Both Lamb and Shepherd
Texts: Reflecting on Psalm 23, John 10:22-30 and Revelation 7:9-17
It has become a part of the traditional readings, the fourth Sunday after Easter is often called “Shepherding Sunday.” Some of you might remember this theme from last year. All of the readings evoke some of the most comforting images of our faith, drawn from some of the most familiar passages in Scripture. For many of us, the sheep and shepherd imagery was what we were raised on as children, so much so that now the 23rd Psalm has become almost universal at funerals today. We remember it from our childhood, from when we were starting out in life, and it gives us a sense of comfort when we grapple with life’s end. Yet in the same way with well-known, dearly loved images such as this, there is such a thing as being too familiar with it. I’ve been preaching about that a lot… it seems…
But I think it’s good for us to come back to these old standbys… these foundational images of our faith that give us comfort… not just to latch onto, but to really see why they are so powerful even all these years later.
There is none an image so comforting as that of the Good Shepherd. It evokes mental images of perfectly manicured green meadows, radiantly blue skies, still pools of crystal-clear water, and little white dots of sheep covering the countryside. It’s better-than-postcard quality.
But that’s the trouble… when all of these passages were written, everyone who would hear them knew that shepherding was not an idyllic, quiet, pastoral postcard. It was a dirty, smelly, and often thankless job, working with extraordinarily stupid and skittish animals who will drown themselves if panicked and go the wrong way. Those who heard these passages for the first time would hear “the Lord’s my shepherd” and would instantly feel a connection to God, who is willing to get dirty hands in caring for the sheep. In the gospel of John, this goes even further, that the Shepherd is willing to risk or sacrifice his life for the safety of the sheep. This is certainly less tranquil, but a much more down-to-earth image. It may actually be more comforting or at least reassuring than the picture postcard: God is already with us in the midst of life, amidst all the dirt and hard lessons that is a part of life. The Lord is my shepherd… the one who is willing to be with me to guide me when I am scared and skittish.
Contrasting to all of this is the other image that floats to the surface today. It’s an image that’s also present in stained glass, and at least for this season, adorns one of the banners here at the front: the Lamb. Yet while related to sheep and shepherds, it seems to be inconsistent to talk about Jesus as the Lamb, when we’ve just invested so much time identifying with the Shepherd.
But I think that’s the point… the book of Revelation, plays with this contrast to reveal something to us about the nature of God. For those of you who came to the Revelation course last fall, you might remember this: when John first introduces the image in Chapters four and five, it almost comes off like a Monty Python sketch. It’s all in the build-up. It is a magnificent scene of heavenly worship, images of four living creatures, and elders surrounding the throne of God from which lightning and thunder flashes. As the scene focuses in onto the throne, there is the image of a scroll in the right hand of God, and the call for the one who is worthy to open it. This one is called, the Lion of Judah, the Root of David, the one who conquers! It’s a strong and powerful image! We know this to be Jesus, already, identified earlier in the book… after all this build-up, we’re expecting a powerful, shining, kingly figure to stride onto the scene, grab that scroll and begin dispensing its contents with some force! Yet when the camera finally focuses in… it’s a lamb! A cute and fluffy lamb with big beady, innocent eyes! We don’t get the real sense of this, but in the language that John uses, he uses a term that makes the lamb even more vulnerable and innocent than it already is! Translated from Greek, the best English equivalent is Lambykins…
The image of the shepherd is something we can live with… because even that exudes a gentle protective strength... but a helpless, newborn lamb? We don’t expect this, because we’re looking for something strong, something powerful. Our natural reaction is to say… okay, very funny… where is he really? Where is the Lion of Judah? Where’s the Root of David? After all this build-up where is he? What? is he behind the lamb?
