Fourth Sunday of Eater 2023

The Good Shepherd Sunday

Acts 2:42-47, Psalm 23, 1 Peter 2:19-25, John 10:1-10

Rev. Betsey Moe

 

“By Name”

I had a teacher in high school who was especially gifted with knowing names. His name was Sam Adams, and he would stroll down the hall, which was crowded between classes, and wave and call students by their names, as many as were in his line of sight.  He made everybody feel like a somebody.

Mr. Adams was a math teacher, and a good one. But he was more than a math teacher because he understood us to be more than math students. We weren’t objects to be taught; we were subjects, real people with stories and abilities of our own. Mr. Adams knew that if we trusted that he cared about us, we would care about the math. And it worked; student math scores soared in Mr. Adams’ class. Because we were known, we flourished.

In today’s scripture lesson from John, we hear about a shepherd who knows his sheep “by name.” Knowing sheep by name was actually a common practice for shepherds in ancient Palestine. According to one commentator, they would have assigned names like “Black-ear” or “Brownface” or “Cut-leg” in order to keep track of their sheep. The sheeps’ names represented their histories and temperaments. This same commentator said that each evening, the shepherd himself would stand at the opening to the sheep-pen, acting as both shepherd and gate and forcing these named sheep to enter underneath his lowered staff so that he could inspect each one for injury and find out if Black-ear or Brownface or Cut-leg were missing.

Not everyone who worked with the sheep showed the same kind of care. In fact, the central contrast that drives this passage is between the shepherd, who knows the sheep by name, and the thieves and bandits and hired hands who do not know the sheep. Thieves and hired hands see the sheep as objects, as commodity – not as precious creatures entrusted to their care. These other authorities – whether religious or civil – were those who wielded power over the people but did not care about their humanity, their well-being. Only the one who knew the sheep’s stories and names would be willing to lay down his life for the sheep; only that kind of shepherd could be trusted.

As readers of the gospel of John, we have seen that Jesus did, really, value names: He said to Simon Peter the first time he met him, “You are Simon, son of John” (1:42).  He shouted to his friend in the tomb, “Lazarus, come out!” (11:43). And then there’s that unforgettable call in the garden the morning Jesus rose: “Mary!” (20:16). Names and, even more importantly, the people who carried those names mattered to Jesus, the Good Shepherd.

Of course, individuals still matter to God. No matter how minor a character a person considers themselves, their name, their humanity, matters. And this is astounding, considering how vast a pasture we live in. There are almost 8 billion people alive on this earth, each of them precious to God. But how does God show that care? Largely, through us, the Body of Christ. He told his disciples in John chapter 14 that after he left, they would be the ones to continue his work. They – we – would do even greater works than he did.

Knowing and caring for God’s flock is no small task. Right now there are people wondering if anyone cares: victims of violence in Sudan, citizens terrorized in the streets of Haiti, parents frantically trying to find healthcare here in Guatemala, migrants making their way through the Sonoran desert. A birds-eye view of this world pasture would more resemble the needy crowds that Jesus encountered in his ministry – crowds described as “harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.” Caring for these frantic and fearful crowds is an overwhelming prospect. But it all begins by caring like a good shepherd about names. It all begins by meeting the other sheep in this pasture, one sheep at a time.

Knowing names and stories – caring about individuals – stands in the face of the way much of Christian Service has been carried out in our history. Perhaps because the task of caring for one another seems so large, we have taken impersonal approaches to serving and have attempted to solve problems without getting to know people. Traditional mission trips, so many of which are carried out here in Guatemala because of its proximity to the U.S., are about getting a lot of usually physical work done in a short amount of time. Perhaps because of our “progress” mentality, it is easy to slip into treating others as objects to be acted upon or ministered to. But when a person is given time or attention – when we seek to know someone by name and story – that someone becomes a subject, an actor in God’s drama, whose life and actions have implications for us and for the whole world. When we take the time to know another person’s name and story, a deeper compassion is awakened and all of us are encouraged to become the full human beings we were created to be.

Last week, I was traveling as part of my work with CEDEPCA with a group of pastors from Virginia, going from place to place hearing about different ministries of transformation. One of our stops was a women’s organization in Xela where I had gone two or three times before, meeting the same women each time for a brief visit. It is a group where theological training is offered to women, teaching them their value and their rights. Before driving there, my co-facilitator and I noticed a mistake on the itinerary. We were set to be there for four hours rather than our usual one and a half. How would we fill the time? But it was too late to make a change.

 The time started out with the women making a presentation about their various programs and then sharing their testimonies – testimonies like, “I used to be afraid and timid, and then through being a part of this group, I gained confidence…” And then we took a break and drank some corn tea. And because we weren’t in a rush, I got to sit with this woman named Dilma and chat more about life and leadership in the church. I told her about my kids, she told me about hers, I learned how passionate she is about teaching and preaching, and the little openings she has had into using her gifts. After the Cafecito, the group heard more testimonies and asked more questions, and then we had lunch – and we had time to linger over the food, to share more stories and appreciate the beauty in each other’s faces. The four hours flew by – and at the end, we were all taking pictures together, sharing really hearty hugs, and taking each other’s names so we could communicate on Whatsapp and Facebook. These were the same women I had seen on previous visits, but had not taken the time to get to know. It was a completely different experience. Who knows where those relationships and connections will lead?

 When we follow in the way of the shepherd who gave his life for his sheep – when we die to ourselves and enter into relationships with people whose experiences are different from our own, our stereotypes fall, our perspectives sharpen, our fears dissipate, and we experience one another as God experiences us: as subjects whose actions influence the kingdom of God.

 In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen.