Psalm 23
God is my shepherd; I have all that I need.
God lets me rest in green meadows and leads me beside peaceful streams.
My strength is renewed. He guides me along right paths, bringing honor to his name.
Even when I walk through the darkest valley, I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me.
Your rod and your staff protect and comfort me.
You prepare a feast for me in the presence of my enemies.
You honor me by anointing my head with oil. My cup overflows with blessings.
Surely your goodness and love will go with me all the days of my life,
and I will live in God’s house always.
John 10:1-10
“I tell you the truth, anyone who sneaks over the wall of a sheepfold, rather than going through the gate, must surely be a thief and a robber! The one who enters through the gate is the shepherd. The gatekeeper opens the gate, and the sheep recognize his voice and come to him. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. After he has gathered his flock, he walks ahead of them, and they follow him because they know his voice. They won’t follow a stranger; they will run from him because they don’t know his voice.” Those who heard Jesus use this illustration didn’t understand what he meant, so he explained it to them: “I tell you the truth, I am the gate for the sheep. All who came before me were thieves and robbers. But the true sheep did not listen to them. Yes, I am the gate. Those who come in through me will be saved. They will come and go freely and will find good pastures. The thief’s purpose is to steal and kill and destroy. My purpose is to give them a rich and satisfying life.
“I have other sheep who are not of this flock.”
In the summer of 1994, I was sent to a small town in southern Alberta, for one of my two internships. My apartment was in a seniors complex, on the ground floor corner, and had windows on two sides of the living room, looking out over a lake surrounded by low hills and a few trees. Every morning, I would be out of bed, and sit in a rocking chair looking at the lake; the surface changed almost every hour it seemed; the colour was different depending on the sky. Some days it was wild in the winds, other days the surface was like glass. It was never the same blue, either. Some days it was a bright blue, others it was a steely grey, and yet other days looked like pearl. One particularly beautiful and sunny morning, as I sat with my coffee, the words of this psalm came into my head: “He leads me beside still waters, he restores my soul.”
A friend of mine in the US reflected on this Psalm, and here is the story she tells:
“There are times when I wish you could sit in the holiest of my holy grounds, the sanctuary. There are beautiful huge stained glass windows; my favorite is the smallest. It stands tall and slender, tucked in a corner, looking over the shoulders of those who come in and leave by a side door.
My father was abusive, and enjoyed quietly torturing me during worship services. It was painful emotionally and physically, and took all the inner strength a little girl could scrape up not to flinch or to move away from him. Each Sunday, after the service, while my parents were speaking with friends, I would curl up tightly in the corner of the pew and stare at this Good Shepherd holding a little lamb. The 5-year-old wanted so much to be that lamb, safe, secure, sought after, and beloved. Sunday after Sunday, I would look the way of the Good Shepherd and wish that the lamb in his arms was me.
My youth found me sitting in a pew with the Good Shepherd behind me. To be honest, I didn't want to be in church, so sitting with the Good Shepherd behind me seemed the best. You know how it is when someone is near you. You feel a presence, whether or not you see the person. That "feeling" causes you to turn, and search for that "presence". So, even with the Good Shepherd to my back, I turned and looked. He remained. I assumed that if I didn't look the Good Shepherd's way, he wouldn't notice me. I sat with the Good Shepherd behind me for a very long time. He heard my "bleating", saw me become tangled in the thorns of life, and this gentle Good Shepherd of my childhood was persistent. On the day that I gave my life to God, I was strangely pulled back to this sanctuary, alone, in the darkness brought by the rain that day. I sat in that pew, again curled up in the corner as tightly as a grown woman could. I looked, and saw the shepherd of my life; the shepherd who wept with me in my childhood, the shepherd who waited for me in the apathy of my youth, the shepherd whose feet were blistered, robes torn and hands bloodied as he looked for me, through the thorns and thickets, over the rocky roads, and holding onto a tree as he leaned forward to pull me back.”
One of my favourite parts of the Harry Potter movies, is the scenes at the beginning of each school year, where all the students and staff sit down to a feast together. The tables are more than loaded. What is significant to me, is that everyone – friend and enemy – sits down to the table together. Everyone is always welcome. It has echoes for me of the last meal Jesus shared with his friends – knowing someone was at the table who was not a friend, knowing it was Judas – yet the feast was given and everyone was welcomed, regardless of who they may be.
