience and well being of the others?”
That’s the
question I want to leave you with—for your home-work and your
SOUL-work this week. HOW RESPONSIBLE ARE YOU WILLING TO BE FOR THE
FULLNESS OF THE LIVES OF OTHERS? Are you willing to ask someone this
week—in whatever way make sense to you—“how goes it with your
soul?” Are you willing to be open and concerned and attentive to
those who are not of this fold? Whether you invite anyone to church
or not, are you willing to invite someone to a deeper relationship
with you and with God? Are you willing to let someone know that God
loves them in a way that can make their lives more abundant, more
wondrous, more real?
I’ll be asking
myself all that this week. I’ll be wresting with that along with
you. I speak to you of God’s love for us. But do I speak to others,
outside this fold?
And will I?
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