Finding Pasture

Sermon for the Fourth Sunday of Easter, Year A

The Church of the Epiphany | Washington, DC

John 10:1-10

Jesus’ desire for each of us, as we hear in this gospel lesson, is that we find pasture.

I wonder what this calls to mind for you. What does “pasture” look like in your imagination? 

For a moment, I invite you to picture it... What colors or sounds or scents do you notice? How does it feel in your body to be in a place of pasture? Is the image you picture somewhere you have been before, or is pasture a place you’ve been waiting to visit for some time? 

One of my earliest memories of God—the time when I was first aware of God’s presence in the world and in my life—must have been when I was no more than six or seven years old.

In the memory, it’s a summer day and I’m gazing up at a blue sky, watching fluffy white clouds pass overhead and pointing out shapes. Two close friends are on either side of me as we lie on a grassy hillside: with vast open space all around us. For me this memory evokes feelings of connection and belonging, freedom and peace; it’s no wonder I associate it with God.

A pasture, like this memory or your image, is a place that nourishes life and revives the soul.

Throughout John’s Gospel, several “I am” statements are attributed to Jesus. And for a moment we might be reminded of the words Moses hears coming from the burning bush.

When hears the voice and when he asks for its name, God response by telling him “I am”— which is to say, “I am the very ground of all being: all that is and has life flows from me.”

Everything about Jesus’ life aims to reveal this same truth in practical ways; we might say it is what the “Ground of Being” looks like with flesh wrapped around it. So, when Jesus says “I am” the phrase gets particular: I am bread, I am water, I am light—all essentials needed for life.

And then, even more practically, as we hear this morning, “I am the gate.”

Gates provide a point of entry and serve as a means of passage. But by nature part of their function is to keep something in and to keep something else out. Gates set a boundary. 

Which sounds pretty exclusive—as though green pastures ought to be limited to a select few. Why build boundaries of belonging? Is God really a gatekeeper like some nightclub bouncer?

Sheep aren’t exactly known to be the most independent of animals. They scare easily and they are fairly defenseless. And as we know from our own lives, many come seeking to take advantage of fear, offering all kinds of false promises of safety: thieves and bandits, grifters and wolves in sheep's clothing. Not all shepherd’s paths or policies lead through the valley of the shadow of death. 

Sheep are vulnerable to many threats; they need protection. And it is always in God’s interest to protect the most vulnerable. To provide shelter and security. The kind of “gate” Jesus has in mind then is more of a portal: one that leads into that place of life intended for us. But, even still, a gate that will not allow evil to pass through and harm the sheep.

How exactly are we to tell the difference between the Good Shepherd and the grifter? In those who those whose ways lead to salvation, and those who claim to care for the flock by merely come “to steal and kill and destroy?” The first letter from Peter gives a helpful clue…

“When he was abused, he did not return abuse; when he suffered, he did not threaten… By his wounds you have been healed.” 

A Good Shepherd desires to lead their sheep to pasture—and will pursue after them even if they should go astray, and even when it might come at personal cost. Even if they lose their way, chasing after false promises, the shepherd never ceases to care for them. A grifter concerns themselves merely with their own benefit—be it power or financial gain or personal comforts. 

Now, it’s important to pause for a moment. Because this letter from Peter—and specifically this particular passage—have been used in justification of slavery. What we don’t read in this lesson about suffering is verse 18, which provides critical context: “Slaves, accept the authority of your masters with all deference, not only those who are kind and gentle but also those who are harsh.”

For hundreds of years, this passage was used to justify chattel slavery—and it continues to be used now as a justification for redemptive suffering in the form of abuse and domestic violence. So, to be clear, nowhere does Peter suggest the system of slavery is either moral or necessary, and nowhere does Peter suggest that suffering is necessary or what God desires for us.

And to suggest otherwise is theological malpractice. The only way for enslavers or abusers to reduce scripture to a divine justification for their actions is to ignore the entire context of God’s work. Because throughout scripture, God continually seeks to set free both spiritually and materially; to lead those in bondage through the valley and into the promise of green pastures where they might know life in body, mind, and spirit.

There is much we might say about the nuances of this passage. But, if nothing else, the kind of authority Peter has in mind looks nothing like that of the enslaver or the abuser or the grifter.

If it doesn’t lead to life it is not the way of Jesus, and it is not the voice of God. Because the desire of God—for you and me, for our friends and even our enemies—is that we find pasture.

This life-giving purpose is hardwired into us and surfaces in our dreams and memories and even our own longing. Whatever else we may wonder about or wrestle with in the words of scripture, Jesus final words in today’s gospel provide an interpretive lens to discern and understand.

May we know the Good Shepherd’s voice when it calls, “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”

Amen