30 Apr SUNDAY, APRIL 30, 2023
Something Lutherans wholeheartedly believe is that the Holy Spirit is active in our midst. It is she who gathers the church, calls people to worship and inspires them to relate. At the moment of Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit descends, “all who followed Jesus were together in one place.” How apropos that we have done the same today.
Did you hear this is today’s first reading? The baptized devoted themselves to learning and fellowship, the breaking of bread and prayer. Having been strengthened and supported, the community of believers shared what they have so others have enough. Day-by-day, they spent time together eating with glad and generous hearts (something you’ll get to do after worship today). They praised God and had goodwill toward all people. In the same measure and period of time, the Lord added more to their number.
The precursor event was Pentecost, when a tongue of fire rested on each person gathered and all were filled with the Holy Spirit. As I look upon you, I see there is nothing this body of believers lacks in order to devote itself to learning and fellowship, the breaking of bread and prayer.
Your participation during worship, toward charitable giving, service and outreach events testify to the wider community that our churches and families have received strength and support and wish to give back: to share what we have so others have enough. The Bible says, “glad and generous hearts offer praise toward God and goodwill toward all.”
Notice how the good shepherd cares for his sheep. To start with, he declares the truth adamantly with a phrase similar to, “Believe you me,” or “Mark my word.” Each word can be trusted and counted like gold.
He says, “Whoever enters by the normal route of entry gives no cause for alarm.” Let a colleague of mine help illustrate that idea. She recently bought a home described as a tiny cottage. After coming home to find lights on and an outside door open, she was unphased. Apparently, someone with a key let themselves in, mowed her grass, and left no note, most likely a neighbor. Eventually, she plans to change the locks, but since a person with no intention of harm entered through a normal passageway, she had no cause for alarm. They were not to be classified as a thief, but someone trying to care for her.
A good shepherd’s voice calls his sheep by name. His voice is recognized for who he is to them. They are connected through shared history; positive memories are evoked by the mere sound of a familiar voice. Many of us experience the tragedy of a loved one who can no longer recognize a voice or face from the past. It becomes challenging to remain connected when neither party can fulfill their prior role or act upon what trust had been established.
What’s really incredible is how the good shepherd goes ahead and leads his sheep by voice alone. Being prey, they are herd animals, following only each other for safety or else they are usually driven, pushed and prodded in or out of pens and places.
Once again, I must reference the little pig named Babe and liken him unto Jesus, the Good Shepherd. To win the sheepherding contest, Babe’s approach must be different from the sheepdogs. He must figure out how to communicate and win them over his own way so they’ll follow his lead and direction. With his voice rather than bark, he asks politely. The Good Shepherd leads without baring teeth or delivering painful nips.
People, on the other hand, sometimes trust strangers more than kin. Sitting in my car, I watched as a very elderly woman tried to lift her second leg over a front door stoop. A daughter who stood nearby said that she was just coming home from a birthday celebration, and that soon her mom and twin would be turning 95.
A small left hand gripped and leaned on the front door knob and her right one did the same to a cane. Moments passed. The small frame seemed unable to move or make progress. I needed to make progress, too. I was already running late, had stopped to ask directions and parked my car to wait for this lady’s mom to make it safely inside.
I could no longer watch. So I got out, climbed the steps that led to her porch and was on the front stoop. I could hear this lady’s mom saying, “Oh, God. Oh, God, Oh, God,” in a most dire way and feared she would soon collapse from exhaustion.
Noticing her weight was unevenly distributed, it would have been impossible for her to lift her right leg; and by this time she was just too tired. I gave instruction on how to adjust herself, then informed her I was going to lift her right leg while grabbing hold of her pant material. My body was against hers in case I needed to catch her should those plans fall through.
In classic fashion, she uttered words I’ve heard a million times, “Now, wait.” I paused and smiled. My grandmother and every other person, male or female that I’ve ever assisted out of bed, a car or chair has used the phrase, “Now wait.” It’s their way of saying they don’t wish to be rushed and want to maintain some control. It’s their way of admitting to being vulnerable and in need, at the same time stating that they are only so dependent upon your help. To me, it is a beautiful example of the way God made us.
After the elderly woman cleared the stoop, she again shifted her weight and improved her stance. Again she said, “Now, wait,” as her daughter stood by. My heart chuckled, though I was feeling self-conscious now for taking charge. The elderly woman said, “I want to see who helped me.” Bent over from age, she had to look up from beneath her small frame.
Her daughter at once explained, “My mom won’t let family touch her, but a perfect stranger can.” The daughter didn’t seem to mind and her mom seemed appreciative. I told the daughter that I understood the phenomena and had run into it many times doing home healthcare.
I further explained that I was a pastor now and couldn’t help but offer help. Besides, it was obviously not the first time a bystander felt compelled to intervene. All parties were treated with grace. I even got the directions I needed as requested, lol.
Under normal circumstances and in perfect health, we act independently. We are told not to trust strangers and to fear that they will not have our best interest in mind. As disciples, we do not always understand what we’re told or what’s happening. What Jesus makes plain is this: Admit to some vulnerability and dependency. In need, trust only him or those he sends.
Because, some strangers will hope to gain at your expense. But Jesus came so his sheep may have abundant life. So today’s questions begin with how will you respond to the shepherd’s voice when called to help another sheep in need? Which will you listen to, the voice that tells you to mind your own business and not get involved or the one that reminds you that you are able and/or qualified to help?
On that evening, I’m not sure the daughter or mother wanted or actually needed my help, but I was sure that I was qualified to offer it. Thinking back, after assessing the situation, I probably didn’t give them a choice, but understand this, Jesus always offers choices.
Perhaps you need Jesus’ help or know someone who does. If so, how will you respond? Will you follow the voice of the Good Shepherd and do his bidding? Are you willing to act upon your beliefs, acknowledge what you’ve received regarding strength and support, then share with others so everyone has enough? I’m not really asking, Jesus is. 
According to the author of 1 Peter, Christ modeled what it means to do right and suffer. He mentions that God approves of enduring pain for a just cause. We are called to follow not only his voice, but his steps, to sin not, not abuse or threaten when abused or threatened. To trust our lives to the one who judges justly. Free from sin through his death on the cross, our bodies have been healed. We are destined to live for righteousness, not going astray like sheep, but returning to the shepherd, the guardian of our souls.
For just a moment, sit in silence and listen for the shepherd’s voice. Hear him calling you by name. He’s ready to lead and has already gathered you into this place and brought you thus far in life. Let’s recite Psalm 23 together, once more, flipping our roles. You start.
The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not be in want.
The LORD makes me lie down in green pastures and leads me beside still waters.
You restore my soul, O LORD, and guide me along right pathways for your name’s sake.
Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil, and my cup is running over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.
If I say, “The LORD is my shepherd,” How would you respond? Answer: “I shall not want.” (Ps. 23:1) Do you believe it? Will you act accordingly by following not only his voice, but the way he wishes to lead. Let us pray.
Lord, we don’t especially like being compared to sheep but you’re right, we often act fearful and herd together out of weakness rather than your strength. Help us recognize and trust your voice. Increase our willingness to follow and live distinctly from the dominant society. To follow your lead and ask all things in your holy name. Amen.