Easter 4B: All We Like Sheep

Shepherd and sheepOLD TESTAMENT: Acts 4: 5-12

To read the Lectionary passage from Acts, click here

Last week, we read that Peter and John had gone to the Temple to pray and Peter had healed a crippled man. Peter then exhorted the crowd to repent and turn to God that their sins might be wiped out. While all this was happening, the religious authorities became very annoyed and arrested them. John and Peter now appear before the council and are asked to explain their actions: Who empowered you to cure the lame beggar? Peter, “filled with the Holy Spirit”, responds that it was done in the power and name of Jesus Christ (whom, he reminds them, “they” had crucified.) (There’s quite a bit of perceived anti-Semitism that you have to weed through here. Think of it more in terms of the “powers of the day”, the religious authorities, rather than the “Jews”. Remember, Jesus was a Jew.)

He then proclaims Jesus as the “cornerstone” of the Church, God’s agent and affirms that salvation is available through Christ. Following this, (I don’t know why the Lectionary wouldn’t have included it—odd!)  the members of the Sanhedrin (the council) are “amazed…and recognized…them as companions of Jesus.” They note that a notable sign has been done and order the two not to speak or teach in the name of Jesus. The two inform them that they will continue to do just that.

You know what’s interesting—if you remember, Peter was never the strong one. In fact, wasn’t he the one who denied Jesus—three times, in fact? Something had changed. God had taken someone fearful, someone cowardly, and turned him into a bold proclaimer.

It is obvious, though, that the “powers” of the day sense the threat that was there. After all, the whole priestly entourage turns out. But that concluding statement has always caused problems in history. Christians have gone to war through the centuries armed with that last statement—that “no other name under heaven….” But the truth here is that Jesus was the one who confounded the whole system—turning the tables, so to speak. Here’s a quote from Walter Wink—he says it better than I do:

If “saved” means being united and reconciled with God, then Acts 4:12 is palpably false. There are many authentic roads to God, and no religion holds the franchise for illumination. But if “saved” here means being delivered from the bondage and delusions of the domination system, and being empowered to set others free–if it means ultimately transforming the system itself and renouncing domination in all its forms–then Jesus is indeed the one who can yet save the world from the domination system. And that, it seems to me, is a factual statement with which persons of all religions might agree. (From “Those Obstreperous Idiots”, in The Christian Century, April 13, 1994)

The point of it all is that Jesus promises a new wholeness, a new unity that will restore an otherwise broken world. I mean, when you think about, it had already healed Peter, already made Peter more of who God was calling him to be—strong, courageous, bold. So, how can good come out of a corrupt world? Good comes because God will never let corruption, or rejection, or despair, or injustice, or even crucifixion have the last word. Essentially, resurrection is always happening. In his blog on this Scripture, Dr. John Holbert says it like this:

It is nothing less than tragic that the idea of “being saved” has too often done precisely the opposite; it has divided people rather than united them. Ironically it will do that as well in the ongoing story of Acts, as Jews and early Christians grew further and further apart. Still, as the famous, and infamous, John 3:16 proclaims, “God so loved the cosmos” and sent Jesus, “not to condemn the cosmos,” but in order that the “cosmos might be made whole,” restored, made one again. By implication, any time that the name of Jesus is used to divide, and not unite, to generate hatred and not love, to separate person from person rather than join them together, that name has been besmirched, misused, profaned. We Christians, all of us, would do well to meditate on our use of Jesus’ name and ask ourselves what use we have made and make of it in our own faith lives. (From “A Fresh Wholeness”, available at http://www.patheos.com/Progressive-Christian/Fresh-Wholeness-John-Holbert-04-23-2012, accessed 25 April, 2012.

  1. What is your response to this passage?
  2. What do the abuses of this passage that exist do to its meaning?
  3. What does it mean for you to be “saved” through Christ?
  4. From what systems of domination does Christ deliver us today?

