Seeing the Metaphor
A Sermon
on John 10:1-21
By Ann Zárate
On the Fourth
Sunday of Easter
April 22,
2018
“Life is like a box of
chocolates, you never know what you’re going to get.”
“Except, you do,” my
friend said. “It’s written on the box.”
I was at School House, a
quaint bar on Manor Road with great cocktails and cheese boards. It was my
first night out in Austin after becoming a mother six months ago, and I was
catching up with some playwright friends who were in town. A drunk lawyer sitting
next to us overheard that we were in theatre and shared with us his dream of
becoming an actor. (Insert eye roll emoticon.) In typical white dude fashion,
he invaded our table. Seriously, he left his fiancee at his picnic bench and
came to sit at ours. And ignoring all social cues, he began to demonstrate his
missed calling by reciting Forrest Gump quotes to us.
“Life is like a box of
chocolates, you never know what you’re going to get.”
“Except you do,” my
friend said, half revealing her annoyance and half trying to shut him up. “It’s
written on the box.”
Sometimes similes work
and sometimes they don’t.
My life has simplified
in some ways since I became a mother. My repertoire has expanded beyond
complicated scripts and nuanced performances into nursery rhymes and
exaggerated hand motions. Instead of critiquing the president and America’s
devolving political charade, I’m evaluating the consistency and color of poop
and wondering how much longer my body will produce milk.
There’s a metaphor in
there somewhere. And if I had enough sleep last night, I’d offer to find it for
you.
So the extent of my
metaphors right now is Ring Around the Rosy, a children’s game where everyone
ends up sprawled on the floor. That 18th century rhyme become a metaphor for
The Black Death in England with pockets of posies warding off the stench of the
plagues, and falling down being the quick death of the infected.
Many nursery rhymes in
fact, re-imagine gruesome history in more tangible symbols. And so Henry the
VIII & Cardinal Wolsey become Old Mother Hubbard and her dog. And Queen
Mary and the protestants she tortured became quite contrary in an English
garden.
But our text
for this season of Eastertide; the weeks after the resurrection of Christ is
from John, which means it’s time to put away mother goose and seek out the Good
Shepherd. In a gospel known for its symbols, allegory, and metaphor, we read to
discern what it means to live our own resurrection day after day based on the
teachings of Christ.
John 10 is a familiar
one to visitors and regulars of the biblical cannon. If you don’t recognize the
confession from this passage, perhaps you recognize the text the choir sang
this morning, “the Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.”
In addition to the
iconic Psalm 23, we remember that the Hebrew scriptures list Abel as the first
shepherd (who was murdered by his brother Cain, the farmer). All the
patriarchs (Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob) were shepherds too. Moses was a sheep
herder in Midian when he encountered the burning bush. And of course the
little boy who used a slingshot to defeat the giant was a shepherd for his
dad’s flocks. And it was that same David, supposedly the greatest leader of
God’s People, who was called the Shepherd King. In fact, other kings who were
considered wicked or unjust rulers were described by the prophets as bad
shepherds who could not care for their flock.
The Bible likes its
pastoral imagery. And Jesus was a product of his culture. But not just the
biblical one.
Greek philosophers
frequently compared governing people to the art of shepherding a flock.
Likewise, in the Greek Classics “shepherd” was a metaphor used to describe
leaders. The poet Virgil wrote that a herdsman would “lie there at ease under
the awning of a spreading beech and practice country songs on a light
shepherd’s pipe.” However, the idyllic peaceful life of a shepherd was not
universally seen as such. Many thought of herdsmen as suspicious characters -
rough, unscrupulous wanderers.
Either way, in John,
Jesus uses familiar language to create a picture for his listeners. I am the
gate, he says. I am the shepherd. I’m not the thief or robber or hired hand or
gatekeeper. I’m the Good shepherd.
