Who would not want to be be where He is?

      Our Gospel lesson this week, the fifth Sunday of Easter, is, unfortunately, very familiar to most of us.  It is one of those well-chosen suggested passages for funerals.  Even if you have not been an active Episcopalian, you can still hear this passage when Hollywood does funerals using our rite.  Of course, when we gather for a funeral, our chief focus is pastoral.  We are trying to mourn with and support the family over the death of a loved one even as we remind ourselves of God’s promises in the midst of such hurt.  We specifically remind ourselves that death is but a horizon and the limit of our sight and that God has promised we will see our loved ones who believe in Him again, despite how the finality of death appears. 

     Today, though, we will take a look at the passage with a different set of eyes, a different focus, if you will.  If I do my job well, today, it will change the way you hear the passage in the future, even at funerals.

     Just to remind ourselves where we are in John’s Gospel, we are back on Maundy Thursday.  It may seem odd for us to go back in time, back before the Resurrection of our Lord, while we are in the middle of the season of Easter, but there is a real purpose.  Just to remind you, in case you have forgotten the events of Maundy Thursday over the last six weeks, Jesus has already announced to His gathered apostles and disciples that He will be betrayed by one of them.  He has washed their feet and instructed Peter about the need to be washed.  He has instituted the Eucharist.  He has instructed the betrayer to go and do what he is doing.  He has told Peter, who boldly proclaimed at the table that he would follow His Lord to death, that Peter will deny Him three times before the cock crows.  The night will end in Jesus’ arrest, after the prayer in Gethsemane.  Good.  I see mostly nods.  You remember.

     In the midst of this, Jesus gives a set of teachings and instructions, some of which elicit responses by those with Him, and further teaching by Jesus.  Professional students and teachers of John’s Gospel call this the Farewell Discourses of John’s Gospel.  Ooh.  I see some nods.  I will not boor you too much this morning, but farewell discourses were a common genre in the ANE.  The most famous today might be Socrates’ speech concerning his death, but there were many others in Antiquity.  John drew on that genre as he related the events of Holy Week.  In the Farewell Discourse of John’s Gospel, Jesus knows what is about to happen.  Nothing surprises Him.  He tells those present with Him what will happen, why it is necessary that it will happen, and, although they will mourn at first, they will receive joy that will never be lost.

     Our selection today begins with Jesus telling them not to let their hearts be troubled.  Hearts were the seat of will, not emotion, in the ANE.  Jesus is encouraging those who claim Him as Lord, those who hope He is the Messiah, not to lose their focus in what is about to happen.  Make no mistake, those who followed Jesus knew death.  One can make an argument, given the world in which they lived, that they understood death far better than us today.  Many of us blithely walk through life seldom considering the fact that we are mortal, unless we are touched by the death of a loved one, or a tragic event, or are forced to remind ourselves of its reality through the religious observances of our faith.  Dead people do not just come back to life.  It just does not happen.  I found it more than a touch disappointing that so many of our brothers and sisters on social media have spent time the last four weeks trying to convince others that the Resurrection was not real and, in their minds, unnecessary.  But those who were with Jesus were no different than us.  They understood the might of the Empire.  They understood the fragility of life.  They knew that once one died, that was the end.  But here’s Jesus talking about rising to life after His death, just as the Father ordained.

     Jesus goes on to give that wonderful phrase that can be translated faithfully as either a command or a statement of reality.  Our translators chose to go with both verbs in the imperative conjugation meaning it sounds like a command.  I suspect we hear it just as John wrote it, depending on our circumstances when we read the passage.  Perhaps at funerals, we hear it as a command.  Death seems final and we need to hear our Savior’s command to keep the faith.  But, perhaps some of us hear it as a gentle reminder of our faith, that we believe in Him and in the Father, that we know ourselves to be heirs of His faithful promises.

     Jesus goes on to instruct those with Him on Maundy Thursday that there are many dwelling places in His Father’s house and that He goes to prepare a place for them.  Better still, He reminds His friends and followers that, if He goes to the trouble to prepare a dwelling place for them, He will return and take them to Himself.  Many of us grew up in churches that loved to proclaim the idea that Jesus is building mansions for us in heaven.  I get it.  We have to use the contexts in which we are placed to describe what is happening.  Maybe Jesus is building us each a mansion in heaven, but I think the instruction here is far more significant than that.  I’ll return to it in a moment, as that will, I hope, be my focus for the day.