 

 

NEW TESTAMENT: 1 John 3: 16-24

To read the Lectionary Epistle passage, click here

In this passage, the author (we’re not sure who that is really!) begins by addressing the nature of love, pointing to Christ’s love that involved Christ laying down his life for us. It implies here that this is not a vicarious sacrifice but, rather, a total self-giving for others. That, then, is what love really is—giving oneself for others. The focus is not on sacrifice or atonement here, but on love and generosity.

Even though this letter is written within the context of the Christian community, it does not seem to limit the directive to love for that community only. This love is limitless. From love comes the right thoughts, the right actions, the truth, and the boldness to proclaim belief in the name of Jesus Christ. For the author, confidence comes from relating to God, rather than a notion of piety that separates one from God because of sin.

Through loving one another, we obey God and abide in God. It affirms the sufficiency of God and God’s love. By loving one another, by loving God, by abiding in God, we will get the sustenance that we need to live. In fact, in a community in which God’s love abounds, all will get what they need and all will live together in unity and wholeness. It is not the rule; it’s just the way it is. This clearly envisions a world where people are not diminished but are allowed to stand on their own beliefs with confidence. And the “right” belief means that they will love and respect each other.

This epistle was written to a community that saw themselves within the broken world in which they lived. But they are reminded here that God is ever-present and always-loving. Perhaps we need to be reminded of the same thing. After all, what does God’s Presence look like in our lives, in our world? What shape does God’s Presence take in our lives? What does a world look like that overflows with God’s love?

 

  1. What meaning does this passage hold for you?
  2. What happens to these thoughts in our consumer-driven society?
  3. Why do we not live our lives this way?
  4. What does God’s Presence look like in our lives?

 

 

GOSPEL: John 10: 11-18

To read the Lectionary Gospel Passage, click here

The ancient shepherd of Palestine had to be tough, worked often in areas of sparse growth, and frequently was amid dangers from wild animals and sheep stealers. But it was his job, his very livelihood, to protect the flock, particularly at night. The use of the shepherd image reflects both strength and nurture. This was not leadership that just sat back and told people what to do—it was, rather fully engaged in the workings of life.

It’s hard for us to grasp, but a shepherd does not care for a flock of no-name, generic animals. A shepherd that does his job well would know each and every one of the sheep for which he is responsible. (My grandfather could name every cow on our ranch—it always amazed me.) The point is, this is not a removed role of leadership but fully participatory and engaged. But, when you think about it, it has little to do with control. After all, have you ever tried to control a bunch of sheep? The image is of a shepherd, not a controller.

So, Jesus as the shepherd may not be the peaceful, pastoral Jesus we envision. This was hard work. This was dangerous work. This was work that few “respectable” people would do. So what does that say? It says that Christ does not stand on the principles of this society or this world. The passage reminds us that Christ never gave in to his own preservation but instead gave himself to and for the world. And, so we are called to do the same, to be like Christ.

I think, though, the image of sheep is something that we should not omit. We tend to concentrate on the shepherd part and we forget the image of the sheep. After all, we don’t like to admit it, but we make pretty good sheep. We stand protected by our ranks, assured of our stance because others think the same within the boundaries of our lives, and secure in our walls we’ve built because we have company that’s helped us build them. And then someone comes along, honks a horn, and we take off running, not because there’s really a threat, but because everyone else is doing it.

And so, what about the other sheep? What about those that Christ invites into the flock? You know, it’s interesting—when we want to set limits, God tells us that it is precisely those on the other side of the wall who belong to the fold. And that’s what often makes us run or at least put our guard up a bit.

Sure, sheep are communal animals. The herd is the very essence of their survival. And, yet, they know that it’s the shepherd to whom they look. They’re really not worried about who is in the flock. Whoever follows the shepherd is one of them.

