Cathedral Sermons
4th Sunday after Easter, Anzac Day April 25th, 2010
Readings: Acts 9: 36-43; Revelation 7: 9-17; John 10: 22-30
This Fourth Sunday in Easter is known as Good Shepherd Sunday.
When I think of a shepherd I think of a good Kiwi bloke, in gumboots, stubbies, a black singlet and a dryzabone hat. He works on green and undulating pastures in the Waikato or King Country whistling to his black and white collie. Together they work to encourage a bunch of reluctant and uncooperative romnie sheep through a gate and into the next paddock. Or putting his skills to the test in a time trial trying to get six confused and anxious sheep into a two meter square pen and shut them in behind the wooded gate. It is a gendered image, I know, but then stereotypes so often are.
But this iconic New Zealand stereotype is a long way from the image John the Evangelist had in mind when he composed this morning’s gospel. Shepherding imagery is a common throughout the Hebrew bible and other literature from the Ancient Near East. In the New Testament it is used almost exclusively as a metaphor, not of bounty and provision in a sub tropical climate, but of care and protection in the face of real and imminent danger. Far from my image of the great southern shepherd and his dog, the Palestinian shepherd worked alone, was nomadic, wearing a heavy cloak and carrying only a rod and staff to protect the flock and a bag for food. The shepherd spent long hot days moving the sheep and goats in their care around the dry and arid lands in search of food and water. In the cavernous deserts, safe valleys for walking could quickly become flooded in a sudden downpour of rain. The danger of the valley of the shadow of death was real and never far away. The animals in the shepherds care were under constant threat from the elements, wild animal and thieves. They were effectively helpless, reliant on their shepherd for food, water and protection.
Today’s gospel is taken from Chapter 10 of John’s Gospel - a chapter running over with shepherding imagery. Jesus portrays himself repeatedly as the Good Shepherd, elaborating on the metaphor in detail.
Our passage this morning opens with a question to Jesus in the temple, from a group of Jews: Not Jesus followers, but those who seek to challenge and to trick him. “Are you the Messiah?” they ask. “Tell us plainly.”
Jesus responds simply and directly. “I have told you and you do not believe.” He goes on to explain. “You do not believe, because you do not belong to my sheep. My sheep hear my voice. I know them and they follow me.”
Jesus is the Good Shepherd, we are his sheep.
“My sheep hear my voice. I know them and they follow me.”
Imagine if you will that you are at home on a Tuesday evening. Enjoying your dinner and the phone rings. Down the line you head a voice you would know anywhere. “Hello, how are you?” it says or perhaps simply “Hi, It’s me.”
Be it a brother or sister, parent or child or spouse, or a dear friend you have not heard from in a couple of weeks – there are some voices we would know anywhere, at any time day or night. The person you think of in this story is probably someone you have, or have had a close relationship with.
Someone whom you know and by whom you feel known.
It is this kind of loving, knowing, intimacy that Jesus is talking about. Jesus is the good shepherd. We are his sheep. We hear his voice. He knows us. And we follow him.
It strikes me that the most challenging part of this message for many Christians today is not following Jesus, but hearing Jesus voice. Making out Jesus voice above the cacophony of sound we hear every minute of every day.
We are bombarded hour by hour by sights and sounds on our TV’s, radios and the internet. Our helpful telecommunications devices can become addictive and invasive in our homes and families.
Like stay dogs at a whistlers convention, we can find it can be very difficult to work out which call to follow.
But Jesus is unequivocal – we are known. Those who belong in his fold hear his voice. There is only one shepherd. There is only one voice. The care and protection that a shepherd offers her sheep is ours from Jesus and from God. Jesus and the father are one.
We, like the sheep are vulnerable to threats, to the evils of violence, poverty, oppression, abuse, injustice, exclusion, and dehumanization. Today of all days we are aware of that. This Anzac morn some years after one of the most senseless events in New Zealand history, people around our nation gather in war memorial halls at cenotaphs to remember the horrors of war – the evil which generation after generation throughout history has inflicted on each other. But we do not gather simply to remember the horror of war. We do not simply acknowledge the vulnerability of the sheep. We gather to listen again to the voice of the Good Shepherd.
I am fascinated by the cult of Anzac day that is developing in our society. I have observed in the past few years a growing interest in Anzac commemorations. As the numbers of returned service men and women drop each year, growing numbers of kiwi’s young gather each year to remember – Lest we forget. Pilgrimage to Anzac Cove in Gallipoli is becoming a standard part of the young kiwi’s OE. But what is it about? What are we seeking? A sense of connection with the past? Identity and a sense of belonging to a story greater than our own? The opportunity to give thanks for our good life? For God’s care for and protection of us as individuals and as a nation.
As fewer and fewer New Zealanders attend church regularly, many not even at Christmas or Easter, I think Anzac Day has become a chance to experience all these things which begin to lack in our lives.
Anzac services offer in many ways something which we as Christians experience weekly as we gather to worship the Good Shepherd. who knows his sheep, and offers acceptance and identify. In our Eucherist service this morning we will give thank for the history of salvation which connects us to previous generations, we will give thanks for the blessings of our lives, we will invite God into our pain, seeking forgiveness and healing for our past. And we will look forward to sure and certain hope of a better and brighter future, offered by Jesus Christ, the Good Shepherd, who laid down his life to protect his sheep, who promises, resurrection and eternal life.
Let us, who have heard this truth and who believe, take time then to listen afresh for Jesus voice. Let us take time to listen for that which is good, beautiful and praiseworthy in our society and in our lives. Let us listen for the voice which offers peace, and reconciliation, healing, liberation and release. As we hear the call of the Good Shepherd let us be beacons of his love, in our homes, families, schools, communities and work places this week and always.