This is a rather
striking statement since we already know that “shepherd” in both Jewish and
Greek culture was a metaphor for rulers and kings. I am the good king Jesus
essentially says; its a pretty political statement for a man who had a run in
with religious leaders in the previous chapter.
His listeners were not
amused. His metaphors made no sense to them.
For us 2000 years later,
the words and symbols may be just as difficult to understand. It’s important to
remember though that symbols are a way in which the writer brings seemingly
“discordant elements into agreement with each other.” The root meaning of the
word “symbol” is ‘to put together’ and in John’s Gospel the symbols help us
understand how seemingly contradictory ideas can be brought together. Why
would he use a metaphor associating himself with the ruling party? If he’s
performing miracles, why do the religious leaders keep trying to stop him?
To begin to decipher the
symbolism the writer of this Gospel uses, we also have to read the previous
chapter. In John 9, Jesus encounters a beggar man born blind and heals him.
You’ve seen the youtube video of the man putting on the Star Trek
Geordi-looking glasses and being able to see his family? That’s what happens
here except with mud and spit and water. Jesus gives this man sight for the
first time in his entire life. Amazing.
Except it’s the sabbath,
so there are rules about what a Jew is allowed to do or not do that day, and
Jesus broke about three of them by performing this miracle. So the Pharisees
lose their marbles. Confusion ensues because one of two things is taking place:
either a righteous man doing miracles is breaking the sabbath or God’s miracles
are being performed by a lawbreaker. It was a conundrum either way.
So the pharisee’s
brilliant solution was to negate the miracle: “the man was never blind!” they
asserted. Except the testimony of the now seeing man and even his parents
proved otherwise. He had indeed been blind since birth. And to make matters
worse having been healed by Jesus, the beggar man tells the Pharisees, “you
guys, he healed me, he has to be a man from God - a prophet or messiah!”
And so with the
now-seeing man’s confession, the Pharisees kick him out of the synagogue… the
place of worship and community and belonging for all Jews. Remember when the
Pharisees confronted his parents? They were terrified of losing access to the
synagogue, the center of life. “He’s a grown man, ask him!” They
say of their son. And their fears are warranted because with the beggar’s
experience unadulterated and exposed, he is kicked out.
However, when Jesus
hears that the religious leaders have driven the beggar out of the synagogue
for his testimony, Jesus searches for the man. Jesus find him, and the formerly
blind beggar is told by Jesus that he’s seen… literally… the Son of God. And
the man looks Jesus in the eye and confesses, “I believe.”
Outside of the
synagogue, on the dusty streets of the beautiful city, the blind man sees.
Do you see… why John 9
and 10 go hand in hand?
The beggar recognizes
Jesus as God outside the religious center. It isn’t just that Jesus is the
shepherd of the sheep in the safety of the fold. Remember he’s also the gate.
Because the beggar worshipped God only after leaving the
religious center, a beggar on the outside just became an insider.
Careful though, if
you’re ready to take down the religious leaders then or today for their
hypocrisy; revisit the text. The issue is not whether you’re a Pharisee or a
beggar, an insider or an outsider, the question at stake is whether you listen
to the voice of the shepherd. And according to Jesus the fold has sheep, but
also robbers and thieves and hired hands and gatekeepers. I might need to
repeat that. According to Jesus the fold has sheep, but also robbers and
thieves and hired hands and gatekeepers. Perhaps Forrest’s metaphor should have
said “Life is like a fold of sheep. You never know what you’re going to get.
Because Jesus doesn’t
stop with sheep and bandits and hired hands and doormen. “I have other sheep,
too” he says. “Sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also,
and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one
shepherd.”
Oh man, do not tell the
conservatives about this verse!
Interpretation of this
verse in the context of issues addressed in John may include Jews who believed
in Jesus, it may mean Samaritans who practiced (what Jews believed to be a
corrupted) version of Judaism. It may mean Greeks.
But again, it’s a
metaphor and not one that Jesus went on to explain.
“I have other sheep that
do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also.”
I think of the previous
chapter: of the blind beggar whose belief in Jesus took him socially and
spiritually from the outside to the inside.
And I think of the
Hebrew Scriptures. The texts Jesus read.
Do you know who the
first person was to give God a name? It was Hagar. Teenager and almost-mother
of Abraham’s first born son. Had there been a #metoo movement of the Bible, she
would have been the antecedent. Hagar was raped by Abraham and beaten by Sarah,
so she ran away from Abraham’s camp. Alone and pregnant in the desert, away
from the safety of the tents, she encounters God. Sound familiar? To this slave
girl who had been manipulated and used by God’s chosen ones to ensure God’s
promises, God arrived. And in response, Hagar named God, El Roi. And el roi
means… “the God who sees.”
Who else does God see
that we don’t?
I have other sheep who
do not belong to this fold. I am the good shepherd.
And “I am the gate.
Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find
pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they
may have life, and have it abundantly.”
The fold may seem safe
with its walls and gatekeeper, but it isn’t the fold that allows us to have
abundant life. It’s the gate. Outside the walls is the pasture. And we get to
come and go. It’s right there in the text. Because Jesus is the Gate, we get to
come and live abundantly in the world.
The beggar’s belief
didn’t come until he encountered Christ outside of the synagogue. What
redemption can happen in our own beautiful city outside the walls of this
church? Because God is out there, too.
As Walker sang this
morning, ”And they were beautiful, everyone’s beautiful… let them all find
their redemption down deep in your eyes.”
Just out of curiosity,
what if we let go of the presumption that we know who God’s sheep are? As Griff
said last week, “Imagine how many of the troubles in our world- the Me Too
Movement, Black Lives Matter, sex trafficking, bullying- imagine how many end
if we learn to honor our bodies and the bodies of others.” How does viewing
others with humility, knowing that God can love whomever God wants, change the
way you view our city or change the way you treat others?
And how does it change
how you view yourself?
Are you the one who was
kicked out of the traditional religious institution? In the context of my
sermon and John 9, this may seem ironic, but I want you to know you’re welcome
here in this Baptist church. You are loved.
As I’ve already
mentioned, my life is consumed by nursery rhymes and lullabies. After reading
the text Griff gave me for worship today, you know I had “Mary Had a Little
Lamb” stuck in my head for days. But as I struggled with John 9 and 10, with
these symbols and it’s metaphors, a different song took its place. In the song
“Lullaby” by the Dixie Chicks, they sing the question, “How long to you want to
be loved?” and I think John 9 and 10 ask the same question of us.
“How long do you want to
be loved? Is forever enough?”
To my son Shaffer
Benedict on the day of his dedication to God, I hope he hears from his mother
that he’s free to come and go. I want him never to assume that while this
church is safe, we are not God’s only people. And most of all I want him to
know that he is worthy. That he is sought after. And no matter what people or
institutions may tell him later in life, that he is loved.
And congregation, I
offer the same prayer for you.
As you wander through
this troubled world
In search of all things
beautiful
You can close your eyes
and you’re miles away
You’ll hear my voice
like a serenade
(Add Sarah &
Elizabeth)
How long do you want to
be loved? (How long do you wanna be loved, do you wanna be loved)
Is forever enough? Is
forever enough
How long do you want to
be loved? (How long do you wanna be loved, do you wanna be loved, do you wanna
be loved)
Is forever enough? Cause
I’m never never giving you -
How long do you want to
be loved? (How long do you wanna be loved, do you wanna be loved)
Is forever enough? Is
forever enough?
How long do you want to
be loved? (How long do you wanna be loved, do you wanna be loved, do you wanna
be loved)
Is forever enough?
Cause I’m never never
giving you up
Is forever enough? Cause
I’m never never giving you up
*artwork: The Good Shepherd, painting by Deborah Nell, deborahnellart.net
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