May 3, 2020

Easter 4A 2020 John 10:1-10

You may have noticed from the opening hymn, the psalm, and the gospel that today
is Good Shepherd Sunday, when God’s people are pictured as sheep, Jesus presents
himself as both the shepherd and the gate, and there’s a gatekeeper, bandits, and thieves.
If you find Jesus’ mixed metaphor a little difficult to understand, remember that you are
not alone: John tells us right in the middle of this passage that Jesus’ disciples did not
understand what he was saying to them, and frankly that’s not surprising, since Jesus is
talking all about gates and shepherds and sheep and the disciples were fisherman. It’s
always both reassuring encouragement and a gently humbling reminder that even Jesus’
twelve closest followers, who listened to him preach and teach every day for years, were
still not 100% certain of what he was saying.

Yet even through his somewhat cryptic descriptions, it’s clear that Jesus is sharing
good news. Jesus is the gate behind which the sheep are safe from wolves; he’s what is
keeping them in the fold together so they don’t wander off and get lost; he is the way they
go to find green pastures; he’s the one who points them toward the still waters, providing
for them and caring for them, body and soul. Jesus tells them explicitly that he has come
that they may have life and have it abundantly. This all sounds like good news for the
sheep.

But I’m sure you have heard, as I have, people who interpret these and other parts
of John’s gospel to mean that unless someone believes in Jesus—and by that, they always
mean their Jesus, the Jesus who fits their 100% accurate idea of Jesus—that unless
someone believes in that Jesus, that person is out of the fold, outside the gate, left out of
heaven. That interpretation of exclusivity explains the division between denominations
and other religions. It makes Jesus not the open gate through which the sheep are invited
into life-giving abundance, but a closed gate, keeping sheep away from God’s
overflowing goodness. On Friday for song time I sang “I Just Wanna Be a Sheep”…but
the truth is that we sometimes don’t just wanna be sheep; sometimes we wanna be the
gatekeeper who decides which sheep are in and which sheep are out.

Setting aside the fact that closing the gate and dividing the sheep is not our job,
Jesus isn’t talking about who gets into heaven and who doesn’t. We often read psalm 23
and portions of John’s gospel at funerals, because they mention resurrection and life, but
the eternal life that awaits us is supposed to be a continuation of the abundant life we
have already started to live. John does not share our modern Christian pre-occupation
with life after death and wondering what heaven looks like. It’s not surprising that so
much modern fiction, so much artistic speculation is directed to wondering what heaven
looks like, because scripture actually gives us very little to go on so far as a description of
life after death. Since we all stand to be surprised—though, trusting our good and
faithful God, I think it’s safe to say pleasantly surprised—by what happens after we die,
Jesus, speaking to us from the pages of John’s gospel, is showing us the way to live this
life abundantly instead of only waiting for the life that comes next.

That is good news for us in the midst of this pandemic, as it’s hard to get through a
conversation, a news report, a Facebook post, or a Zoom meeting these days without
hearing, reading, or saying, “I can’t wait until this is over and we can get on with life.”
Of course we want to move forward into a life that doesn’t require masks and six feet of
separation. Of course we want to reassemble our community without risking getting sick
or making someone else sick. Everybody wants to get through this phase and move on to
our new normal. But we can’t control when that new life will begin any more than we
can control when death will cause our afterlife to begin. Yet in the meantime, we are still
living, and Jesus tells us that he came not just so that we may have life, but have it
abundantly.

I know it’s hard to see abundance through the scarcity of the moment. We worry if
we will be able to buy enough meat or vegetables or toilet paper. We see so many fewer
people than we used to and we see them from farther away. Our menu of entertainment
options is severely curtailed. The occasions we planned to celebrate our abundant
blessings have been cancelled or postponed. I guess I can eat a whole Baskin & Robbins
ice cream cake by myself for my birthday this year, and I probably will, but I really
would rather share it with an abundance of friends. Still, our God of abundance, of grace
and provision, of protection and comfort, does not just wait for us either in heaven above
or in the heaven we imagine life will feel like when these restrictions are lifted and
people, activities, and toilet paper are safely and abundantly available to us again. The
shepherd walks with us through this valley, showering us with goodness and mercy all
the days of our lives—even these days. And although it may feel like we’re dwelling in
our own houses forever, we are abundantly blessed to know that we do dwell in God’s
house forever, and forever includes right now.