The Best Life
Text: John 10:1-10
Other texts: Acts 2:42-47
Fences keep people out. They keep people in. They protect. They imprison. An open door is an invitation. It is a breach. It brings freedom. It brings fear. But in all cases fences are engines of distinction. They separate one thing from another, creating two different things that once were one.
This day, the fourth Sunday of Easter, is usually called Good Shepherd Sunday, and the readings are always taken from the first thirty verses of the tenth chapter of John, divided into three parts over the three-year cycle of the lectionary. In the second part, which we will not hear until next year at this time, Jesus calls himself the good shepherd, thus this Sunday’s name. But not this year. This year he calls himself the gate.
The point of a gate is to control. Jesus really says “I am the door,” which is a comfortable and familiar metaphor for us modern humans, who live and travel in closed spaces, and who are accustomed to think of such openings as metaphors for new lives and opportunities.
But Jesus is clearly talking about fences, not walls. You can, after all, climb over fences, as Jesus points out, and sheep don’t live in rooms. You may sometimes think of Jesus as a doorway to something, but that is not what is happening here in John. Jesus here is controlling the boundaries of something, the distinction between one kind of thing and another. We will talk about what that might be in a minute.
This whole story about sheep and such is not just some general musings on the part of Jesus. He is talking to an audience of Pharisees, a conversation that started earlier in chapter nine. (The chapter divisions are not actually in the Bible text; they are editorial additions and are arbitrary.) This discourse is a long interpretation of a healing story—the healing of the man blind from birth that is the topic of chapter nine. The shepherd story tries to explain how it is that Jesus was able to—and more, was eager to—heal the blind man. To restore his life. To save him. As if Jesus were saying: I was able to and I wanted to heal this blind man because I am the gate and the shepherd.
One of the ways that Jesus tends to explain things is through parables. And that is true here also. This is a parable. It is not a proposal regarding doctrine or theology, and it is not a command or moral imperative. It is a parable that, as all parables do, tells us something about the kingdom of God. The many and sometimes conflicting images (is Jesus the shepherd or the gate or the gatekeeper or something else?), plus the prophetic images from Ezekiel regarding shepherd as leader, plus the lack of understanding by the listeners (“they did not understand what he was saying to them,” it says)—these all are indications of a mysterious and unexpected portrait of the new world that Jesus announces and brings.
A fence has many purposes. Since the Gospel writer John cares so much about who is in and who is out, since he cares so much to tell us about people who walk in the light being different (better!) from those who walk in the darkness, we might think he intends this story to illustrate exclusion, people fenced out because they do not see Jesus as John does. But in this case, John is interested in another reason for fences. Or three reasons.
First, the sheep in the sheepfold are safe. They are not easily stolen away by evil bandits. They are not fooled by false prophets and led astray by exploitative authorities. They are kept safe behind the gate.
Second, the sheep in the sheepfold are nourished. The gate opens and the shepherd leads them out to still waters and green pasture. They live bountiful lives.
And third and most important, the sheep in the sheepfold are known. The shepherd calls them individually, by name. The fence establishes an identity for the sheep. Those who are inside the fence, those who recognize the voice of the shepherd, are his.
Christians are those who follow Christ. Those who respond to what they hear from Christ. It is not that there exist some ideal criteria for Christians that we meet more or less well. It is that we look to Christ to lead us. The sheep that belong to the shepherd are the ones who know—who trust—his voice. And trust that he calls them to good pasture.
People—we—listen to lots of different voices as we seek to know what we should do, how we should live, how to be good, how to find the good life. For Christians, Christ is the one whom we have come to trust to show us the way, to lead us, to nourish us, to protect us, to sustain us.
The book of Acts, from which comes the first reading today, is the story of a people who are thrilled to discover in Jesus such a trustworthy leader. They are enthusiastic, spirit-filled. They find that what they hear about the life and teachings of Jesus is a voice that calls to them. It makes sense to them, and promises them a good way of being for themselves and the world. It answers their basic questions about who they are and what they should do. They respond to this discovery by joyfully conforming their lives to what they understand Jesus taught.
The brief description we heard today about those lives is a result, not a cause of that understanding. It is a story about the presence of God—through the Holy Spirit—in their lives.
The book of Acts is the chronicle of a resurrection community, a book about what it is like to live in light of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. The passage today lists some of the things the new followers of Jesus do: pray, study, worship, and break bread. As we do. But especially they do these things together in community, sharing what they have and in their joy providing for one another as needed.
John’s purpose in his Gospel is to make a distinction between his community—those inside the fence, and the others. He is not trying to demonstrate that his community is the best one—though elsewhere he clearly believes that—but that the people of that community, of which we are the spiritual descendants, the sheep who know the voice of Jesus, have the best life.
For Jesus came, as he says, in order that we may have life, and have it abundantly.
Thanks be to God.
