“Who Are You?”

Sermon delivered April 25^th, 2010 at Belleville Presbyterian Church. Scriptural basis: Psalm 23, John 10:22-30

 When I read the Gospel lesson for today, the 1969 hit movie “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid” came to mind. If you recall that classic film, Butch and Sundance are on the run from the law much of the time, in particular from a group of relentless pursuers who that can’t quite identify. The two bank robbers keep asking each other “who are those guys?” but they never nail down exactly who they are. They speculate that they might be a posse headed up by famous lawmen, or maybe a group of Pinkerton’s detectives, this thought being based primarily on the fact that one of the riders was wearing a straw boater. Eventually the pair end up in Bolivia and are engaged in a shoot-out with a large detachment of the Bolivian army in the films’ closing scenes, and we all went home with their question, “who are those guys?” never being answered. In the reading from John, I have an image of Jesus strolling along the porch of the temple being pursued by a large crowd during the feast of Dedication, which we know as the celebration of Hanukkah, who keep asking him “who are you?” and he never really gives them a straight answer, or at least not the answer they’re seeking. He says he’s already answered them, but they didn’t like what he said, that they didn’t believe him. His inquisitors want to be told “plainly” whether or not Jesus is the Messiah, the Anointed One. While he doesn’t use the exact word “shepherd” in his response, it’s pretty clear that he’s drawing on the imagery of sheep herding that harkens back to his identifying himself as the “good shepherd” earlier in John’s Gospel. Then he goes on to say that “The Father and I are one,” which is an astounding thing to the ears of his Jewish audience and will result in a charge of blasphemy and an attempt to stone Jesus to death in the next few verses. “Who are you?” That’s a really interesting question, and it seems to me that how we interpret Jesus’ response heavily influences how we relate to him.

 I’ve long been intrigued by the shepherd imagery as it relates to Jesus. Historically, shepherds were about as low on the social order of the day as you could get. They lived outside of town among their flocks, eating and sleeping with them and since they probably didn’t bathe all that often they most certainly smelled like them. They were hardly an educated lot, and given the strictly-enforced caste system in place didn’t have much of a chance to move up the ladder of polite society. Without actually being outcasts, they lived and were treated as such. Yet the announcement of Jesus’ birth was made to shepherds. The words of the beloved twenty-third psalm that we heard this morning are a source of comfort in troubled times where it says that “the Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.” And the economy of the ancient Middle East was highly dependent on these men and women. Sheep were a source of food and clothing, and the shepherds kept them fed, watered and safe and got them to where they needed to be when the time came for shearing, trade or slaughter. These underappreciated folk played a big role in keeping the wheels of commerce rolling, yet were counted among the lowest of the low. In the history of our own country’s westward expansion, wars (or at least conflicts approaching war-like intensity) were fought between cattlemen and sheep herders over water access and grazing rights on the plains, with the sheep herders being demonized as dirty low-lifes who were destroying the land. No, a shepherd isn’t exactly the image that jumps to mind when thinking about the Son of God. Until you stop and remember that King David was a shepherd before his promotion to leader of Israel. Until you consider that the shepherd is a powerful messianic image in the Hebrew Scriptures. Until you look at what the shepherds actually did. Yes, they tended the flocks night and day, keeping them fed and safe. They usually carried a sling to ward off wild animals as well as a rod and staff. The rod was about thirty inches long with a knob on the end, more like a billy club than a walking stick that could be used for close-in combat. The staff was what we think of as a shepherd’s crook, with a large hook on the end that could be used to rescue a lamb that had fallen into a hole or onto a ledge. They also carried a flute made of reeds to entertain themselves and to calm the flock, and knew all their sheep by name and the sheep knew his or her voice and would respond to it. And the shepherd saw to it that the flock was safely in the fold at the end of the day. Isn’t that what Jesus does for us, keep us safe and calm?

