Thursday, May 19, 2011

I Am The Gate

I Am The Gate - John 10:1-10

May 15, 2011

“So again Jesus said to them. “Very truly, I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep. All who came before me are bandits; but the sheep did not listen to them. I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” (John 10:7-10)

When I saw that this was the Gospel reading for today, I had to smile. I had to smile because instantly I remembered an incident that occurred early on during my recent pilgrimage to Greece and Turkey. An incident that prompted me to feel the presence of Christ in and around me, and caused me to see, in a new way, the shepherd path that Jesus walked for us all. The shepherd path that Christ expects us to walk.

It was late afternoon; the sun was setting. We were all completely exhausted after having driven about 250 miles over the past nine hours. During this time we also visited four ancient, historic sites, one of which had over 150 steps to ascend and, of course, 150 steps to descend.

Our little pilgrim group had just completed a tour of the fourth and final site of the day, the Roussanou monastery in Meteroes, Greece. The monastery, built in 1517, is now a convent for Greek Orthodox nuns. It is situated way up on the pinnacle of a vast and absolutely exquisite mountain range.

At the conclusion of our tour, we literally stumbled onto the bus. We were finally on our way to the hotel designated for that night’s stay. Everyone was looking forward to a glass of wine, some supper and bed.

As our bus rolled quietly down the mountainside, I saw a dog trotting toward a gate near the side of the road. Then, a flock of about 30 sheep began slowly, one by one, to come up over the crest of a steep hill. Finally, following the dog and the last of the sheep, was the shepherd with his crook. He looked completely exhausted. We all saw him at the same time. Some of us said, “Oh look, there’s the shepherd – he looks so tired.” Then we forget about him as we dozed off, chatted, and/or simply watched the mountains roll by.

Back at the hotel, we had a pre-dinner Eucharist. As the deacon of the Eucharist, I read the evening’s Gospel lesson that included the following passage:
“So he told them this parable: ‘Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it? When he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders and rejoices. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and neighbours, saying to them, “Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.” Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous people who need no repentance.” (Luke 15:3-7)
Afterward, as we sat around the dinner table, all we could talk about was the shepherd that we had seen as we drove away from the monastery. We reflected collectively on our thoughts of seeing this exhausted servant faithfully guiding his flock to the safety of the gate of their pen, where all would spend the night together. We collectively and viscerally experienced in a new way what Jesus was trying to convey to his disciples when he said, “I am the gate…”

We felt in our bodies and in our souls the exhaustion that a shepherd feels – the reality of being a shepherd. We sensed the challenges, the hardships, the loneliness and aloneness of being the only one to tend even a small flock, much less all of God’s children.

We discussed how difficult the journey to the cross must have been for Jesus.

We saw with new eyes, heard with new ears, and understood with new hearts the difference between false gods and God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit.

“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” (John 10:10)

We felt the presence of Christ there at the table with us. It was a stunning moment. A moment that I am sure none of us will ever forget. We had met our shepherd. We understood the gate.

John is the Gospel of the “I am” statements – “I am the bread of life” (6:35); I am the living bread” (6:51); “I am the light of the world” (8:12; 9:5); I am God’s son” (10:36; “I am the resurrection and the life” (11:25); “I am the way, and the truth, and the life” (14:6); “I am the true vine” (15:1).

Through metaphor and through works, in John’s Gospel Jesus shows us “the way.” He urges us to differentiate between the futility of seeking happiness by grasping at the promises made by we might today call “false gods” such as wealth, fame, instant cures for whatever ails us and the benefit of living a life of Christian discipleship – following Jesus – in order to truly live life – a life not necessarily free of pain and suffering, but a life filled with an abundance of peace – a life that promotes a society filled with ears that hear, eyes that see, and hearts that comprehend.