     Jesus then tells them all that they know the way to the place where He is going.  Thomas, for His part, has the courage to interrupt Jesus’ instruction.  He cannot know how to get to Jesus because he does not know where Jesus is going.  Today, Thomas would tell Jesus he needs an address for Waze or Google Maps or other GPS services.

     Jesus uses the ego eimi to, once again, claim identity with God.  Ego eimi, just to remind us all present, or perhaps teach those present for the first time since they joined when it has come up, was the name given to God by the rabbis when they gathered to translate the Hebrew Scriptures into Greek.  The rabbis, when tasked with conveying God’s Name from Moses’ encounter with the Burning Bush, you know the GREAT I AM, went with ego eimi.  Like many languages in the world, Greek verbs have a pronoun reference included in the verb.  By itself, eimi means I am.  Pairing the verb with the subject pronoun form increases the emphasis.  We might rightly think of this as “I, I am” when translating it into English.  That “I, I am, the rabbis thought, was the best way to convey the claim made by Yahweh when answering Moses’ question about who it was that sent him to Egypt to lead the Hebrew people to the holy mountain to worship God.  Every single time Jesus uses ego eimi, there is a theological claim that we simply do not hear in English.  He is literally taking the Name of God and claiming it for Himself, about Himself.

     In this case, Jesus claims He is, God is, the way, the truth, and the life.  We hear the words too often to really give them much thought.  And the truth is, it is likely not a necessary focus at funerals.  But John’s Gospel has a particular focus on the work and person of Jesus, beginning with the Prologue and ending with the reminder that the stories are shared so that we will believe and have life in His Name.

     I am the Way.  So much of the Hebrew understanding of God, and His instruction, is wrapped up in the Way.  How many times does God remind His people in the OT that His instruction is the way for life?  How many times do the psalmists remind us that our only sure footing is to be found in God?  How many times do the prophets remind us that following the ways of our own hearts leads to death and destruction?  It is such a common metaphor that the Jews described the early Christians as “followers of the way” rather than as Christians or disciples of Christ.  For their part, the Jews thought the followers of the way were crazy.  One did not get to God through a cross.  Only blasphemers died on trees.  And no one, literally no one, could ever claim themselves to be equal to God, the GREAT I AM, and not expect God to treat them like a blasphemer.  But here’s Jesus, claiming identity with God and that living and dying as He instructed is the way to God.  Put in simpler language for us, picking up our own crosses is the only way that leads to God!  Carrying our own crosses is the only way our footing will be sure!

     Jesus goes on to claim He is the truth, again with that self-identification with God.  Truth, as we all know, is a loaded word.  If one claims to have the truth today, one gets shouted down quickly.  Our age, though, is no less pluralistic than that of the ancient world.  Nowadays people like to talk of “my truth” and “your truth,” as if truth is relative.  As a result, we live in an age where facts, observable truths, are not allowed to get in the way of opinion. 

     For John, of course, truth is inseparable from Logos.  Those of us who attend church on Christmas Eve are introduced to that understanding in John’s prologue.  In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and the word was God.  The modern Church picks up on that understanding and proclaims that Jesus is the Living Word of God, that He embodies or Incarnates the Torah of God, right?  As we read John’s Gospel, or any of them for that matter, how does the world respond to God’s Word?  I heard a “not well.”  That’s an understatement.  Who are we kidding, God’s people reject His word constantly.  Why should we be shocked that those who do not recognize Him fail to accept His word?  There are lots of self-described Christians worshipping God in our community today who have rejected the idea that following Jesus is cross-bearing work, who think the dwelling place is granted on this earth as a sign of true faithfulness, who think others suffer as a sign of their unfaithfulness.  And Jesus understood this perfectly, as John reminds and instructs us.  Even though the world came into being through Jesus, the world did not recognize Him and rejected Him.  But even though the world rejected Him, His teaching, His wisdom was not invalidated as “just another truth.”  No, indeed!  God raised Him from the dead demonstrating to the world that His truth is the Truth!

     The last claim made by Jesus, again with that GREAT I AM overtone, is that He is the life.  Now, we live on this side of the events for which He is preparing His apostles and disciples.  We know that He is life in a way, no pun intended, that those present during this discourse could ever imagine.  Heck, I know there are a few Adventers who are just as insistent that the dead cannot live again.  But, as we remind ourselves in that wonderful collect each year, Jesus is not just the Savior, He is the pattern for holy living.  What does living a life as a disciple look like?  It is supposed to look the way Jesus lived His life: feeding the hungry, clothing the poor, visiting the imprisoned or shut in, healing the sick, and all those other activities that the world tells us is crazy or dangerous or just plain wrong, all those activities that when human beings stand before His judgment sheep, He tells them as they did to the least to Him.  Ya, that one makes us squirm, huh?