No… he is the lamb… and that’s precisely the point. John reveals Christ in the image of one of the most helpless images imaginable. Yet in this vulnerability, we begin to learn something about God’s strength. In the reading from this Sunday, John brings back that image of the lamb as a proclamation of hope, saying “…for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.” (Rev. 7:17) It is the only place in the entire Bible where lamb and shepherd come together in the same passage. These contrasting images are brought together… and they make an incredibly powerful point. Using the most vulnerable image imaginable, John shows that even evil at its strongest instant cannot overcome God’s weakest moment.
The shepherd becomes the Lamb, the lamb becomes the shepherd… as one of us… more vulnerable than the weakest of us, and yet through this shows us God’s unlimited strength. Yet when we really think about it, that is precisely what the Easter message is all about. God’s strength revealed through what everyone else judges to be weakness and vulnerability. But there’s also something else here, that is even more comforting, and more powerful than the image of God as shepherd alone. As comforting and caring as the shepherd image is, it can still be distant: the guy with the crook over there someplace looking out for those dangers, to protect with rod and staff. The image of the lamb as the vulnerable one is far more intimate: in our midst, who is far closer than we can ever know, and leads us as one of us.
The problem is, in 21st Century North American culture, we have come to value strength and resolve, toughness and personal moral fortitude. Political leaders are afraid to show any sort of vulnerability, because maybe they or we are afraid that they cannot protect us from the evils of the world. It has gone so far as officials seem to be afraid to admit their mistakes… charging on ahead, staying the course… and unfortunately, it seems, running into much more trouble. Perhaps we need a reminder that even Winston Churchill admitted to personal vulnerabilities and mistakes. After all, part of the Christian claim to faith is that it is precisely in those moments of vulnerability that we realize God’s power.
God fundamentally understands what it is to be weak and helpless. That’s what the cross represents... but Easter also reminds us of what real strength is… God’s strength. That once it was all said and done, once Jesus had become the weakest and most vulnerable… like the sacrificial lamb… God showed us that not even death itself has the final say. Easter morning teaches us that. The shepherd is the lamb, the lamb is the shepherd. A paradox to be sure, but one that has such a depth of meaning that it can be a great comfort to us in the midst of no matter what we might face in life. It’s something that even twenty centuries later, we’re still learning.
Amen.
It has become a part of the traditional readings, the fourth Sunday after Easter is often called “Shepherding Sunday.” Some of you might remember this theme from last year. All of the readings evoke some of the most comforting images of our faith, drawn from some of the most familiar passages in Scripture. For many of us, the sheep and shepherd imagery was what we were raised on as children, so much so that now the 23rd Psalm has become almost universal at funerals today. We remember it from our childhood, from when we were starting out in life, and it gives us a sense of comfort when we grapple with life’s end. Yet in the same way with well-known, dearly loved images such as this, there is such a thing as being too familiar with it. I’ve been preaching about that a lot… it seems…
But I think it’s good for us to come back to these old standbys… these foundational images of our faith that give us comfort… not just to latch onto, but to really see why they are so powerful even all these years later.
There is none an image so comforting as that of the Good Shepherd. It evokes mental images of perfectly manicured green meadows, radiantly blue skies, still pools of crystal-clear water, and little white dots of sheep covering the countryside. It’s better-than-postcard quality.
But that’s the trouble… when all of these passages were written, everyone who would hear them knew that shepherding was not an idyllic, quiet, pastoral postcard. It was a dirty, smelly, and often thankless job, working with extraordinarily stupid and skittish animals who will drown themselves if panicked and go the wrong way. Those who heard these passages for the first time would hear “the Lord’s my shepherd” and would instantly feel a connection to God, who is willing to get dirty hands in caring for the sheep. In the gospel of John, this goes even further, that the Shepherd is willing to risk or sacrifice his life for the safety of the sheep. This is certainly less tranquil, but a much more down-to-earth image. It may actually be more comforting or at least reassuring than the picture postcard: God is already with us in the midst of life, amidst all the dirt and hard lessons that is a part of life. The Lord is my shepherd… the one who is willing to be with me to guide me when I am scared and skittish.
