Easter 4 A: The Other Half of the Promise
Dear Partner in Preaching,
It feels like a good time for a message about abundant life!
The tenth and final verse of this passage is one of my favorites in Scripture and, in many ways, sums up the Fourth Evangelist’s distinctive take on the ministry and mission of Jesus: “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly!” Abundant life. Not just getting by, but flourishing. Not just eking out an existence, but thriving. Not just prolong one’s existence, but living life to the fullest. Abundant life – what a promise!
But before rushing to that promise too quickly, it may be of some value to slow down and notice how challenging are some of the images and metaphors used in this chapter. At least, that’s what John says, explaining that Jesus shifts metaphors because his audience wasn’t following him. First, Jesus contrasts the shepherd who enters the sheepfold by the gate to take care of the sheep with the thieves and bandits who climb over to do the sheep harm. Seems clear enough. My guess is that most of his audience – then and now – knew enough to prefer shepherds to bandits, but perhaps they (and we) wonder why he is sharing such generalized, even common sense counsel. So he turns the metaphor ninety degrees or so and shifts his focus from those entering by the gate (or not) to the gate itself, proclaiming that he is the gate, inviting sheep into the protection of the sheepfold and then granting them access to green pastures.
Again, the question doesn’t feel so much about what he means but about why it matters. In both dimensions of the pastoral imagery, Jesus is the one who offers life and seeks the good of his sheep. That will be expanded in the verses that follow (that, sadly, we won’t read until next year at this time), as Jesus – shifting and stretching the metaphor yet again – contrasts his willingness to lay his life down for the sheep with that of the hired hand who runs from danger. Again, this feels like a lot of explaining to get across a relatively simple point. So why all the words? (A question I fear too many of my students and congregants have probably wanted to ask me over the years!)
I think it has a lot to do with the particular and difficult circumstances of John’s community. In the chapter before, Jesus told the story of the man born blind and the threat that those who confess Jesus as Messiah will be expelled from the synagogue (9:22, 35). A number of scholars have suggested that this chapter is a narrative retelling of what actually happened to John’s congregation (see, in particular, Raymond Brown’s Community of the Beloved Disciple). That sense of being displaced, uprooted, adrift in a threatening world, may help explain why Jesus is at such pains to promise that he is the good shepherd, that he will provide protection and sustenance, that he will lay down his life for his charges. They need to hear, in short, that they have not believed and suffered in vain, and that they will not just get through these difficulties but experience life and joy to the fullest.
That’s Jesus’ promise to his disciples then and now. Or at least, that’s what I’ve always heard as his promise. But this week, this year, at this particular time and season, I hear it as half of Jesus’ promise. The first half, for sure, even the grounding and foundational half, but just half. Because in addition to the constant assurance that Jesus is the good shepherd and gate, Jesus also repeats regularly his confidence that the sheep will not follow anyone but their shepherd. The sheep know the shepherd’s voice. The sheep will not listen to thieves and bandits and will run from strangers.
That’s a lot of confidence to put in sheep! And yet the confidence is placed less in the innate ability of sheep to detect danger and as it is in the relationship between sheep and shepherd. Jesus not only says that he is the good shepherd, he also reminds the sheep that they know him, that they’ve trusted him, and that they will continue to trust him, that they will be able to tell the difference between false hope and real hope, that they’ll detect a genuine offer of abundant life and all the counterfeits being peddled to them. He promises not only to lead them, that is, but also that they will follow his voice. This feels like the second-half of the promise in Jesus’ sermon to those who believed in him, both then and now: You know me. You will follow me. You will receive and revel in the gift of life I offer.
Some may wonder if this confidence is misplaced. Jesus’ disciples – again, both then and now – have a history of falling short, of abandoning the way of discipleship when things are hard and slipping into a dangerous triumphalism when things are going well. True enough. But note, again, that this is less about the sheep’s innate or acquired abilities and far more about confidence in the relationship forged between the shepherd and his sheep.
This is Jesus’ version, I think, of “You’ve got this,” rooted in the prior, crucial affirmation, “I’ve got you.” And it feels like an important word, as Jesus makes a promise both about what he is doing for us – protecting, providing, caring, sacrificing, and giving life – and also a promise about how we’ll respond – trusting, listening, embracing, thriving. I suspect it came as good news to a community adrift, afraid, and unsure about the future in the first century… and I suspect it will come as good news to the communities we shepherd who are adrift, afraid, and unsure about the future in the twenty-first century.
For just this reason, Dear Partner, I think this other half of the promise feels particularly valuable to share right now, as I suspect that so many of our folks are tired, doubting whether they can endure, wondering how in the world they’ll continue living in what feels like crisis mode over the long haul. So perhaps this is just the time to say, “Jesus has us,” followed quickly by “we’ll get through!”
This double-promise reminds me a bit of Paul’s similarly bold affirmation in Romans 8. After asking “if God is for us, who can be against us?” he lists a lot of potential candidates – peril, famine, violence, and more. And the expansiveness of his list invites us to add, “disease, pandemic, quarantine, isolation….” All in order to ask, “will any of these things defeat us by separating us from God’s love?” Which in turn sets up Paul’s confidence-instilling and faith-creating declaration, “No, in all these things, we are more than conquerors through the one who loves us!”
Thank you, Dear Partner, for acknowledging how hard things are just now – for us as individuals, for our congregations, for our communities, country and world – and then going on to make both halves of this promise explicit: that Jesus is with us and for us, and that Jesus is confident we will listen to his voice and enter into the abundant life he offers. Confidence is a wonderful gift to share, and I’m grateful for the way you do that in smalls ways and large. Know that I am grateful for, and so very confident of, your ministry and proclamation.
Yours in Christ,
David
I’m thankful for your partnership in this special season!