     It is low fruit, but I am going to pick it.  How many times have we heard “If you let people come to your pantry when they are hungry, they will take advantage of your generosity”?  Occasionally, I even get “You guys are part of the problem.  You are teaching people to be lazy,” as if a vast majority of the people in the world are craving what’s being offered in most food pantries—you know, wilting produce, dented cans, bread that might have mold, rice and pasta out the wazoo.  Those newer to the parish or visiting can hear the obvious scorn in my voice about it, we have heard it so much.  Heck other churches and other non-profits severely limit the availability of food to those in their area because of such fears.  Those same organizations will prey on the emotions of those not food insecure in order to secure their funding to serve the 1/5-1/4 of those in Tennessee who are food insecure, right?  Hilary and Nancy, with a bit of prompting from the professional Christian and the Holy Spirit, made the wiser choice.  They trusted that the Creator and Maker of all things, visible and invisible, really is the Creator and Maker.  They trusted that Jesus was serious when He said they would do greater things in His Name because the Father wanted to glorify the Son in our work.  Y’all know all the volunteers in this work.  You are the witnesses to this, to use the upcoming Pentecost language.  Guess what happened?  Last year we gave away over 300,000 pounds of food we did not purchase.  Either by the working of God or through some weird coincidence, take your pick, people and businesses and organizations gave us more than 150,000 tons of food to distribute for them!  I told you this was low fruit.  Was our budget impacted?  Aside maybe from sore knees and backs from all our lifting, was our worship of God impacted?  How about our marketing program for donors and clients?  Just to remind ourselves, we must be doing something right that honors God, that testifies to the fact that we take Jesus’ instructions and claims seriously; otherwise, no one would take notice and give us that food!  No one would come to us hungry in search of food!  All the work depends utterly and totally on word of mouth, on relationship, you know, just like the way the Gospel spreads.

     When His disciples live like He instructed and like they belief He was raised from the dead, the world notices.  Heck, in today’s world, they wonder why such Christians are not like the jerk Christians with the bully pulpits and always condemning on social media.  But God provides both the way to live and the daily bread needed to live, whatever that bread is.  And if the world takes the life of that faithful disciple, God promises through His Son that the faithful disciple will have His life restored.  Though better suited for a sermon on another day, how much easier would the Resurrection be to believe, were more of us living as He instructed?  How many more groups like us would be feeding the hungry in our midst and testifying to the provision of God?  As Jesus reminded us on Good Shepherd Sunday, He provides the way to abundant life, not just scraping by, not fighting for scarce needs.  But far too many of His sheep do not believe Him, do not live as if He came out of the tomb.  And if we disciples cannot believe it, why would the world?

     And though it should be apparent how this is experienced in the life of the believer from the Body & Soul illustration, we struggle with the idea that the disciple will do greater works than our Lord.  I see some nods.  I mean, Jesus served 5000 and then 4000 men, besides women and children in the feeding miracles, right?  We cannot do that, right?  Wrong!  We fed somewhere between 35,000-40,000 individuals in Christ’s Name last year!  We are on pace to top 50,000 individuals this year.  Is not feeding 35,000 individuals greater than Jesus’ feeding, in terms of numbers?  Would not 50,000 be greater than 35,000, in terms of numbers?  Of course.  Sure, you and I might find Jesus’ provision more impressive, as it come directly from His power and authority.  He takes the fish and loaves and multiplies them Himself.  But what of those who eat from His provision?  Do you think those whom we serve in His Name find that provision any less miraculous, any less meaningful to their lives?  Of course not!  And just to make it absolutely clear, all that we have, all that we give, comes from Him.  We are not providing it ourselves.

     Look at all the healers in our congregation.  How many of our doctors and nurses have prevented deaths in patients?  How many have administered vaccines or antibiotics that saved lives?  How many have convinced patients to amend habits of eating or exercising to lengthen lives?  How many have caught diseases in early stages?  How many have removed tumors or administered radiation or chemotherapy to extend lives that, just a generation ago, would have ended too quickly?  How many have repaired or treated injuries that improved quality of life?  How many have caught mistakes of other healthcare workers?  While Jesus walked the earth, He healed an impressive number of sick.  But He was only One Incarnate Man doing that work.  It makes sense that, in sheer numbers, our two or three dozen healthcare workers would have prevented the death of more individuals over the work of three or four decades in healthcare.  Is that not greater?  Of course it is!

