Easter 4 2014

Easter 4 2014

I have to confess that I have a bit of an issue with today’s Gospel reading. Whether it is implied or explicit, Jesus seems to be calling out the clergy.

Now, I admit that Jesus is technically talking about the Scribes and the Pharisees when he’s referring to thieves and bandits—but, after all, what are clergy other than interpreters of Scripture and teachers of God’s Law? And let’s face it, there are a goodly number of us who do impose some pretty impossible standards on people…so, calling us Pharisees might not be too far from the truth.

While all of that is really inexcusable, and for all that I would like to pretend that I’m somehow different—the fact is that most clergy fall into the trap of thinking that we are the true shepherds. That’s not to say that we think we’re Jesus—but that somehow we’re the ones who take care of the sheep.

However, as the job description for being the Good Shepherd is the same as being the Messiah; I think that all of us would agree that we are far from measuring-up. And, if we were searching for some allegorical title for clergy; we might best apply the title of sheep dog, or even llamas (it’s true, llamas are apparently terrific herd animals. Look it up).

But, the fact of the matter is, when we get right down to it, clergy, just like everyone else are sheep. Sheep with a particular job, but sheep all the same.

So this means for all of the wonderful titles that we employ for our clergy: ‘pastor’, shepherds of the flock, blah-blah-blah; the reality is that we’re not (even allegorically) a different creature from the rest of God’s flock.

What I think happens, however, is that clergy buy into this idea a bit too much. Also like I said before, we get to thinking that we’re the shepherds. And not only do we sometimes think we’re above the other sheep, but we also begin to feel overly responsible for the sheep.

But not just the sheep in our own flock, but all sheep—even those rogue sheep that don’t seem to be part of any flock. Inevitably (mostly because we have no business pretending to be the Good Shepherd); we find ourselves way out of our depth.

And this leads to a lot of fear: fear of losing the institutional Church as we know it; fear of being wrong; and fear of losing credibility.

So, in response to all of these fears, the clergy, church leadership—even the congregation—begin to wonder how to be better shepherds—again, even though none of us is meant to be… This often leads to some pretty serious over-programming; over-compensating; and a host of other things that are designed to draw sheep, but not really care for them.

In the end, the sheep have a harder time discerning the Shepherd’s voice for all of the noise and distraction; and those sheep who don’t have a flock find that the flocks have lost their “flockiness.” Certainly the mark of the Shepherd is less obvious.

In other words, in our vain attempts at taking on the role of Jesus; the Church has found itself trying to be attractive—even seductive to our culture. The way we’ve done this is by trying to water down who we are, what we believe and what we’re about. We have worked hard chasing what we believe is relevant, but find ourselves following fads.

 The net result of this, more often than not, has been a Church that conforms more to the image of being Christian—and less to the image of Christ.

We’ve basically sold short our birthright…which is too bad, because even though we’ve seen some decline in the Church, for all denominations—I still believe we have a vital role in the world.  

St. Paul wrote in his letter to the Corinthians, “when we showed-up, we didn’t captivate you with eloquence or clever words.” He says we came to you with the testimony of Christ crucified and him resurrected. So Paul is saying that they didn’t come with a message that was ‘relevant’—they came with the Gospel that was essential. They came with words of hope so profound that it was elemental—a force of nature. And the message was a very simple one: we’re loved; everyone matters; and there is always hope—the proof of this, for Paul, for the Church in Corinth, and for all of us for all of these millennia is that God, in the person of Jesus Christ, loved us enough to give himself fully; and then open the way to resurrection and eternal life for everyone.

To me this is something that not only seems relevant, but could be absolutely essential to anyone who has some deeper sense of meaning for their lives. And for us, it only affirms our inability to fulfill the role of shepherd, and reinforces our identity as sheep of the true shepherd.

So, what I think we’re left with are some pretty profound questions—questions of identity, perhaps. What is our role in the world, and how do we make sure that the Good Shepherd is made known? How do we live our lives so that the Gospel is presented through our lives as well as our words?

 Well, it’s likely that the answer is probably simpler than we think: “Baa.”