We all know what a “herd mentality” is. It is that thing that sends panic through a crowded space if someone claims they have a weapon. It is that thing that makes us drive above the speed limit if all the cars around you are doing just that—after all, I, personally, don’t like it when people pass me. Some would say, sadly, that it affects our very democratic process, as polls of who everyone else thinks should win come rolling out. In our world, a “herd mentality” somehow convinces people to not think for themselves. All we like sheep herd ourselves into the place that everyone else is and we expect the world to get in line behind us.

So you see, I’m not convinced that the character in this passage with which we should identify is actually the Good Shepherd. I’m thinking it is, rather, the sheep. Have you ever thought that the word “sheep” is the same for both singular and plural tenses? Isn’t that interesting? It’s as if it doesn’t matter, because it’s all the same.

Perhaps we are called to a new herd mentality—to a new way of living. In the society in which we live, we are encouraged to act as individuals, to do the things that preserve our own self-interest and our own self-preservation. And, yet, we sometimes struggle to think for ourselves. What would people think? But Christ calls us to a new herd mentality. Perhaps it is one where the singular and the plural no longer matter, where we act as a herd, as a group that follows Christ. But don’t get me wrong…we are meant to think for ourselves. That is called belief. That is called faith.

For the writer, the fact that Jesus laid down his life meant that Jesus brought life. It was not really a “sacrificial lamb” here, though. It meant that Jesus, the shepherd, loved the flock enough to ensure them life. And, as part of the “flock”, following the Good Shepherd means following and receiving life.

 

  1. What is your response to this passage?
  2. What meaning does the “shepherd” image evoke for you?
  3. What meaning does the notion of the sheep evoke for you?
  4. How does that image speak to our lives today?

 

Some Quotes for Further Reflection:

 

If I look at the mass I will never act, if I look at the one, I will. (Mother Teresa)

 

Sure, people need Jesus, but most of the time, what they really need is for someone to be Jesus to them. (Reuben Welch)

 

Experiments have shown how much of our behavior is determined by the mental images to which our minds are constantly returning. If we bring our minds back again and again to God, we shall by the same inevitable law be gradually giving the central place to God, not only in our inner selves, but also in our practical everyday lives. (Paul Tournier)

 

 

Closing

PSALM 23  LORD God, divine shepherd; in the days ahead, just as it has been all my life,  I shall not want for anything. You will rest me in rich pasture  and lead me beside calm waters. You will bring my inner being back where it belongs, and lead me along the right paths,  for the sake of your name. Even when things seem at their darkest, sensing your presence, I fear nothing; you are sure of the way ahead, and you protect me. Indeed, in spite of the adversity surrounding me you continue to provide abundantly for my well-being; anointing me with your hospitality and pouring out blessing upon blessing. Surely good and loving kindness will pursue me all my days, I will return, and you, O LORD,  shall be my dwelling-place for days without end.

                                    (by Jeff Snowden)

Easter 3B: See What Love We Have Been Given

road_emmaus-2-300x190OLD TESTAMENT: Acts 3: 12-19

To read the Weekly Lectionary passage from Acts, click here

Previous to this passage, Peter and John, observant Jews, have gone to the Temple at the time of day when sacrifice is offered for prayer. At the gate to the temple courtyard they have seen a man lame from birth, forced to beg in order to survive. Peter has commanded him: “in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, stand up and walk”. After helping him to his feet, the man has entered the temple with them, “walking and leaping and praising God”. “While he clung to Peter and John, all the people ran together to them.”

Now Peter preaches to the crowd. It is not by their own power or devotion (“piety”) that the man walks, but rather by God’s power, through Christ. Peter speaks as a Jew, to his own people: the titles of God are those by which God identifies himself to Moses in the burning bush (Exodus 3:6). God has “glorified” (exalted, lifted up) Jesus. Glorification stands in contrast to the actions of the unthinking mob, who “handed [him] over and rejected [him]”. “Holy and Righteous One” are messianic titles; the “murderer” is Barabbas. Jesus is “the Author of life”, the pioneer or founder of a new order, an order open to all. The healing occurred due to faith in God’s authority, “his name”, through Christ, God’s agent. Then he appeals to Israel to repent and be converted. The mob and the Jewish authorities, Peter says, “acted in ignorance”. “The prophets”, as a body – Isaiah in particular – predicted that “his Messiah would suffer”. But there is a second chance for Israel: “repent” and be converted, “turn to God” and God will wipe out their sins so that you may enjoy “times of refreshing”.