 Now that we’ve established that shepherd is a pretty darned good description of Jesus, is that the end of the discussion? What about the declaration that the Jews asking Jesus who he is aren’t a part of his flock? Didn’t Jesus come to redeem Israel, to redeem the Jews? The fact that John has Jesus at the temple during the festival of Dedication, a feast that recalled the reclamation of Jerusalem from the Seleucids (modern day Syrians) by the Maccabees would seem to fit with a theme of redemption. How then can the crowd gathered around him at the temple not be part of his flock? We’re dancing on the edge of a doctrine of election that has confounded theologians for centuries and probably is best dealt with by declaring that divine election is the answer and that those who are part of Jesus’ flock are the ones who choose to hear his voice. And then there’s the biggie: “The Father and I are one.”

 There it is. The gauntlet has been thrown down. Jesus has just told the crowd that he and God are one in the same. Well before the doctrine of the trinity was developed in the fourth century in an attempt to explain various Scriptural references to Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Jesus has seemingly claimed equivalence with God. You can understand how that might have been a tad unsettling to the orthodox Jewish establishment, who would not even say the name of God out loud. There’s only one little problem. Jesus isn’t claiming that he is God, rather that he and God are of one mind when it comes to works. A unity of deeds since Jesus is doing the works of the Father on earth as opposed to a unity of being. It’s a very subtle difference, and the clue can be found in the form of the adjective “one” in the Greek. The neuter form, not the masculine form is used, which changes the meaning from a personal oneness to a functional oneness. Again, in the fullness of time men and women far smarter than I pulled together all the bits and pieces of Scripture and came to the undeniable conclusion that Jesus and God and the Holy Spirit are one in the same but in this particular passage that isn’t the case. Jesus is only saying here that when it comes to getting the job done, he and the Father are on the same page.

 So, who is Jesus, in plain, unequivocal language? Black and white, just the facts, ma’am, who is Jesus? To borrow a line from Jimmy Buffett, the God’s honest truth is it’s not that simple. As much as we like one-word answers and simple descriptions, trying to distill an inherently complex concept like “who is Jesus” down to something easy is likely going to result in misleading the one seeking answers and demeaning the subject of the discussion.

 Unquestionably, Jesus is the Son of God, the Risen Lord, the unblemished Lamb of Heaven. He’s our Savior, the one who died for our sins. That’s the lesson of Easter. But he’s so much more than these things. All that he is, or perhaps more correctly, all that he can be for you is rooted in relationship.

 My deepest desire for each one of you is that you have a rich, intimate, personal relationship with Jesus Christ. In that context, as in any intimate relationship, Jesus is going to be many different things to you at different times and often many different things at once. Think about the other intimate relationships in your life, say with your spouse or significant other. On any given day, at any given time, your life partner is going to be your closest confidant, your advisor, your antagonist, your defender, your helper, your tear-wiper, your teacher and your disciplinarian. And maybe a dozen more. Underlying all of these roles is, or most certainly should be, love and respect. On any given day, at any given time, Jesus is going to be your best friend, your defender, your teacher, your corrector, the one who carries you over the rough patches on your path, the one who lets you go down the wrong road for a little way and then lets you come back home, the one who laughs with you and cries with you, the one who sits quietly with you and who holds your while you weep. Underlying all of these roles is without question unbridled love and respect. You see, Jesus can’t be put in a box with a label that says “savior” or “Son of Man.” Trying to make him fit a simple definition not only diminishes him, but worse limits what he can do for you.

 Jesus promises us eternal life. He promises that we will never be taken from his hand. He and the Father are one. No matter what the future holds, God’s hand is holding us and nothing can snatch us away. Who is Jesus for you? Is he your shepherd, the one who keeps you safe as you travel through life, the one who guides you and offers you rest? Is he the Messiah, the Son of God? He’s said as much in today’s Gospel lesson, but who is he for you? I hope and pray that he is your shepherd and guide and best friend and a thousand other things. I hope and pray that Jesus is your everything, because you’re everything to him. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.