     And, just when you are inspired and noticing this passage in a different way than the normal pastoral way at funerals, I am going to give you real grist for the meal.  Where is the place Jesus is going?  We live in an age far too influenced by the Left Behind series and the imagining of Heaven in earthly terms.  How many of us have heard a funeral sermon on this passage and been reminded by the preacher that Jesus is preparing a mansion on a street paved with gold for each person who has died in the faith?  Maybe He is.  I don’t really care because whatever I am going to come up with pales in comparison with what He can do, but . . . because we hear this in funerals so much, I think we miss a big chunk of the meaning of what Jesus is about to make possible through His Death and Resurrection, at least as the Apostle John understood it.  We miss a chunk of the discourse between Jesus and Thomas.

     We have already reminded ourselves about John’s prologue, where John begins to teach us about the “why” of the Incarnation, right?  We read it every single year after the Feast of the Nativity as we light our little candles from the great Paschal candle, reminding us that we carry that little light planted in us by The Light.  Remember?  Good.  How is Jesus described in verse 18 of John’s first chapter?  No one has ever seen God, but the only begotten at the Father’s bosom has made Him known.  The Greek is actually an idiom that means something along the lines of at the breast or on the lap.  In truth, it probably includes a bit of both.  In the beginning, the only-begotten was on the lap/at the bosom of the Father.  Also in the beginning, Adam and Eve shared intimate communion with God.  They walked and talked with Him all the time.  Eventually, of course, they sinned.  Satan convinced them that the Father was not worth trusting, that He did not really intend good things for them.  As a result, that intimate relationship was shattered.  They were kicked out of that Garden and forced to toil in the dirt.  None of this was intended by God.  It was a consequence of sin.  As was death.  We were not expected to die.  We reminded ourselves of this in Lent when Jesus snorted angrily at the death of Lazarus, right?  I see nods.  Now stick with me.

     From where did Jesus come and to where is Jesus going, according to John’s Gospel?  That’s right, the bosom or the lap of the Father.  I know, some translations like to avoid what the text says.  It makes us uncomfortable—we do not want to talk about bosoms in church, but it really should not.  Many of us are parents.  Most of us have been children a long time ago, believe it or not.  Do you remember what it was like to hold your child at your bosom or in your lap.  Do you remember what it was like to be held to the bosom or in the lap like that?  I know parents make mistakes, they are sinners like us, but most of us remember that safe space, that place where we knew, we knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, everything was going to be ok, where we knew we were loved and valued, where we were protected and cared for, right?

     When John is talking about the Son being at that place in the Father, that’s what he is talking about.  When John recounts Jesus’ Farewell Discourse and Jesus instructs them that He is going back to the Father, that is the place to which He is going.  When we talk about the Son condescending to become fully human, that is part of our understanding of what Jesus did.  He got down from the lap, pushed away from the bosom of the Father, and entered the world that would ultimately reject Him.  But He did this all knowingly and intentionally.  He was willing to give all that up to bring you and me and everyone we encounter in the world into that intimate experience with the Father.

     I understand, the image makes us uncomfortable.  Much like any toddler, we are a bit squirmy the more we are there, the more we imagine ourselves there, I should say.  But that squirmy comes from the security our toddlers experience in our bosoms and laps.  The more protected we feel, the more courageous we feel, and we get down.  The problems happen when we forget where we belong, when we start trusting in ourselves rather than the One who loves us, protects us, provides for us, nurtures us.  On this side of Creation and death, we hear the whispers of God’s enemy.  We wonder whether He really loves us and wants those good things for us.

     For His part, our Lord wants us to trust Him willingly.  Like a gentle Father or loving Mother who wants the young child to know they are loved and valued beyond measure, so our Lord wants that for us.

     Jesus’ work has made that experience possible.  Because He condescended to become fully human and live as God instructed, and because we believe Him, we are promised that ultimate experience, we are promised that He has made it possible for all of us who believe in Him to be gathered at the Father’s bosom or in the Father’s lap or however you want to understand that idiom, not for a few minutes, but for all eternity.

