Fourth Easter
Acts 4:5-12; I John 3:16-24; John 10:16-24
Two confirmation students are studying at a table in the church
library—working on their learning packets—one has a pencil poised
over the answer sheet making notations—suddenly the student across from
him grabs his pencil—grasps it between two hands and snaps it in half.
“Why did you do that?” I ask. “Do what?” comes the reply.
“Why did you snap his pencil in half?” There is a momentary pause
and then the student replies, “Genetics?”
Choices are a part of our lives—And the reasons given for why we make the choices we do are many and varied—our environment—our conditioning—our genetics—our free will—all are part or all of the reason for our actions. Life is filled with choices—from decisions about a classmates pencil to life defining moments.—We met with the high school counselor this week for the obligatory Junior pre-college search meeting and she handed us a collection of possible colleges and universities to begin considering based on interests and preferences— At this time of year there are untold numbers of high school graduates making college choices—there are thousands of college graduates selecting career tracks and job offers—and then there are the marriage proposals being accepted. I met with a young couple the other day who are planning to get married—The simple part I explained to them is planning the wedding ceremony—there are many but a limited number of choices to be made before they begin the interesting task of building a life together and dealing with the eternally repeated question of choice that is the basis of every marriage “What do you want to do tonight?”
In the midst of our church construction project it is hard not to be overwhelmed by all the choices that must be made—function—design—aesthetic. I find myself thinking back one year—two years—to the decisions made in faith that brings us to this day and the possibility to look at the structure rising outside that window. I think back 40 years to the decision to start a new congregation in the emerging suburbs north of Chicago—a choice that has touched thousands of lives in ways few will ever know. There are choices we make each day—and then there are what might be called ultimate choices. In our lessons for today we are confronted by the meaning of an ultimate choice.
Speaking of himself, Jesus identifies himself as the Good Shepherd—the one who cares for those who follow him—and he declares that the mark of the Good Shepherd is that he makes the ultimate choice to lay down his life for the sheep. Jesus stresses in this metaphor that there is no requirement that he give his life—He could follow the example of the hired hand and run away—but he chooses to give his very life.
We live in a world that tends to avoid taking responsibility for choices made—we try to find ways to run away. Most responsibility is couched in the language of legal accountability, culpability and liability. We do all that we can to avoid responsibility for poor or bad choices—Teenagers make some very bad choices in a nationally reported hazing incident and the media questions where the school and the police were rather than asking how the students could do such things to each other. How could one human being choose to so abuse another—a classmate?
There are choices that diminish us—choices we make that deny our humanity—reveal our sinfulness—And there are choices that rise to something higher—that reveal the divine. This past week the confirmation students were interviewed by church council members—and one of the questions regularly asked is “Did Jesus have to die?” The purpose of this question is to expose the very point of our lessons today. For our salvation—for our forgiveness of sins—there was no other way than that Jesus die.—Jesus must die if our sins are to be forgiven—But—and this is an important “but”—Jesus was free to choose not to die. As he states so clearly, “I lay down my life in order to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord.” This is the fullest proof of Christ’s humanity—to exercise the freedom we have all been given as God’s creations to choose—to make choices.
William Willimon notes that “In 1943, the French Philosopher Jean Paul Sartre wrote Being and Nothingness. In that book, Sartre asserted that the thing that makes us human, that which separates us from the animals, is our ability to choose. In every circumstance in life, we have the freedom to choose. Even when we don’t realize we are choosing, we are choosing, said Sartre. All circumstances in life, even those that appear to be completely constricted offer us room for choice. For Sartre, our lives are not a given—rather, our lives are created. We exist—that is a given. But we don’t really exist as human beings until we experience the freedom of our choices.”
Our text presents a classic picture of the Good Shepherd --the self sacrificing and self giving shepherd --the image of selfless sacrificial love. And our second lesson goes so far as to suggest that we ought to follow Christ’s example and lay down our lives for one another. The writer of First John identifies clearly the need for love of others to be expressed not only in words but “in truth and action.” To live a life of sacrifice and self-giving—From such an understanding we quickly conclude that a real Christian wife will bear all things for the marriage and children—and a real Christian husband will find a way to set himself aside for his wife and family But there is a very important point in the lesson Jesus says, “For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life in order to take it up again.”
