John 10:1-10
Today’s gospel about abundant life offers so many things to think about—Jesus as the Good Shepherd; we sheep who follow the voice of our shepherd; the strangers, thieves and bandits who try to call us away from Jesus; and then, finding that Jesus himself is the gate through which we pass to enter into God’s everlasting security and abundant life.
Jesus used these images because shepherds and the sheep pens that dotted the landscape were a familiar sight to those who were listening to him. According to a meditation on The Our Daily Bread website, the sheep pens were probably made of stone, or possibly wood, about three feet high. Toward evening, the shepherd would lead the sheep into the sheep pen to protect them from predators. Some of these enclosures were large enough for several flocks, so a watchman stood guard and allowed only certain shepherds and sheep to enter through the one gate into the sheep pen. In smaller pens that held only one flock, the shepherd himself would serve as the gate. Once the sheep were inside the pen, the shepherd would lie down at the entrance to the pen to serve as protection to the sheep through the night, and to keep out anyone or anything who might try to harm the flock.
For us Christians, Jesus is gate through which we find God. Jesus is also the shepherd, the one who leads and guides us once we hear his voice, the one who leads us in and out and helps us to find the pasture in which we have all we need.
This gospel reminds us, though, that often we hear the voices of the “thieves and bandits” of this world instead of the voice of Jesus, and so we choose not to enter the sheep pen, even when Jesus calls us, because other things seem more inviting, or more necessary.
We buy into the promises of those who lie to us and convince us that we should be self-sufficient. That “I can do it on my own” thinking leaves us defenseless and vulnerable like the sheep that wanders away from the safety of the flock and the shepherd and now finds itself in deep danger.
Voices tell us that no one else will protect us, not even God, so we must protect ourselves, which leads to the belief that those who are there to protect us aren’t adequate, or that they might even be against us, so that we need to arm ourselves. In this thinking, there’s no place for a flock, a safe sheep pen, or a shepherd, but instead, an arsenal to pull out against the world when self-defense seems necessary, or the desire for power takes over.
We’ve all met the thieves of materialism. We live in a capitalist society that constantly reinforces the idea that the only way to abundant life is to have certain abundant possessions, that only in this car or that house or those designer shoes will we find the ultimate satisfaction. And then there’s the thinking that material possessions aren’t that important for abundant life, but that experiences are, so that a great deal of time, effort and money goes into planning and carrying out adventures whose memory will sustain us in the hard times. Now possessions and adventures aren’t bad in themselves, but they can quickly become the thieves that distract us from God and keep our minds in a frenzy when they distract us from following our shepherd, who will lead us to abundant life.
Addictions are the bandits waiting to grab us so that we forget to enter the gate—addictions as small as “I’ve got to have chocolate EVERY day” all they way up to addictions to substances that will destroy us and our relationships with those who love us the most, or an addiction to work, or anything that we MUST have that then violates our relationships with God and with one another.
Then there’s the bandit that convinces us that our happiness will only come through another person, that “happily ever after” thinking that convinces us that when we’ve found the right person, the prince or the princess or group that we’ve been looking for, then we are set for life. But ultimately, even the people we love the most will disappoint us, and we learn that not a person in this world can be a constant source of abundant life for us— except for our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
Matthew’s gospel puts this idea another way. In that gospel, Jesus says, “Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.”
Those who find it are the ones who know the voice of Jesus and listen to and follow that voice, rather than to all the competing and often attractive noises of this life. Plus, it’s easy to get confused about what it means to have abundant life. Maybe we don’t want the abundant life Jesus offers, because all we can see is an old sheep pen, and so we go right on past the narrow gate to the bigger, showier ones that grab our attention and promise us immediate gratification.
Abundant life can mean different things to different people, but the abundant life that Jesus offers starts with him. When we know that we cannot possibly be self-sufficient, that all the material things or people in the world cannot be the source of the joy that only God can give, when we choose to enter through the gate that is Jesus, then we’re on the way to abundant life.
The first component of abundant life is complete trust in God. Getting to that complete trust is a life long process. But as David so famously wrote in the 23rd Psalm, “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.” God is all we need. This statement seems unbelievable in the face of hunger, or deprivation, betrayal, danger and death, and yet there it is. My self sufficiency is in God alone.
Gospel singer Kim Hill wrote a song that I’ve listened to many times, and she sums up what I’m talking about. Here are her words.
I lift my eyes when I am troubled
I lift my hands, I lift my heart
And there I stand knowing nothing can defeat me
Just as long as I know where You are
In You alone
Is where I find my comfort
In You alone
You’re my only hope
In You alone
My heart has found a resting place
In You alone
In You alone
So I won’t fear though darkness hides me
No, I won’t let my courage sway
For You are near and at the brightness of Your glory
The shadows of the night melt away
In You alone
Is promise I can cling to
In You alone
You’re my security
In You alone
My soul has found a dwelling place
Only in You alone
What could separate me from Your love?
Neither life nor death, nor anything at all
Anything at all
In You alone
Is where I find my comfort
In You alone
You’re my only hope
In You alone
My heart has found a resting place
Only in You alone Only in You alone Only in You alone
As I’ve gone through this life, I’ve mostly believed that Jesus alone is the way, but more often than I care to admit, my belief has been academic. I was busy being self-sufficient, counting on myself and my stuff and the people around me more than I realized, and sometimes more on all of that than on God, not intentionally, but especially when our lives are going well, we’re tempted to linger in the pastures we’ve found, the pastures we’ve cultivated, the pastures that seem secure because of what we think we’ve done to make them so. It’s easy to value our autonomy and freedom more than we value our dependence on God—and all goes along well for a time, maybe for years on end.
And then, when trouble comes, because trouble will come, and all the certainties of our lives fall away, and all the work seems for nothing, and we can’t hear anything at all because of the pounding of voices of despair and death that threaten to overwhelm us, then we find ourselves longing to hear the voice of our shepherd again, calling us back, calling us to go through the gate again, and back into the sheep pen. Because Jesus will never turn away those who hear his voice and come to him, especially those who come back after having strayed away.
So if you are feeling confident that you’ve made your own way and that you are fine our own, thank you very much, let these words of Jesus give you pause. Maybe you’ve passed that sheep pen Jesus talks about hundreds of times. Maybe you’ve even heard the voice of the shepherd and thought something about that voice sounded eerily familiar. Consider passing through the gate. Jesus won’t slam the gate and keep you captive. Instead, you can still go in and out and find pasture. But maybe it would be worthwhile to check out the pasture to which you’re led rather than to go on your merry way to a pasture that ultimately is beyond the shepherd’s voice and where you find yourself completely isolated and terribly alone.
And for those of you in deep despair, who can’t hear anything, because trouble has come and is threatening to overwhelm you, this passage provides some hope—because Jesus calls the sheep, and if you keep listening, you will hear him calling. When you want to hear that voice badly enough, God will start leading you back, even if you don’t know it’s God taking you through those valleys of the shadow of death. But sure enough, God loves each and every one of us, and wants to give every one of us abundant life. Sometimes the life that we thought was abundant has to be taken away before we can hear Jesus calling us back into his love, a love so abundant that we finally come to truly know that God will never, ever let us go, that his goodness and mercy do indeed follow us forever. When we finally hear his voice and turn back and follow, we find ourselves back at the gate, and when we enter in, we will dwell in God’s house forever, like lost children who have finally come home. And that certainty is abundant and everlasting life.