     My friends, we are rapidly speeding through the season we call Easter, when we remind ourselves of God’s power and willingness to redeem all evil in our lives.  I find it good, however, that we spend a brief amount of that time focusing on the end He intends for all humanity who decide to trust Him, who choose to believe in His wonderful story of redemption.  More importantly, I find it energizing for us that we get to pay attention to a well know passage in an unfamiliar context.  Rather than hoping those who leave us are in a great McMansion in the sky or strolling on golden streets, we will all likely remember that the best of that which is to come is the promise by our Lord Christ that we will all one day be where He was, where He is, and where He will be found—at the bosom or on the lap of our Father who created us, who loved us, and did everything to redeem us, that we might experience that amazing sense of fulfillment for ever>

 

In His Name,

Brian†

"I am the door!"

      Today is one of those unofficial feast days in the Church.  Those who pay attention to the calendar know that we read about the Good Shepherd on the Fourth Sunday of Easter, causing many to assume this is the Feast of the Good Shepherd.  It is not; today is simply the Forth Sunday of Easter.  Those paying even closer attention will notice that today we do not read about Jesus calling Himself the Good Shepherd.  We read John over the course of the three-year lectionary cycle, roughly dividing the chapter into thirds.  This year we read the beginning of chapter 10 and miss the explicit claims of Jesus found later in the chapter.  That may disappoint some of you as I focus on what some might call a tangent of the Good Shepherd, but what I think John wants us to understand in light of Jesus’ claims, claims which are, of course, verified by God in His Resurrection of Jesus.

     To begin with, our reading today takes us back several weeks to the story of the man born blind.  Just to refresh your memories because a lot has happened in the world since then, Jesus healed a man blind since birth on the Sabbath in the Temple.  The healing takes places as a teaching moment for those who ask Jesus whether the man was punished or accursed for his own sins or the sins of his parents.  Jesus proclaimed that the man was blind to show forth His redemptive and healing power.

     In what should have been an amazing sight to behold, if you will pardon the pun, the leadership in Jerusalem chose instead to criticize and condemn Jesus’ actions and the testimonies of those who witnessed the miracle.  They try to claim to the masses that Jesus is a blasphemer and has no respect for what they have been taught.  Work is forbidden on the Sabbath.  Yet here is this guy, Jesus, healing on the Sabbath and doing it on the grounds of the Temple!  Good.  I see some recognition of the story.

     Here’s the harder background question.  John tells us that this teaching we are reading and associate with Good Shepherd Sunday occurs during the Feast of the Dedication.  Anybody remember what the Feast of the Dedication re-called?  It’s ok.  Just don’t forget it in three years when it comes up again.  Our Jewish brothers and sisters know the celebration as Hanukah. 

     I know most of us think it is simply an eight-day celebration where our Jewish friends give one another gifts, much like some describe Christmas about us.  The truth is far more significant.  Though we like to think of the Greeks as often wearing white hats in history, we know history is a bit more complicated.  When the Greeks conquered Judea, and the rest of the Mediterranean, they set about trying to stamp out all other cultures or, if you prefer, making everybody Greek.  In Israel’s case, that means they profaned the Temple, did their best to cause the Jews to forget Hebrew, and tried hard to get Israel to worship the gods and goddesses of Olympus rather than Yahweh.  They were rather thorough and successful.

     We know that beginning in the third century BC, so few Jews spoke their native language that the Rabbis gathered to translate the Hebrew Scriptures into Greek.  You and I call that resulting work the Septuagint.  We know that the Jews were forbidden to circumcise their males.  We know the Greeks even forced the Jews to eat pork, thereby proving their assimilation to the new culture and authority.  We also know that there were a number of attempted revolts against Greek rule, the most famous of which was the Maccabean revolt in the second century BC.  Led by Judas Maccabee, the Jews rose up against their Greek conquerors.  This ragtag band of freedom fighters defeated the super-power of the day, and its maybe as many as 60-70,000 soldiers, and evicted them from their homelands.  Once the Greeks were driven out, the Maccabeans worked to re-dedicate the Temple.  Most famously, there was only enough consecrated olive oil to keep the great Menorah burning for a day.  Yet God caused the Menorah to burn for eight days on the little oil, allowing the Jews to consecrate more oil over the next eight days.  That feast, and all the stories of oppression and God’s redemption, also serve as background to what we read today in Jesus’ instruction.  Many would have understood the rededication by the faithful as a type and shadow of what would be ushered in by Messiah.