Peter is probably referring to the end of the era, when Christ comes, at “the time of universal restoration”. Peter believes that Christ is the prophet Moses said God would “raise up” those who do not listen to him will be condemned. Peter reminds his audience of God’s promise to Abraham: “in your descendants all the families of the earth shall be blessed”. Now you have to remember that this was written to a particular audience. This speech, whether or not it actually happened, is meant to shape the audience. The point is to convince the hearers that what they have been taught is right. Keep in mind, though, that the audience would have been, for the most part, Jewish. It is set within the boundaries of the temple and follows a healing. But repentance, in Jewish terms, does not really mean a confession of a personal sin to a religious figure. Sins are confessed privately in prayer to God. It is not a show of personal conversion. For these Jewish believers, full “teshuva”, or full repentance, requires full consciousness of one’s actions and the refraining from the sin that one has committed. Interestingly, though, it doesn’t illicit a real response, but rather gets Peter and John arrested.

What does this mean for us? What does this study of Acts hold for us in today’s world? What does it mean to be a new creation?

 

  1. What is your response to this passage?
  2. What meaning does it hold for you?
  3. What does repentance, or recognition of our sins, have to do with our faith?
  4. In what ways might this passage be abused?

 

 

NEW TESTAMENT: 1 John 3: 1-7

To read the Weekly Lectionary Epistle passage, click here

This passage deals with the questions: What does it mean to be children of God? What does that mean to other people? What does it mean to be like Jesus? The notion that we are God’s children implies that there is something in the future for us, something different from the way things are now. When Jesus appears, we will look at him and it will be a transforming experience. The writer of this passage is saying that our hope is to become like Christ in the future and our challenge is to become like Christ now.

At its simplest, the passage is saying to do what we say. People become what they look at, so our focus does matter. By focusing on Christ, we become those for whom sinning is not an option. Essentially, it makes us really look at what it means to have Jesus in our lives.

The most problematic part of this text is the claim made in verse 6 that those who “abide in him” do not sin. (Really?) It is difficult to understand how this is not a blatant contradiction to much of the rest of the biblical witness, and even to what 1 John says elsewhere (see 1:8-2:2). Some have suggested that the present tense of the verb “sins” in verse 6 indicates that the author is denying only a constant habit of sinning. While the author of 1 John would certainly consider habitual sinning to be out of bounds for those who claim to be God’s children, the verse cannot be tamed quite so easily. Are we to imagine that the author is willing to excuse occasional sins?

 

  1. What meaning does this passage hold for you?
  2. What does it mean to be children of God?
  3. What does that mean to other people?
  4. What does it mean to have Jesus in your life? What does that call for you to do that is different from the rest of the world?

 

 

GOSPEL: Luke 24: 36b-48

To read the Lectionary Gospel passage, click here

This is one of our favorite stories. In other lectionary years, we read more of the passage. We travel to the elusive place known as Emmaus and we encounter a little-known disciple named Cleopas and some other elusive character. Jesus appears on the road to two people and walks with them and then reveals his real identity to them. It is later on Easter Day, the day on which Mary Magdalene and the other women have discovered the empty tomb. As two of Jesus’ followers walk to Emmaus, they talk about the day’s news, the recent startling events. They are surely despondent, not knowing where to turn.

Eusebius, the first church historian, tells us that “Cleopas” was a relative of Jesus. (Perhaps this is Uncle Cleopas or something!) The two do not recognize our Lord Jesus.   Jesus has disappointed them: they expected him to deliver Israel from Roman domination, and to begin an earthly kingdom of God. Three days have passed (long enough, in Jewish belief, for the soul to have left the body) and, despite Jesus’ statement that he would be raised from death, nothing has happened! The women told us that he is alive, but when Peter and John went there, all they saw was the empty tomb!

