Sunday, May 8, 2022

May 8, 2022 - The Fourth Sunday of Easter

Lectionary Readings

Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever! Amen.

            The Good Shepherd is a beloved image for many Christians. Some of the earliest depictions of Jesus found in shrines and catacombs are as a shepherd. For Jews, the shepherd was a regal figure who followed in the line of Rachel, Moses, and David. Here at St. Luke’s the Good Shepherd stained glass window in the Baptistry has welcomed generations into this sacred space, beckoning them into the green pastures of God’s gracious love. Personally, this image of Jesus is one I cherish. At home, I have a prayer desk where I pray Morning and Evening Prayer each day and on the shelf, I have an icon of the Good Shepherd. It’s no accident that Psalm 23 is one of the most treasured and memorized passages of Scripture – it assures us of God’s comforting presence with us in all times and places.

            As we continue the sermon series in Revelation, we learn something about the character of our Good Shepherd in the section we heard this morning. Last week, we were introduced to the superhero of Revelation: the Lamb. Jesus the Lamb shows us that God’s power comes not through violence, tyranny, or manipulation, but rather through an unwavering and undying commitment to the way of love, regardless of the consequences. Today we heard that “the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd.” The Lamb is the Good Shepherd.

            This, of course, is a paradox. How can the same creature be both a lamb and the shepherd who cares for the flock? The reason why both are true is that all things are held together by Christ. In him, all divisions cease, all tensions are resolved, all dissonance is harmonized. We heard this in the hymn we sang before the Gospel – Jesus is both lamb and shepherd, both prince and slave, both peace-maker and sword-bringer. God is both closer to us than we are to ourselves and also completely beyond us. The Spirit both comforts and challenges.

            This is a lesson we so desperately need to learn – that all things hold together in Christ. His grace is big enough, his love is sure enough, his mercy is deep enough, his peace is wide enough. Consider how the opening of today’s passage reads, “I looked, and there was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb.” All nations, tribes, people, and languages. When the plaques arrive for the new icons, this passage is quoted on the plaque for the Pentecost icon. This was the vision for that icon – to reflect the beautiful and wonderful diversity of God seen through all of God’s beloved children. Someone told me this week that they showed a picture of the icon to someone who is a marginalized minority. Upon seeing the icon, this person began to weep and said “I’ve never seen anyone who looks like me in a church.” That’s what beloved community is all about.

            Every Sunday, we say in the Creed that we believe in “one holy, catholic, and apostolic church.” Sometimes the word “catholic” can trip people up, especially people who used to be or would never choose to be Roman Catholic. To be clear – this isn’t anti-Roman Catholic sentiment, but the point has to be made that no denomination has the claim or the trademark on being catholic. The word “catholic” comes from two Greek words: kata meaning “with respect to” and holos meaning “whole.” So catholic is a word that means “universal” or “all-encompassing.” When we say that we believe in the catholic church we aren’t saying anything about the Pope or Rome, we are professing our faith in the one and undivided Body of Christ. We are catholic every bit as the Church of Rome is because there is one Lord, one faith, one Baptism – and they all belong to our Good Shepherd.

            This catholicity is what Revelation depicts and it is what the Pentecost icon calls our attention to. And this catholicity is a hallmark of Anglicanism and something about our tradition that I so much appreciate and value. What unites us is not that we all read the news in the same way, not that we all vote the same way, not that we all dress the same way, not that we all prefer the same style of music, not that we all think the same way, not that we all speak the same way, not that we all interpret Scripture in the same way, not that we have the same theology. This is what so many other denominations are defined by – a set of beliefs, a particular set of rules, a shared interpretation of the Bible. What unites us though is our commitment to common prayer. We are joined together by the prayers that we hold in common with one another.

            She might have that campaign sign in her front yard and you have the other one, he might get his news from that network and you from the other. But we still say the Lord’s Prayer together, we are equally in need of God’s mercy, we all come to the altar rail with empty hands and share in the banquet of the Lamb, we are all sheep in the flock of the Good Shepherd. And if we are not defined by our stance on social or political issues, then those issues ought not to be a cause for our division. Sadly, of course, we are often divided along such lines. If we forget what unites us, then anything can divide us.