     One last image present in our story this day in the Middle East was the claim by kings to be shepherds.  The kings claimed to be doing what was best for their people.  I know you don’t like the taxes, but I really do need the money to accomplish what is best for you.  I know you do not like the idea of warfare, but I really do need to put down our enemies before they harm us.  Think modern politicians who claim to be public servants while self-aggrandizing or self-enriching themselves at our expense.  They don’t really want to do it, but they need to accumulate power so that can make real change for us.  BTW – that’s the biggest /s we may here day in and day out.

     All of that background brings us to our lesson today.  Jesus begins by speaking of sheepfolds and how one enters.  In many villages, it was not uncommon for there to be a village sheepfold.  The sheepfold was an area where animals, in this case sheep, could be safely kept at night.  Often, such pens were manmade or took advantage of the natural features or topography.  Those studying Hosea with Larry heard a bit about a big one, Petra, which has a small opening but enormous area enclosed by cliffs.  Think of that on a much smaller scale.

     Each village sheepfold would have a narrow placed gated or barred with at least one man charged with guarding the pen.  In the morning, the shepherd would come to the communal pen and call his sheep.  Such was the relationship that the sheep knew the voice of their shepherd; the shepherd, of course, knew his sheep.  Though modern ranchers tell us we should never name our livestock, some do and did.  The shepherds would call or sing or do whatever was necessary to separate their sheep from the big herd of the village and head off to lush grazing or drinks from gentle moving water.  Jesus’ point would have been well understood by many in the audience.  The shepherd goes to the gate and tells the gatekeeper he wants to take the sheep.  It was done openly and in the light.  The gatekeeper knew the shepherd and that some of the sheep belonged to him.

     Notice, too, Jesus’ criticism of those who try to enter another way.  He calls them a thief and a bandit.  Thieves were those who tried to con someone out of something by stealth or subterfuge.  Think of somebody putting their arm around you as they reach into your robe to take your wallet.  It might be hours before you discover its loss.  Heck, you might even think it fell out rather than was stolen!  Bandits, of course, used forced.  Think of good old-fashioned hold up’s.  You know you are being robbed because it is happening at the point of a sword of the end of a fist or club.

     In light of the healing of the blind man, who are the thieves and the bandits and the one entering through the gate at the light of day?  Do you better understand why the authorities plotted to kill Jesus?

     As the shepherd goes ahead singing or calling or doing what he does, the sheep follow him.  Jesus goes on to remind his audience and us that the sheep will not follow a stranger.  All that makes sense, but John tells us that the audience did not understand the figure of speech Jesus used.  Most of the time, we think Jesus’ parables are challenging.  In this case, John uses the word, paroimia, which is only used four times in the New Testament, to describe the confusion on the part of His audience.  The audience is having a hard time applying the shepherding image, the metaphor,  to the spiritual teaching given by Jesus.  Only our younger members will truly understand this, but they are like Drax in Guardians of the Galaxy 1.  The metaphor goes over their heads.  See, told you.  Mature Adventers can ask the younger members to explain all that at coffee hour—lol.  Those listening to Jesus do not understand Jesus’ authority in spite of all that they have seen.  He has healed on the Sabbath next to the Temple.  In ANE cosmology, Yahweh would have been more powerful the closer one got to His Temple.  The idea that a blasphemer could do something opposed to Him at His seat of power and authority would have been crazy.  Gods HAD to defend their temples, else they ran the risk of losing their power and worshippers.

     For their part, the Pharisees and Sadducees and Scribes are acting the part of thieves and robbers.  They are working hard to convince the people that Jesus is evil, that Jesus is opposed to God, even though all remark that no one ever did anything like His signs, especially healing a man blind from birth . . .  on the Sabbath . . . at the Temple.  And as the healing story ends and our reading today begins, they scoff at Jesus’ attempts to teach them, proudly declaring that they see, and hearing Jesus’ pronouncement that their sin remains.

     Jesus continues the explanation for His audience and us.  His explanation, unsurprisingly, is offensive to the Jews, though we do not hear it today.  Jesus declares Himself to be the door, but He makes the claim in a unique way.  The Greek text, ego eimi thuros, contains the name given by God to Moses at the burning bush.  When Moses asks who he should say is sending him to Moses, God replies in Hebrew “I am that I am.”  The Rabbis who translated that into Greek make God the great I am, ego eimi.  It is an emphatic statement, I, I AM.  Every time Jesus makes a pronouncement “I, I am . . . “ faithful Greek speaking Jews cannot help but think of God.  That ego eimi is so tied to the burning bush that faithful Jews would be offended by Jesus’ claims, were they to reject the signs, and understand Him to be a blasphemer.  Of course, His sheep know His voice and see His signs.  They, like us, have their favorite miracle that convinces them that Jesus is who He claims to be, the Messiah.  And, lest we forget, John reminds us at the end of the Gospel that bears his name that these stories are shared so that we might know Jesus is the Messiah.