Jesus tells them how slow they are to grasp what has happened. The meal seems to be a Eucharist: “he took bread, blessed and broke it””. Then, from Jesus’ interpretation and their hospitality to this “stranger”, “their eyes were opened”,i.e. they develop a deeper understanding of who Jesus is, that he is divine. At the Last Supper, Jesus said he would not share food with his disciples until God’s kingdom came. He has now eaten with the two, so the Kingdom has indeed come. “The Lord has risen indeed … !”

But the truth was, they invited the stranger to dine. They invited the stranger into their lives. This is the dramatic proof that Jesus had arisen from the dead. And this was not a random event. God had done this. Notice one thing—the name of the second person is never given. Who is it? Is it a disciple? Is it someone you know? Is it you?

This story celebrates Easter and invites participation. William Loeder calls it a “faith legend”. We are invited to imagine that Jesus materializes and then just as suddenly dematerializes. What happened to us in between? In all honesty, we never hear of Cleopas again and we don’t even know who his companion is. They are ordinary people on the road to ordinary places who had the grand adventure of encountering Jesus. And now they go home. The road to Emmaus—probably a two hour walk—is a story of the Christian life. Frederick Buechner interprets Emmaus as “the place we go to in order to escape—a bar, a movie, wherever it is we throw up our hands and say, “Let the whole damned thing go hang. It makes no difference anyway,”…Emmaus may be buying a new [outfit] or a new car or smoking more cigarettes [or eating] more than you really want, or reading a second-rate novel or even writing one. Emmaus may be going to church on Sunday. Emmaus is whatever we do or wherever we go to make ourselves forget that the world holds nothing sacred: that even the wisest and bravest and loveliest decay and die; that even the noblest ideas that men have had—ideas about love and freedom and justice—have always in time been twisted out of shape by selfish [people] for selfish ends.”[i]

It is the road from disappointment, despair, and disillusionment. The unseen stranger is always walking with us. And, in fact, the implication is that we are the other disciple. And Jesus appears in both places—the place that we go to retreat from the world and on the road itself. Jesus appears in the ordinary and the sacred; in the mundane and in the special. And if we don’t recognize the presence of the Risen Christ, the presence waits around until we do.

 

  1. What meaning does this passage hold for you?
  2. What would you have thought had it been you on that road?
  3. What does it mean for you to be the second disciple?
  4. In what ways do we fail to recognize Jesus?
  5. What does this passage say to us about hospitality?
  6. How aware are you of the holiness dancing in and out of your awareness? What gets in your way?

 

 

Some Quotes for Further Reflection:

 

If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would be seen as it is. (William Blake)

 

Some people, in order to discover God, read books. But there is a great book: the very appearance of creating things. Look above you! Look below you! Read it. God, whom you want to discover, never wrote that book with ink. Instead [God] set before your eyes that things that [God] made. Can you ask for a louder voice than that? (St. Augustine of Hippo, 5th century)

 

For lack of attention, a thousand forms of loveliness elude us every day. (Evelyn Underhill)

 

 

Closing

 

God, you call us to leave our comfortable ways, to sing new and unfamiliar songs. You ask us to invite absolute strangers into your house even though we feel awkward. We are slow to do what you ask…Lead us on a new path, your path. When we hesitate, stumble, and even reverse direction, reach back—grasp our hands—pull us forward. And when we start to grow deaf to your voice, call out to us—bellow out to us. Make us hear. Overwhelm us with your love. Surround us with your peace so that we have no choice but to share it with those you have put into our lives. Amen. (Deborah Bushfield, from “God of Risk”, in Alive Now, May/June 2009, p. 38)

[i] In The New Interpreter’s Bible: A Commentary in Twelve Volumes, Volume IX, Luke & John, p. 482.