            This unity without uniformity is not easy though. We prefer clear answers – this or that, black or white, yes or no. We don’t like perhaps, grey, or maybe. But Jesus is both Shepherd and Lamb, meaning that the Christian life is one of paradox and tension. It’s the same when we share in the Eucharist – are we receiving bread and wine or body and blood? Yes. It’s not as simple as picking a side and just ignoring anything that contradicts our perspective. Again, all things are held together in Christ. In him, paradoxes can exist, two things can be true at the same time, and metaphors can be mixed. Neat and tidy answers are often closer to idolatry than they are to the truth.

            At this point I’m not speaking to society, I’m speaking to Christians, to sheep in the flock of the Good Shepherd. Today, I am not going to address this week’s news related to the Supreme Court; that will come when we’re dealing with news and not leaks and when I’ve had more time to listen, pray, and discern what needs to be said. But, to be sure, the Church ought to have the first and the last word on the most significant ethics discussion our society has faced in at least a generation. But that’s a conversation for another time.

            For today, what Revelation says to us is that followers of Jesus can hold things in tension – no group has a monopoly on being right and no group has a monopoly on being wrong. There are no easy answers here, and speaking in absolutes is to forget that it is in Christ alone, not in our logic, not in our reasoning, not in our arguments, are all things resolved. Again, I’m not speaking to the media, to the pundits, or the people out there – I’m speaking to those who are in Christ: humility and a commitment to catholicty and common prayer is the only way forward without ceding ground to the forces of evil which seek to further divide and control us.

            Our Good Shepherd does not intend for us to perish in the valley of the shadow of death, but rather to be refreshed by streams of still waters. That is the comforting vision of Psalm 23 and in Revelation, we heard that the Lamb who is our shepherd will guide us to springs of the water of life. Jesus is our thirst quencher. And we’re all parched. We heard that those singing to the Lamb are those who have come out of the great ordeal. Depression, addiction, partisanship, poverty, emotional trauma, health issues – these are ordeals that we all deal with and they have a way of draining us.

            For the original recipients of the letter of Revelation, the ordeal was resistance to the Empire. Living in the Roman Empire meant being told how to live and who to worship, and these things were in conflict with what it meant to follow the way of the Good Shepherd. In this section of Revelation, John writes about the opening of the seven seals, which are descriptions of the consequences of human sin. This is where the image of the four horsemen comes from. The passage that we heard today is an interlude between the opening of the sixth and seventh seals. It is a way of reassuring those who are suffering in these ordeals of war, famine, plagues, and death that suffering is not eternal and that the Lamb will conquer through love. God will wipe away all tears and refresh us with springs of water.

            If you’ve ever been really thirsty, you know the discomfort it causes. It’s hard to talk when your mouth is very dry, you feel faint and weak, you feel like you just can’t go on. As Jesus tells the woman at the well in John 4, he is the living water. Elsewhere he says that anyone who is thirsty can come to him and be refreshed. I don’t know all the specifics of your ordeals, but because we are all humans, I know that we all have them. Jesus has the water of life to refresh us, and wants nothing more than for us to drink from him.

            The image of the still waters of Psalm 23 is one that resonates with so many people. The fact that the water is still is important. Animals like to drink near at still waters more than they do babbling brooks. For one, still water is quiet, and so the noise of approaching predators is not drowned out. Furthermore, flowing water carries the scent of the animal downstream, putting them in danger; but still waters absorb that smell and become a place of safety. In other words, God wants us to stop and drink from the waters of life so that evil has a harder time finding us. When we regularly drink from the springs of God’s water, it becomes far easier for our cups to be overflowing with grace.

            No, I’m not saying that if you just come to church every Sunday that nothing bad will ever happen to you – of course it will. But if we know where the still waters are, we can find rest and refreshment far more easily when we are thirsty. We can find those springs of waters in prayer, in pursuing justice so that it flows as an everlasting stream, in the gift of the Eucharist in which a bit of water is always added to the wine to remind us of how when Jesus was pierced on the Cross that both water and blood flowed from his side. The Eucharist nourishes us in that mercy and love. And the more we come together as beloved community, the more we will be united in the catholicity of our faith in which we sing praises to the Lamb who is also our Good Shepherd.

            Whatever ordeal you are facing, know that the Good Shepherd is with you, his rod and staff are there to protect, comfort, and guide you. God wants nothing more than to lead you to the still waters in which you can be still and hear the voice of the Good Shepherd calling your name in love. This week, pray Psalm 23 once a day and let God give you the water of life.