“Very truly, I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep. All who came before me are bandits; but the sheep did not listen to them. I am the gate.” (John 10:7)
Soon after returning from my two-week pilgrimage, I read “Journey to the Common Good” by the well known biblical scholar Walter Brueggemann. In this brief three-chapter book Brueggemann discusses ways in which Scripture can affect the faith and life and practice of our modern-day church as we journey together toward the common good that God wills for the world – as we continue Jesus’ shepherd work in our church, in our community, and in the world.
Very briefly, Brueggemann believes that we are currently experiencing a crisis of the “common good.” In his analysis of this crisis he uses the Exodus narrative as the text that contains the memory of the way in which ancient Israel moved from Pharaoh’s slave labor to the holy mountain of Sinai and their covenant with Yaweh (God). This narrative sets the stage for a repetitive series of journeys seeking the “common good.”
Briefly, slavery in the Old Testament occurs initially because Joseph, the Israelite, created a food monopoly for Pharaoh. Subsequently, the peasants having less and less food of their own, came to Joseph, now a high-ranking Egyptian official, and over a brief period of time gave him their money, their land, and finally themselves to ensure that they would have enough food.
“So Joseph bought all the land of Egypt for Pharaoh…As for the people, he made slaves of them from one end of Egypt to the other.” (Gen 47:20-21)
Pharaoh’s only interest was in manipulating the economy in order to concentrate massive wealth and power under the roof of the royal family at the expense of the community – or, the “common good.” By the end of the book of Genesis, we read of a deteriorated social system consisting of Pharaoh, Pharaoh’s family, the elite guard, and the state slaves who submit to slavery in order to receive food from the state monopoly.

In the first five chapters of Exodus we learn that Pharaoh has become more and more aggressive and abusive to his workforce. He is driven by anxiety over the possibility of losing his power and wealth – his food monopoly. Finally, the abused laborers can stand it no more; they cry out – they cry out publically and God hears their cries.

“Out of the slavery their cry rose up to God. God heard their groaning, and God remembered his covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. God looked upon the Israelites, and God took notice of them.” (Exod 2:23b-25)

The human cry of the slaves evoked a divine resolve:

“The Lord said, “I have indeed seen the misery of my people in Egypt. I have heard them crying out because of their slave drivers, and I am concerned about their suffering. So I have come down to rescue them from the hand of the Egyptians and to bring them up out of that land into a good and spacious land, a land flowing with milk and honey…“ (Exod 3:7-8)

The divine resolve then turns into what Brueggemann calls human agency – Moses is ordered by God “to bring my people out of Egypt.” With Moses leading them, the slaves watched the Red Sea waters open for them as they departed the Pharaoh’s anxiety system and stepped into the wilderness. Once in the wilderness, however, they began to complain about their new life based on risky faith and yearned to return to the ways of slavery and guaranteed food. The situation was tense.

Finally Moses complained to God, and God responded to the complaint.

“I have heard the complaining of the Israelites: say to them, ‘At twilight you shall eat meat, and in the morning you shall have your fill of bread’; then you shall know that I am the Lord your God.” (Exod 16:12)

Manna - the Bread of Heaven – grace in the wilderness given in the palpable form of bread. The bread in the wilderness was a divine gesture of enormous grace and abundance; grace and abundance – God’s response to human need.

Brueggemann’s overall point is that the fear of scarcity, of losing power and wealth, nullifies the grace and abundance of God. The pursuit of “more” can never be satisfied. If we are to be truly “satisfied” we must be guided by the summons that follows from the assurance of generosity.

“Seek the Lord while he may be found, call upon him while he is near; let the wicked forsake their ways, and the unrighteous their thoughts; let them return to the Lord, that he may have mercy on them, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.” (Isa 55:6-7)

In today’s torn and troubled world, we are the “human agency;” we are the “shepherd”; we are the “gate” through which the Lord may be found. Through our baptismal covenant we are the human agency anointed by Christ with the Holy Spirit to go forth and lead our communities through today’s troubled waters from Pharaoh’s world of anxiety and slavery to God’s world of grace and abundance.

I want to close once again using Walter Brueggemann’s words and prayers for us all.

“Jesus of Nazareth, a prophet, and more than a prophet, I argue, practiced in most radical form the main elements of prophetic ministry and imagination. On the one hand, he practiced criticism of the deathly world around him. The dismantling was fully wrought in his crucifixion, in which he himself embodied the thing dismantled. On the other hand, he practiced the energizing of the new future given by God. This energizing was fully manifested in his resurrection, in which he embodied the new future given by God.”
(Brueggemann, Walter. 2001. The Prophetic Imagination. 2nd Ed. Minneapolis. Fortress Press. p.116)
Prayer:
Lord, grant us the courage to die to our complacent and numb selves so that we can be reborn and re-energized by the new future given by God. AMEN