When we read the line “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies”, I think we tend to believe that this is God taking sides. I don’t believe it is. I believe this Psalm talks completely about the very nature of God as a shepherd who - one way or the other – finds a way to look after all the sheep, making sure every is inclusive. Rather than being an *exclusive* statement of faith – it is a totally inclusive description of the realm of God and how God operates.
John’s Gospel, at first read, seems quite exclusive. But then we go on and read more in-depth – but it is a confusing message. Jesus says anyone who doesn't enter the sheepfold by the gate is a thief and a bandit. The reasonable way to enter any place would be to go to the gate, and enter openly, right? Then he says, the only one likely to enter a sheepfold is a shepherd; the gatekeeper opens the gate, the shepherd enters. This shepherd calls the sheep, and they know his voice and follow him out. They won’t ever follow a stranger; they do not know the voice of strangers. Then, we are told that Jesus used this figure of speech with his followers, but they didn’t understand what he was saying!
In Jesus’ time, a sheepfold was made of a wall of rocks. Briars were placed on top of the wall to prevent any wild animal, robber or thief to enter. The only way into the sheepfold was by the gate. The shepherd would have a legitimate reason, so he would go in, gather his sheep and lead them out. Jesus continues in a surprising way: "I am the gate for the sheep.”
...and he says something even more difficult...”I have other sheep who are not of this fold.”
Sheepholds....sometimes, there were temporary holds built for the sheep, in the wilderness, away from the larger village holds where many different shepherds might bring sheep for the night. The temporary sheep holds had no gate, just a narrow opening of a foot or two. To keep the sheep safe from predators, the shepherd lay down in the opening, guarding the sheep with his own body. Thus the shepherd was also the gate.
Jesus says thieves and bandits seek to enter into the sheep hold another way. These do not offer life, but carry spiritual death with them. Swindlers who want us to trust them with our hopes and dreams. Or those who claim the church of prosperity, the temple of fame, placing their trust in riches, notoriety, and getting ahead of others. They say everything we need to be happy is found by joining a sports team, or a club, or by endless entertainment. They want us to trust them to show us the way to happiness. There are those who preach from the pulpit that God’s wish for you and me is to be rich, that God has chosen us above others to amass all the wealth we can, or that God loves us, but hates our enemies!
These thieves and bandits try to draw us away from the sheep hold, and tempt us. They tell us that we must think of ourselves first; don't let anyone take advantage of you. Look after number one! They may even look or sound like the shepherd. But the shepherd's voice calls our name and tells us: “You shall love God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength, and love your neighbour as yourself."
The gate is a two-way passage. It leads outward to a world where we can sit down to eat, in a world of God’s love, even with those who would waylay and harm. The gate offers us a way in to a place of sustenance and protection, and a way out to engage with confidence. We go in and out, confident, because with Jesus as the shepherd, we have nothing to fear. Even if we walk the dark paths of the shadow of death, God is with us. So we can't have abundant life if we remain locked inside the fold. Because then, we are in a prison of our own making.
So we come, full circle, back to the table. The shepherd who is willing to lie down across the opening into the sheepfold is also the one who prepares a feast where everyone is welcome, no matter who they are.
My friend Anna writes:
‘You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.’
It was when you asked me to help, O God, that I truly understood ... or at least understood
in the way that you asked me to understand.
You handed a chalice to me from the table you prepared and whispered, "For all." I gulped. "Oh God... really? For all?"
You whispered again, "Look into their eyes, offer to them what I have prepared. Some might be your enemies, but none are mine."
And so I stood, at the end of an aisle, with chalice in hand and wept at the thoughts
of my enemies welcomed in such a generous way. The table was not mine, the guest list certainly wasn't mine and the chalice never ran dry ... nor did the grace and mercy. Once again, I heard, "Do this in remembrance ...and remember, these are not my enemies."
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies, and then you say "All sit ... together." And still the chalice never runs dry for those around the table - not even for me.
The way of Jesus unlocks the gate, making it a passage to a new way of living. The way of Jesus calls us to leave the safety of the sheep hold and risk; but then we have the confidence of the Psalmist; the shepherd leads us to quiet waters, green fields, restored souls, cared for, protected even as we are out in the real world. A nourishing table and a full cup are prepared for us, so that we are fed and strengthened. We are able to go with the confidence that there is nothing we lack. The shepherd is with us, at all times. May it be so.
Sources:
- “My Story” by Anna Murdock.
- “The Good Shepherd” – a sermon by Fran Ota, April 2008.
- “In the presence of my enemies”, reflection by Anna Murdock, May 14, 2011.