We need to be careful to not forget that there is only one Good Shepherd—only one who can choose not only to lay down his life but also take it up again. Many have given their lives—given their lives for money—for fame—even given their lives for others—but only one has had the power to give his life and take it up again. There is only one Good Shepherd—And while the example is important to our calling as Christians it is important to remember that there is only one who is called the Good Shepherd—Our sacrifice of self to follow His example is true only if it leads to life—the life He promised through his death. To sacrifice our selves for the wrong reason is a deadly trap.
That afternoon was one of the most frustrating I think I have ever had—I tried to understand—I tried to be loving and caring as I bandaged the cuts on her legs as she sat in my office. She admitted that he was violent—but she also feared for the kids—she had no job—no place to go—no relatives or family—no way to support herself—She told me she just needed to work harder at being a good suburban wife—She told me she was sure if she only tried harder it would be better—She had committed her life—and no matter what I said or suggested she could not take up a new life—She could see no future other than the one she was living—no choices other than the ones she had already made—she would continue to die in her old life.
The giving of self for all the wrong reasons—or no reasons at all. “After all I’ve done for you...” echoes from the past—the calculating assessment of value—You owe me. “If you really cared you would...” “Buy me this” -- “Treat me nicer” --”Give me that” Jesus said the wolf snatches and scatters We close off the future with our own fears--needs--expectations and lack of faith. The greatest choice has already been made for us—God chose us—In the moment of our baptism we were sealed by the mark of the Holy Spirit—All the choices that come to us after that moment are subject to God’s grace and power—they are moments intended to lead us into the pathways already traveled by our Good Shepherd. If only we could follow his example
To lay down our lives facing the things that limit and destroy us in order to take up a new life Our fullest humanity will be found in experiencing the freedom of our choices—not the guilt or burden of our mistakes. To embrace fully the care of the Good Shepherd who chooses us. We all know the first words of the 23rd Psalm—The LORD is my Shepherd—not my job—not my talent—not my bank account—not my house—not even my family—only the Lord Jesus offers us a new life today—One that may make us pass through the shadow of death for our old lives A gift of grace and communion New life in Christ—that is ours and ours alone
In the nineteenth century a story is told about two ministers who went on holiday together— wandering about the hills of Ireland and Scotland. High on the moors they met a shepherd boy and stopped to talk with him. They found this boy had never been to school, and that he knew nothing about the Christian faith. The two ministers finally read him the 23rd Psalm, and to help him find a personal faith, they got him to repeat the words "The Lord is my Shepherd." The next year they were back in the same hills. This time, they called at a cottage to ask for a drink of water. The lady of the house noticed them looking at a photograph of a boy above the fireplace. "That's my son," she said. "He died last winter while tending the sheep in a snowstorm, but there was a curious thing about him. His right hand was clutching the fourth finger of his left hand." "We met your son last year,” replied one of the ministers. “Since he was a shepherd boy, we taught him to repeat the first line of the 23rd Psalm, and we told him whenever he said it to himself, to pause at the fourth word. The Lord is MY Shepherd and then to think this Psalm was meant for me!"
The words are so familiar and yet, the words are not easily understood. We struggle to recognize the one who truly is the good shepherd “I am the good shepherd; I know my own and my own know me.” This day we are invited to once more meet our Lord in the breaking of bread and the pouring of the wine. In the moments of prayer and the hymns that we sing This day we are reminded of the many moments each day that we have opportunity to choose the way of the good shepherd—choose to follow in the choices we make concerning our gifts of time, talent and money To care for the sick--befriend the troubled—feed the hungry and shelter the homeless The self-giving example of our Good Shepherd still leads us into troubled places where peace is yearned for—violence threatens—and conflicts remain unresolved.—There are always choices to be made—this may be God’s greatest gift—freedom to choose in the sure and certain knowledge that even when we choose poorly God is with us—walking through the valley and the shadow—on our way to the promised moment when Christ takes up his life once more—and ours with him—Giving life in the midst of death.
Forty years ago someone chose to begin a church in this place—It was not a choice guided by genetics—I believe it was a choice guided by God—the same God who continues to provide us with opportunities to choose—to choose to worship—to learn—to serve—to be faithful to the one who first chose us—the Good Shepherd.
Amen.