Listening for the Shepherd’s voice
The King of love my shepherd is, whose goodness faileth never; I nothing lack if I am his, and he is mine forever. Amen.
One of the best known and most beloved images of Jesus has to be Jesus as the Good Shepherd. And unless you were snoozing for the first part of this service, it is unmistakable that this is the Sunday that we observe as Good Shepherd Sunday. From the opening collect, through the hymnody and scriptures, all lift up that comforting and secure image of Jesus as the Good Shepherd.
When you think about Jesus in this context, what comes to mind for you? Perhaps it’s the Twenty-third Psalm: The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want. Or perhaps you recall part of the gospel lesson you just heard: “My sheep hear my voice, I know them, and they follow me.” For me, it’s the visual that my colleagues have brought up on the screen. It shows the altarpiece of Good Shepherd Chapel where we see Jesus tenderly and lovingly pulling a little lamb close to his heart, reminding us that no matter what, no matter if we are in a place where we feel like we can’t even stand, Jesus is with us and will carry us to safety. Maybe you connect with the music. Earlier I quoted one of our hymns, it’s a paraphrase of the Twenty-third Psalm: The King of love my shepherd is, whose goodness faileth never. Or maybe you think of people in your life who’ve been shepherds for you. On this Mother’s Day, I can’t help but think about my own mother who was surely a shepherd and an inspiration in my life. She also happened to have a wicked sense of humor, which always helps! I want you to hold on to these images of Jesus as the Good Shepherd because I think we need them in these challenging times in which we live.
At the beginning of the week, all of the Episcopal clergy in our diocese gathered for our annual clergy conference and retreat. The theme of our conference was “What Does it Mean to Live a Christ-Centered Life in Chaotic Times”—a pretty timely theme. Our guest speaker was womanist theologian Renita Weems. She started with a meditative book that had been significant in her life. I confess I was not familiar with it but immediately found a copy and started reading. It’s by well-known Benedictine nun and author Joan Chittister. Its title is Scarred by Struggle, Transformed by Hope. She wrote it not long after 9-11—during another chapter of challenging times in our country and within the global community. I commend the book to you. It’s short but powerful. The book explores the themes of suffering and resilience and the growth that can come from navigating difficult times. It acknowledges the deep-seated weariness and exhaustion that can accompany struggle, and it examines how we can find new life, even amidst struggles.
Chittister explains: “Hope is not a denial of reality. But it is also not some kind of spiritual elixir. It is not a placebo infused out of nowhere. Hope is a series of small actions that transform darkness into light. It is putting one foot in front of the other when we can find no reason to do so at all.
“A Native American tale tells of the elder who was talking to a disciple about tragedy. The elder said, ‘I feel as if I have two wolves fighting in my heart. One wolf is the vengeful, angry, violent one. The other wolf is the loving, compassionate one.’ The disciple asked, ‘But which wolf will win the fight in your heart?’ And the holy one answered, ‘It depends on which one I feed.’
“The spiritual task of life is to feed the hope that comes out of despair. Hope is not something to be found outside of us. It lies in the spiritual life we cultivate within. The whole purpose of wrestling with God is to be transformed into the self we are meant to become, to step out of the confines of our false securities and allow our creating God to go on creating. In us.”1
Which wolf are you feeding? Which wolf are we feeding? What voices are we listening to? There’s a lot of noise out there and frankly, some of the voices are divisive and dangerous. We’re called to listen to the voice of Jesus, the Good Shepherd. “My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me.” This is the same shepherd who asked Peter, “Do you love me?” And what was Jesus’ reply? “Then tend my sheep. Feed my sheep.” That’s the voice of the loving, compassionate one.
This past Thursday I got a text, as did all of my cathedral clergy colleagues, from our dean and it said, “We have a Pope!” Not they’ve elected a Pope or there’s a new Pope; but rather, “We have a Pope!” Yes, there is a new shepherd who will lead the Roman Catholic church. However, I would submit that he is the best known shepherd in Christendom around the world. It appears to me that Pope Leo is all about being a shepherd to a hurting and conflicted world. In his very first address, he talked about building bridges—not walls—bridges bringing everyone together. This comes from an Augustinian friar who spent most of his vocational life with the poor, those on the margins in Peru. In referring to his friend “Bob”, Pope Francis remarked that he was one who had “the smell of the sheep.” That was meant as a compliment, a great shepherd of a hurting and wanting flock.
Consider St. Peter’s square itself. If you look at the layout, it’s geometrically not square. It’s actually an oval and is designed to welcome everyone in a warm embrace—much like this cathedral, where we are called to be a place of welcome, embracing all with open arms, no exceptions. This is part of being a loving and compassionate shepherd.
I want to leave you with one more meditation about the gift received from the Shepherd. It comes from a reflection on the Twenty-third Psalm from Frederick Buechner. He asks the question: if “I shall not want” is actually true, and he offers the following. “Maybe it means that if we keep our eyes open, if we keep our hearts and lives open, we will at least never be in want of the one thing we want more than anything else. Maybe it means that, whatever else is withheld, the shepherd never withholds himself, and he is what we want more than anything else…at certain rare moments of greenness and stillness, we are shepherded by the knowledge that, though all is far from right with any world you and I know anything about, all is right deep down. All will be right at last. I suspect that is at least part of what ‘He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness’ is all about. It means righteousness not just in the sense of doing right, but in the sense of being right—being right with God, trusting the deep-down rightness of the life God has created for us and in us…”2
There are so many voices out there. Listen for the one that comes in love and compassion. The one that embraces and invites all to experience the abundant life that God gave us in Jesus, the Good Shepherd, God’s Son.
The King of love my shepherd is, whose goodness faileth never; I nothing lack if I am his, and he is mine forever. And so through all the length of days thy goodness faileth never: Good Shepherd, may I sing thy praise within thy house forever.3
1 Joan Chittister, Scarred by Struggle, Transformed by Hope (Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., Grand Rapids, Michigan, 2003), page 103.
2 Frederick Buechner, Secrets in the Dark: A Life in Sermons (Harper One, New York, 2006), page 127.
3 Opening and closing prayer from The Church Hymnal, Hymn 646 – words by Henry Williams Baker and music Dominus regit me