I’d like to begin this morning with a short meditation exercise. It is not something I do very often, so I hope you’ll indulge me a little.
Find a comfortable posture.
Make sure your feet are firmly planted on the floor.
Close your eyes.
Become aware of your breath.
As you breathe in, feel your lungs expand.
As you breathe out, notice your chest easing down.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
Now, bring to your mind’s eye, if you can, Jesus.
Allow him to stand before you.
Gaze upon his appearance.
There’s no need to say anything.
Just sit in the presence of Jesus.
…
Now, allow Jesus to leave.
On to his next encounter.
Grateful for the time you spent together.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
Amen.
I wonder what Jesus looked like to you. Was he a carpenter, complete with rough hands, and sawdust in his beard? Was he on the lakeshore, cooking up a fish breakfast for his friends? Was he standing in a natural amphitheater, offering a word of hope to the crowd? If you pictured Jesus as a pink bear with hearts on his stomach, you are a child of the 80s and have conflated Jesus with love-a-lot bear from the Care Bears, and I think that’s probably ok. I think our primary image of Jesus says a lot about the kind of faith we have. Jesus as a carpenter infers a very incarnational faith, one focused on the humanity of Jesus and what he came to teach us about how life in the Kingdom is to be lived. Jesus the chef is the Jesus of compassion who cares deeply for his friends and shows us what it means to love our neighbors. Jesus the teacher is probably a favorite among Mainline Christians, he is the one who came to earth to bring about change and to teach us how to be reunited with God.
The image of Jesus that has spoken to me of late is the same Jesus I preached about back in 2018, which is the image right up above me, Jesus the Good Shepherd. Over the years and thanks to our lectionary cycle, it seems as though the image of God and/or Jesus as a loving shepherd seems to show up exactly when I need it. Just a little over nine years ago, our nation was being held on the edge of our collective seats in the aftermath of the terror of the Boston Marathon bombing. For four days, we eagerly awaited as law enforcement sought the suspects. We watched the video of that backpack casually being set down time and time again. We were all on edge. I remember opening the same lessons we have for this week and being so very grateful for the Good Shepherd to arrive on my computer screen. I needed Jesus to pick me up and carry me, for I knew I didn’t have the strength to find green pastures on my own.
My attention then, as now, was drawn especially to the 23rd Psalm. Some of us prayed this psalm together just a couple of days ago as we stood with our friend Carroll and mourned as he buried his son, Hal. Psalm 23 is closely associated with death, especially in the very familiar King James translation. Over the years, however, I’ve come to understand that it is actually a song of praise. Listen to it with fresh ears from a different translation, the Contemporary English Version.
1 You, Lord, are my shepherd.
I will never be in need.
2 You let me rest in fields
of green grass.
You lead me to streams
of peaceful water,
3 and you refresh my life.
You are true to your name,
and you lead me
along the right paths.
4 I may walk through valleys
as dark as death,
but I won’t be afraid.
You are with me,
and your shepherd’s rod
makes me feel safe.
5 You treat me to a feast,
while my enemies watch.
You honor me as your guest,
and you fill my cup
until it overflows.
6 Your kindness and love
will always be with me
each day of my life,
and I will live forever
in your house, Lord.
“You, Lord, are my shepherd. I will never be in need.” Our God is a God of abundance. God’s blessings are poured out upon us as both sunshine and rain. The gifts of God include the very breath of life, the miracle of birth, the joy of relationship, and the hope of the resurrection. God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is a shepherd, the Good Shepherd, who lays down their own life for all sheep.
“You let me rest in fields of green grass. You lead me to streams of peaceful water, and you refresh my life.” Here’s the crux of Jesus’ message in our Gospel lesson today. As followers of the Good Shepherd, we hear his voice and follow him to eternal life, or what our Catechism calls, “enjoyment of God.” Of course, we need not wait until the great by and by to enjoy eternal life. The Psalmist, Jesus, and two-thousand years of Christian tradition are clear that eternal life happens when we allow God to refresh, restore, and renew our lives today.
“You are true to your name, and you lead me along the right paths. I may walk through valleys as dark as death, but I won’t be afraid. You are with me, and your shepherd’s rod makes me feel safe.” There is, perhaps, no stronger a statement of faith in all of Scripture than this famous section of Psalm 23. There is no inherent promise that evil will not befall us. Accidents will happen. Bad people will do bad things. Illness knows no prejudice. Thanks to a complicated tax code, death is the only true certainty in life. However, amid all the challenges that life can bring, God is right there with us. Abiding. Comforting. Sympathizing. God is there. This is a helpful reminder today as the last two years have left us all somewhere in the dark valley. God is there. God is here.
“You treat me to a feast, while my enemies watch. You honor me as your guest, and you fill my cup until it overflows. Your kindness and love will always be with me each day of my life, and I will live forever in your house.” Psalm 23 ends with the Psalmist bringing us back to pondering the overwhelming abundance of God. A feast has been laid out before us, and the invitation is open to all. After more than a year without sharing the Eucharist, I know that I will never take the opportunity to join in God’s feast for granted. As we approach the altar and receive a foretaste of the heavenly banquet, it is helpful to offer thanks for the eternal promises of God’s goodness.
Psalm 23 is one of those amazing gifts that transcend time. Like the Lord’s Prayer or the Golden Rule, we know it by heart because it is forever etched in our souls. When times get tough, as they seem to so often, it is helpful to have things we can easily fall back on. So today, I’m thankful for Good Shepherd Sunday, for the comfortable image of Jesus tenderly carrying a lamb, for the promise of the heavenly banquet, and the assurance of eternal life starting right now. Surely, God’s goodness and mercy shall follow us all the days of our lives, and we will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever. Amen.