     In this particular part of the pericope, Jesus is instructing and promising that all who enter through Him, the Door, that they will be saved.  Better still, those who enter through Him will go in and out and find pasture.  We so often think of doors as dividers.  It’s what keeps one room separate from another, right?  Look at the doors we have to keep the outside . . . well, outside.  Though Jesus does speak of He and His angels separating the sheep and goats at the eschaton in other places, this is not that place.  This is about shepherding in the here and now.  Jesus is the Door through which His sheep enter the sheepfold for safety and security and fellowship and through which they exit to find pasture.  Jesus sums this all up with an amazing promise.  He came so that His sheep may have life, and have it abundantly.  It is a glorious, though subtle promise.  I wonder how many of us miss its implications because we are so wrapped up in the shepherd imagery or the claims of some loudmouth Christians who claim our sole focus, and God’s focus for that matter, is on the Day of Judgement and the Age that follows?  How many of us are like Drax?

     As we were comparing notes this week about potential sermon illustrations at colloquium—some of us do talk shop when we gather like that—we were reminded that there are some important, though subtle teachings in Jesus discussion of Himself as the Door.

     Perhaps most obvious to all is the idea that the way back into that intimate relationship with God we should all desire, to undo the damage of the separation caused by our sin in the Garden.  The entrance to the Garden is blocked by the angel with the flaming sword; Jesus, however, makes it possible for us to begin to re-enter that place, makes it possible for us to begin to experience hints and types and shadows of the intimacy experienced by Adam and Eve.  Make no mistake, we are still impacted by sin, so we will not experience the intimacy afforded Adam and Eve until we receive our new bodies in the new creation, but you get the idea.  Those efforting to enter the door will experience intimacy with God.

     Jesus’ image here is a subtle reminder of the authority that He has, and will have.  He approaches the gate, and the attendant opens the gate for Him.  There is no argument, no “produce your credentials” on the part of the guard.  The guard knows who Jesus is and knows Jesus’ sheep will follow Him.

     Notice, too, that it is a flock.  We Americans love our independence; no one is more individual than American Protestant.  But God calls us together.  It does not surprise us Episcopalians, that we are called together for our own benefit.  We worship together, we fellowship together, we mourn together, we celebrate together—we recognize that the koinonia of Scripture is important to our physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being.  Heck, who among us is surprised that experts are discovering that isolation is one of the great evils resulting from the pandemic?!

     Did you observe that Jesus is the protector?  We live in a day and age where Christians think it necessary to arm themselves to protect themselves, even at church.  As a professional pastor I am always amazed at the number of self-described Christians who feel it is the God-given obligation to carry a weapon to protect themselves.  In some ways, it is not their fault, as they are often poorly discipled.  But Jesus tells us elsewhere to pick up our crosses and follow Him.  Our baptismal rites remind us that we have died to self.  Easter reminds us that all who believe in Him will be given back their life by our Father in heaven.  What is it, then, that causes us to think this life is so important, that we must take up weapons so as to be able to shoot others?  And, just by way of reminder, if we are killed because of our faith, where do we go?  We go to be with the martyrs who sit closest to the throne and encourage God to start the party!

     Can wolves and thieves get in and harm the sheep?  Sure.  But can they do lasting harm?  No!  They can do no damage, including kill us, that He cannot undo.

     Another not so subtle but seemingly often-overlooked teaching in the pericope is how Jesus leads rather than commands His disciples.  As the disciples discuss elsewhere, the leaders in the world are far more wont to command.  Do this.  Do that.  Jesus instructs them and us that He came this time to serve.  He washes the feet of His disciples.  He feeds the hungry.  He heals the sick.  We pray each year reminding ourselves that He is not just our Savior, but the pattern for holy living.  If we desire to be holy, how should we be living?  By doing the things that He did when He was in the world as the Incarnate Son, by efforting to honor Him in our daily life and work.

