Chaplain Mel
Baars
April 29, 2012
John 10:11-18
“Our Model
Shepherd”
Lately, when
running around the perimeter, I have noticed more and more shepherds and their
flocks abiding the fields just beyond our walls. In this setting, perhaps more
than any other place in the world, we find ourselves surrounded with quite a
few, real life shepherds. Most Americans don’t have many occasions to meet a
live shepherd, at least not domestically. In fact, our closest encounters with
shepherds may typically happen during a Christmas nativity play-- A lanky group
of boys, wearing ill-fitting bath robes and holding a large sticks. As
embarrassing as this scene might seem to the preteens coerced to take part in
church nativity one more year, mumbling a few lines about being “afraid” when
the angels appear to give news of good tidings and great joy, none of us ever
quite gets just how difficult and dangerous the work of a shepherd really is.
Between the
exhausting task of keeping track of all the sheep, ensuring there is enough
water and food to keep the flock well and satisfied, and providing places of
rest, succor, and safety, shepherding is
a twenty-four hour, seven days a week kind of a job. One glance away from the
flock and chaos may ensue. Around these parts, especially in the aftermath of
decades of war, shepherding is risky business. Most of the area surrounding
Bagram where these shepherds herd their flocks has not been de-mined. This
means even a skilled shepherd can’t totally shield his flock from harm since,
at least the last time I checked, sheep don’t follow in single-file lines. In
Afghanistan, mines are modern day wolves, and the level of sacrifice demanded
of a shepherd may end up even costing his life.
The fourth
Sunday of Easter is known for its focus on Jesus as the Good Shepherd. Between
the green pastures and still waters found in Psalm 23 and the familiar lines
from John in which Jesus claims to be the good shepherd who lays down his life
for his sheep, we should have little doubt about just who is leading us and where
exactly we are being led-- into goodness and mercy all the days of our lives,
dwelling in the house of the Lord forever. Of course, this is all much easier
read and heard than it is fully understood
and believed.
I think Psalm
23 was the first scripture passage that I ever memorized completely. When I was
very young, I had a terrible time falling asleep at night, particularly if I
was alone. I was afraid of everything-- bugs and burglars, child kidnappers who
were surely lurking in the woods next to my house, and even shape-shifting
aliens which I was convinced could hide in the half-inch carpet fibers under my
bed so that even when I looked for them, I wouldn’t be able to see them. I
tortured my parents night after night, refusing to sleep without one of them
there to protect me. Looking back, I am surprised that we all survived this
particular season.
One night,
perhaps out of utter desperation, my mother tried a new strategy with me.
Picking up my pink Bible from the bookshelf, she opened it to Psalm 23 and
suggested that I read it over and over again until I fell asleep. Night after
night, I would read these words, again and again, until I no longer needed to
look down at the page. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of
death, I will fear no evil…I will fear no evil… I will fear no evil.” It was
about as close to contemplative prayer I have ever been. I would listen as my
heart would start to slow down, and I would relax, letting the words lull me
towards sleep. I wish that I could say it was the perfect fix. It wasn’t. I
still struggled with sleeping every night, but over the years, I have never
forgotten these handful of verses. And, at times, when fear and anxiety, mostly
of an irrational nature, creep upon me, I find myself reaching for these same
words, “I will fear no evil…” They are a reminder that no matter how bad things
feel or how lost I have become, I am still be led by this same good shepherd.
The Greek
adjective, kalos, most often translated as “good” in our
Bibles is a little deceiving. When we
hear a word like “good,” most of us assume that it means the opposite of “bad.” But, this word kalos is more than a polarity. It also suggests another meaning,
along the lines of the word “model.” A model is an example of something or
someone to be followed or imitated. In his life and interactions and
relationships in the world, Jesus is a model of what shepherding should be--
seeking the lost, bringing back the strayed, binding up the injured, and
strengthening the weak, even going so far to lay down his life for his sheep,
if that’s what it takes. Model shepherding cuts no corners. It spares no expense.
It knows no bounds but reaches to the very ends of the earth, all for one lost
sheep.
It is not
surprising that there are not many truly good shepherds out there. Model
shepherding is more than any of us can handle, at least every single day. There
are days when we may lead well, but there are other days- tired
days, frustrated days, days when we can barely get out of bed to do our work
much less expend the kind of energy that model shepherding requires. Thinking
that we can ever be the model shepherd all the time, without fail, is actually
when we get ourselves into trouble. When we delude ourselves into believing
that we have it all figured out, that we are so good that we don’t need a
shepherd after all, we often find that we have become the hired hands who see
the wolf coming and flee, not really caring that the sheep will be snatched and
scattered even further.
As people who
are striving to be good leaders, this is not the kind of news we want to hear.
As a part of the military, as soldiers and sailors, airmen and marines, we
recite our creeds, saying out loud that we will never quit or leave a comrade
behind. When the going gets tough, gets even worse than tough, we claim that we
will remain faithful, going the whole distance, never wavering. But, if we are
honest with ourselves, we know there are dicey moments and experiences when we fail,
when we stumble, perhaps even fall. We struggle with doubts, with poor
decisions, with outbursts we later regret.
We may all be
leaders, but we can only be good leaders when we remember that we are, too,
being led. There is only one model shepherd, just one. When we follow this shepherd, when we model our lives as this
shepherd has taught us-- seeking the lost, bringing back the strayed, binding
up the injured, and strengthening the weak-- we share with the world the gift
of God’s grace and love and mercy. We also spread the good news of our
shepherd’s voice a little bit further. When we follow this shepherd, we
demonstrate what model shepherding is all about.
A few years
ago, Time magazine ran a story called
“How the Shepherd saved the SEAL.” It sounds a bit like a children’s tale, at
least on the surface. What Time
reported, however, was far from childish fantasy. Instead, it was an account of
how a Navy SEAL, shot down over Kunar province, was rescued through the aid and
hospitality of an Afghan shepherd.
Risking his
life and the safety of his family, this shepherd brought this SEAL, this one
lost sheep, into his village, offering him a place of sanctuary. When the
Taliban demanded that the villagers hand him over to them, the village chief
boldly responded, "The American is our guest, and we won't give him up as
long as there's a man or a woman left alive in our village."[1] To insure
the SEAL’s safety, the shepherd and his fellow villagers moved him into a
stable for the night, protecting him from the wolves howling at their gates,
even when this put the whole village in danger. Then, the shepherd made a
six-hour trek to the nearest U.S. base, likely traversing through unfriendly
territory, to report that this one missing SEAL had been found. The shepherd
went to great lengths just to save this one sheep.
“Which one of
you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the
ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds
it? When he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders and rejoices.”[2]
This is the
Easter message. Jesus returns to us from the grave, promising never to let us
go, even if it means he will travel to the very ends of the earth to find where
we have wandered. The relationship between shepherd and sheep is not dependent
on the sheep, but instead, is all about the shepherd, what the shepherd does,
how the shepherd reaches out into the world, gently calling us by name. The
shepherd knows us well, but it’s not just us
that he knows and calls, not just us
who recognize his voice. The good shepherd reminds us that there are other
sheep— many, many, many sheep. Sheep that we can’t begin to imagine. Sheep that
we can barely fathom belonging because they are so different from us.
But, Jesus is
going to find them, too-- every last one of them-- bringing them also into the
fold, into God’s holy family, so that when all is said and done, there will be one flock with one shepherd. This is what the Good Shepherd promises. This is God’s promise, not mine, not anyone
else’s. May it be so. May we so believe. Amen.
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