Thursday, April 26, 2018

Walking Alongside


Psalm 23   
John 10:11-18     
The novelist Annie Proulx wrote a book called Accordion Crimes, in which the main character is an accordion. Really. The story follows the travels of the accordion over a hundred years and three continents. The people in the story come and go, and one of the characters, who has a very small role in the story, is a Basque shepherd in Montana, Javier. Javier is very briefly the owner of the accordion, and he cleans it, repairs it, and makes lovely heartfelt music with it for his sheep, until he dies of a snakebite. In Accordion Crimes, most of the humans die unfortunate deaths.
The shepherd lasts for only a few pages in the story, but he managed to make a strong impression on me – so much that, having read this book 20 years ago, I remembered him more than any other characters.
I have never known a shepherd, but I have heard that they tend to be unusual individuals. It probably takes a certain type of person to live such a solitary life, solely devoted to the sheep. Traditionally, the shepherd would have no family ties, no property of his own – essentially no life outside of tending the sheep. His sole purpose in life is to care for the sheep.
Annie Proulx portrays the Basque shepherd, Javier, as a man who loves the solitude of the pasture, the company of the sheep as opposed to the company of other humans. She makes it clear that the shepherd is anxious for other humans to leave so he can return to his comfort zone. It struck me reading this, how content he seemed to be, happy even, amongst the sheep. 
In just a few pages, we get that this man has become a bit of an oddball. For so long has he been living the life of a nomad, high in the mountains, isolated from society with only the sheep for company, that he is uneasy in the company of people. Perhaps it wasn’t always this way, but after so long it has become the case, that he is more at ease with the sheep than he is with other people. The shepherd is an outlier in the world.
So, thinking about the oddness of shepherds, I find myself wondering in what sense God is like the shepherd. In what sense is Jesus like the shepherd? In what sense should you and I, possibly, be like the shepherd?
Is it God’s desire for us to be oddballs?
Everyone knows, when we read the passages of scripture that speak of God as the good shepherd, that it is a metaphor. There are plenty of Bible passages that are hotly debated about whether they should be understood in a literal or a metaphorical sense, but not these. There is no one arguing that God is a literal shepherd, and we are literal sheep. I am sure I don’t need to convince you of this.
Nor do I need to convince you that this is a useful metaphor. We are in well-trod territory, and I don’t need to spend a lot of effort on the comparison. We need God’s care and guidance and protection – period. God cares for us, guides us, and protects us – period. And it is worthwhile today, as it is every day, to contemplate the many ways we experience God’s care, guidance, and protection in our lives. It is good to recall, as David does in the psalm, all the ways God has been a constant presence in our lives. How and when has God provided for your wants and needs? How and when has God led you beside still waters, given you rest and restoration? How and when has God led you in righteous paths and guarded you from evil?
And, as David says, surely this goodness and mercy shall be with me all throughout my life, thanks be to God.
And the image of the shepherd, as Jesus takes it up and develops it further, celebrates the intimacy between the shepherd and the sheep. I know my own and my own know me, says the good shepherd. They know one another, the sheep and the shepherd, the sound of their voices are familiar to one another, and the sheep trust the shepherd. What’s more, lest we, the sheep, ever feel like we are an elite and exclusive flock; that we are somehow superior to other sheep; Jesus adds these important words: I have other sheep, outside of this fold, and I must bring them too. 
Such assurances of God’s love are enormously comforting. It is good to remember how loved and cared for we are. But I can’t help but think that is not all there is to it. As great as this is, it is not all there is to it.
The times in our lives when we feel the need most strongly for a shepherd are the times when we feel the lowest. When we feel out of our depth, drowning, lost. When we are feeling the grief of loss, we need the comfort of the good shepherd. When we feel the pain of sickness, we need the comfort of the good shepherd. When we feel hopeless and without direction, we need the comfort of the good shepherd. Anyone does – even those who don’t know they need it; even those who don’t know the good shepherd.
Even those who don’t know these extraordinary words of scripture sometimes need the good shepherd. Even those who don’t have a relationship with the God we know sometimes need the good shepherd. But how do they find this good shepherd and receive these comforts?
In our Tuesday Bible study last week, we discussed the words of the Great Commission from Matthew 28: Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” Around the table, we talked about whether these words are still relevant to us, the church of today. Was Jesus actually talking to us when he said these words? Did he mean for us, you and me, to evangelize?
Before you get your hopes up, I should tell you I’m not going to let you off the hook. Because I think he was talking to us when he said these words. When you decide to follow Jesus, following his commands, including telling the good news, is part of the package. But I also think the more fruitful conversation is about how– not if– we should take these words to heart.
I think about the remark that is famously attributed to St Francis of Assisi: Preach the gospel at all times; when necessary, use words. I wonder what this particular image of God, the good shepherd, says to us about preaching the gospel – without words.
Do you remember the song Show Me from My Fair Lady? A young man is hopelessly in love with Eliza and when he has a moment with her he tries to woo her with words of love, and she says:
Words! Words! Words! I’m so sick of words! I get words all day through; first from him, now from you! Is that all you blighters can do? Don’t talk of stars burning above; if you’re in love, show me!
When it comes to love, words are not enough to convince. God knows, this is true.
So when it comes to that person who is all alone with her sadness, her grief, very much in need of a good shepherd, how do we tell her? Do we use words? or might we better show her?
When my daughter Willa was in preschool she had a friend named Emily. Emily suffered from a chronic illness that often caused her a lot of discomfort. Some days Emily came to school feeling miserable. One morning when I brought Willa in, there Emily sat at the table with her head in her hands and tears on her face. The teacher, Miss Dawn, greeted us then looked at Willa and said, your friend needs you. And without a single word, Willa put down her things and sat next to Emily at the table. 
They just sat together silently. All the other children were playing with toys, talking to each other, while Willa and Emily sat silently. I must have had a question on my face, because Miss Dawn explained to me, “It makes Emily feel better. Willa just has a way of being with her that gives her comfort.”
It is something we call a ministry of presence. Willa’s comfort with being beside Emily gave Emily the comfort she needed. The ministry of presence – it is something we are all qualified to do. 
When you read the 23rdpsalm, look at the ways it describes God’s presence. God doesn’t tell us God is our good shepherd who loves us; God shows us. and God shows us most of all in God’s gift to us of Jesus, who walked alongside us, laid down his life for us, and promises to be with us always. 
Perhaps today we might consider the ministry of presence for ourselves, the ministry of walking alongside those who very much need to know about the good shepherd and his extravagant love. Perhaps today we might consider practicing this ministry.
It doesn’t require that you take a course of study. It doesn’t require ordination. It only requires a willingness to sometimes, yes, be a bit of an oddball.
The world moves away from pain, but the shepherd walks alongside those who are in pain. The world strives to be faster than others, stronger than others, richer than others – but the shepherd walks alongside those others. The world runs and hides from fear and shame, but the shepherd walks alongside those who suffer fear or shame.
The world has little to offer those who need care, guidance, protection. It takes a shepherd – a good shepherd.
May you follow in his paths.
Photo: By 3268zauber - Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5074986

2 comments:

Cathy G. said...

Thanks Maggie. Very good lesson. Gives me a lot to think about.
Miss you. Love and Hugs.
Cathy

Maggie said...

Missing you too. Blessings.