     To be clear, how does the Good Shepherd lead His sheep?  He calls them by name.  How many of us, when we are suffering because of privation or disease or pain or isolation or any other evil, hear the whisper of the enemy just as Adam and Eve heard the voice in the Garden?  Does God really care about your suffering?  Do you really matter to Him?  If God loved you, He would take away your pain.  If God really loved you, He would give you what you want.  Don’t squirm too much; we all hear that temptation.  What an amazing reminder we get today that our Lord knows us by Name.  Oh, to be sure, we remind ourselves from time to time that He created us, that He breathed into us our nepes that makes each one of us us.  But Jesus reminds us today that He knows all who enter His sheepfold by name!

     Finally, Jesus ultimate promise in all this is that we will have abundant life.  The life we are promised is not just subsistence.  We are not promised we will just get by.  No, Jesus promises that by entering through Him we will have abundant life.  There is a temptation, of course, only to think of this in terms of the Second Coming, that we will not experience abundant life until after we are with Him on the other side of death.  But Jesus’ whole pattern of life is one of sacrifice.  His entire life is sacrificial.  What does He receive for His sacrifice?  That’s right.  Honor, authority, glory and all those other accolades.

     Remember, if you will, though, the nature of sacrifice in God’s kingdom.  What does it cost us?  Think back to our talks of Temple worship.  It should have been the greatest tailgate party ever, putting FL vs. GA or OSU vs MI to shame.  Were we living in OT times, you would come in with your animal.  I would show you how to kill it quickly and humanely, but you would do the work.  I would start the butchering of the animal and place the required offerings on the grill and then give the rest of the animal to the assistants for further butchering.  They would deduct what was supposed to be given to the Levites and then grill the rest.  Once finished, you’d be given your meat and head back out of the Temple, laden with grilled meat in a world that ate meat sparingly.  There, you would invite others to share in the joy that God had allowed you to atone for your sins.  Can you imagine the bounty?  The smell?  The opportunity that, no matter how poor you were, you might be afforded the opportunity to eat meat?

     We forget, of course, that that event was the type and shadow of our Eucharist.  I will not ask for hands, but how many of us were joyful to roll out of bed and come to church today?  But our gatherings are meant to reflect the worship at the Temple.  Both of them are meant to be a shadowy reflection of the worship that is occurring THE Temple, the one where God is now.  We offer to God a sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving, right?  We give to Him that bread and that wine from His creation, right?  What have we really sacrificed?  But what do we receive?  Some would say they are spiritually nourished by the Sacrament.  Others might say they are reminded of God’s promises to them in the midst of their mourning or suffering?  Others might have different answers, but none of that costs us.  God, through His Son, made that available to us, if we but choose to enter through Him, the door.  He paid the cost, the sacrifice, of our admission.  Part of our gathering and celebrating today is meant to remind us of that eternal truth, right?  We remember His death.  We proclaim His Resurrection.  We await His coming in glory.  Even when we don’t feel excited about coming, we remind ourselves of that truth.  Even in the midst of suffering and mourning, we remind ourselves of that truth.  And we give thanks!  Joyful thanks, if we understand Him properly, if we understand that it truly through Him that we enter into His care, His provision, and His salvation.

     I am going to guess, looking at some faces, that there is some disappointment this morning.  I know some of you came wanting to hear a shepherd sermon.  You wanted the warm fuzzies of a pastoral setting.  A couple of you asked me to re-preach “Away to Me.”  I get it.  But our readings today are a prelude to that instruction.  Today we remind ourselves that Jesus is the door through which we enter into intimate relationship with God.  Even so, we are reminded of some of those Good Shepherd lessons.  He loves us and calls us by name.  We are part of a flock, not disparate or even desperate individuals, that He is not a thief conning us nor a bandit forcing us, that He wants to give us abundant life, and, perhaps most importantly, that He loved each of us to make it possible.  And wrapped in that knowledge and in His instruction, we know the end is joy, even if, perhaps, today was a bit more challenging than we would like it to have been.  But because He is the door and He has opened for us, we can be certain and comforted by the remembrance, even in a reading that we might wish otherwise, of our Lord’s tender care and love for us.  As we live and move and have our being in a world that rejects Him and His authority, we know who He is.  He is the Father’s only begotten Son, come to love us, to draw us into His kingdom, and to restore the intimacy that we lost.  Though the world might conspire to keeps us deaf and led astray, He came and called each of us by name, that we might have abundant life through Him!  My friends, that is a reminder that needs re-telling more than once every three years.  It is a reminder that we should hear and every time we gather in His Name!

 

In His Peace,

Brian†