A Devotion for Easter 4: The Good Shepherd

How long does it take for you to call someone a true friend? To really say you know them? A study I read this week reports that it takes 100 hours (hopefully not all in a row) to create a true friendship. When I think about the people who I call close friends in my life, those who I would say that I know and am known by, the time we have spent together indeed totals 100 hours or more. After so many hours together, you learn things about one another that you simply cannot in a short amount of time: their likes/dislikes, what makes them laugh, their quirks and habits, their favorite foods and music, the funny nicknames their family calls them, and so on.

Here in the gospel lesson this week, Jesus calls himself the Good Shepherd, the shepherd who knows his own, and his own know him.

Throughout this Easter season, and again this week, the gospel Scriptures have stressed Jesus’ desire for us to know him, to follow after him, the One who knows us by name, knows us deeply and completely.

Jesus recognizes, of course, the importance of knowing the names of those he leads. But more than this, the Good Shepherd knows his flock so intimately, that at the mere sound of his voice, they are beckoned and come.

This shepherd has spent well above 100 hours with his flock. They know him and he them.

Thinking of Jesus as the Good Shepherd, and us as his flock may be a tricky metaphor for some. As Christ’s followers, are we to be reduced to dumb, mindless sheep? Is Jesus some sort of tyrannical master, hungry for control?

With Christ, this intimate friendship and knowing is always rooted in grace, not domination. Earlier in this same passage Jesus says that “He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.”

This Good Shepherd does not lead his flock as a play of control; rather, he is one who gives of his own power and life, that we may enter into the places where we can thrive: “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”.

As Henri Nouwen writes, "God is the good shepherd who goes looking for the lost sheep. God is the woman who lights a lamp, sweeps the house, and searches everywhere for her lost coin until she has found it. God is not the patriarch who stays home, doesn't move, and expects his children to come to him, apologize for their sinful behavior, beg for his forgiveness, and promise to do better. God is the father who watches and waits for his children, runs out to meet them, embraces them, pleads with them, and begs and urges them to come home. It might sound strange, but God wants to find us as much, if not more, than we want to find God."

The work that we do requires so much more than knowing names on pages and demographics and case numbers. The people we serve want to be known, by God and by others. Such is the desire of all people, but particularly those who have suffered great loss and grief.

As we turn our ears to hear the voice of the Good Shepherd, the one who knows us fully and completely, how are we helping our clients hear His voice as well? 

Where are the places of life that the Good Shepherd is beckoning you toward?

In Easter joy,

Chaplain Amy