Contrasting to all of this is the other image that floats to the surface today. It’s an image that’s also present in stained glass, and at least for this season, adorns one of the banners here at the front: the Lamb. Yet while related to sheep and shepherds, it seems to be inconsistent to talk about Jesus as the Lamb, when we’ve just invested so much time identifying with the Shepherd.
But I think that’s the point… the book of Revelation, plays with this contrast to reveal something to us about the nature of God. For those of you who came to the Revelation course last fall, you might remember this: when John first introduces the image in Chapters four and five, it almost comes off like a Monty Python sketch. It’s all in the build-up. It is a magnificent scene of heavenly worship, images of four living creatures, and elders surrounding the throne of God from which lightning and thunder flashes. As the scene focuses in onto the throne, there is the image of a scroll in the right hand of God, and the call for the one who is worthy to open it. This one is called, the Lion of Judah, the Root of David, the one who conquers! It’s a strong and powerful image! We know this to be Jesus, already, identified earlier in the book… after all this build-up, we’re expecting a powerful, shining, kingly figure to stride onto the scene, grab that scroll and begin dispensing its contents with some force! Yet when the camera finally focuses in… it’s a lamb! A cute and fluffy lamb with big beady, innocent eyes! We don’t get the real sense of this, but in the language that John uses, he uses a term that makes the lamb even more vulnerable and innocent than it already is! Translated from Greek, the best English equivalent is Lambykins…
The image of the shepherd is something we can live with… because even that exudes a gentle protective strength... but a helpless, newborn lamb? We don’t expect this, because we’re looking for something strong, something powerful. Our natural reaction is to say… okay, very funny… where is he really? Where is the Lion of Judah? Where’s the Root of David? After all this build-up where is he? What? is he behind the lamb?
No… he is the lamb… and that’s precisely the point. John reveals Christ in the image of one of the most helpless images imaginable. Yet in this vulnerability, we begin to learn something about God’s strength. In the reading from this Sunday, John brings back that image of the lamb as a proclamation of hope, saying “…for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.” (Rev. 7:17) It is the only place in the entire Bible where lamb and shepherd come together in the same passage. These contrasting images are brought together… and they make an incredibly powerful point. Using the most vulnerable image imaginable, John shows that even evil at its strongest instant cannot overcome God’s weakest moment.
The shepherd becomes the Lamb, the lamb becomes the shepherd… as one of us… more vulnerable than the weakest of us, and yet through this shows us God’s unlimited strength. Yet when we really think about it, that is precisely what the Easter message is all about. God’s strength revealed through what everyone else judges to be weakness and vulnerability. But there’s also something else here, that is even more comforting, and more powerful than the image of God as shepherd alone. As comforting and caring as the shepherd image is, it can still be distant: the guy with the crook over there someplace looking out for those dangers, to protect with rod and staff. The image of the lamb as the vulnerable one is far more intimate: in our midst, who is far closer than we can ever know, and leads us as one of us.
The problem is, in 21st Century North American culture, we have come to value strength and resolve, toughness and personal moral fortitude. Political leaders are afraid to show any sort of vulnerability, because maybe they or we are afraid that they cannot protect us from the evils of the world. It has gone so far as officials seem to be afraid to admit their mistakes… charging on ahead, staying the course… and unfortunately, it seems, running into much more trouble. Perhaps we need a reminder that even Winston Churchill admitted to personal vulnerabilities and mistakes. After all, part of the Christian claim to faith is that it is precisely in those moments of vulnerability that we realize God’s power.
God fundamentally understands what it is to be weak and helpless. That’s what the cross represents... but Easter also reminds us of what real strength is… God’s strength. That once it was all said and done, once Jesus had become the weakest and most vulnerable… like the sacrificial lamb… God showed us that not even death itself has the final say. Easter morning teaches us that. The shepherd is the lamb, the lamb is the shepherd. A paradox to be sure, but one that has such a depth of meaning that it can be a great comfort to us in the midst of no matter what we might face in life. It’s something that even twenty centuries later, we’re still learning.
Amen.
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