Good Sheep

 

A Sermon preached on Easter IV, 26 April 2026 at St. Augustine’s, Wiesbaden

Acts 2:42-47, 1 Peter 2:19-25, John 10:1-10

The Fourth Sunday of Easter is often referred to as Good Shepherd Sunday. It always includes Psalm 23 and a section from John 10, a passage that is full of metaphors about sheep, shepherds and this week even sheepfolds!

I almost ran into a flock of sheep a little over a week ago on our trip to Turkey. On the last day, we were visiting the ancient city of Miletus, the site of Paul’s farewell speech to the Christians of Asia Minor and amidst the ruins of temples and baths and theatres, on a Roman road a flock of rather dirty sheep came my way. They were quite literally following their shepherd just like the sheep in the parable.

In the little parable – or figure of speech as the Gospel writer calls it – Jesus contrasts the shepherd, the one the sheep know, trust and follow, with thieves and bandits or strangers. The shepherd image reminds us of the biblical shepherds who led Israel, especially Moses and David who were both genuine shepherds before their calling. In Psalm 23 and in other OT passages, God is often the shepherd. Here it is Jesus.

If he is the shepherd, who are the thieves and bandits? They could be the Jewish leadership, leading their people astray, or possibly those who encourage violence and foment rebellion against Rome. One group was encouraging too much compromise with the occupying power, at the risk of losing their true identity. The other group’s embrace of force and violence to achieve their aims will lead to the death and destruction that Jesus prophesies. The Jewish rebellion of 66 AD was a disaster and ended with the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple.

One figure is certainly a little mysterious, the gatekeeper who opens the way for the shepherd to gather his sheep and acts the guardian of the sheepfold, ensuring only the true shepherd enters. This figure has variously been interpreted as the Holy Spirit or the Old Testament prophets leading people to Christ, it could also be the leaders of the church, guarding and guiding the flock. Or, and that would fit well with what follows, Jesus is both the shepherd and the gatekeeper, protecting, guarding, guiding and nourishing his people.

For when Jesus explains his parable, because “they did not understand what he was saying to them” (John 10:6) he does not actually compare himself with the shepherd, instead he says, “I am the gate.” (10:7) So perhaps we should call today “Good Gate Sunday”? It doesn’t work as well, does it. And yet this is an important metaphor. Often the sheepfold was not a purpose-built enclosure, attached to a house with a proper gate, but a temporary enclosure in the fields and the gate was literally the shepherd, lying in the gap in the low stone walls, protecting the sheep from harm with his own life. And the gate is also the means by which the sheep not only enter the fold, to be saved, but also how they go out to find pasture, to have life. As such, “I am the gate” reminds us of that other metaphor, “I am the way, the truth and the life.” (John 14:6) Jesus shows us the way and accompanies us on that path. To have life abundantly, as he promises, is also a call to share in the divine life we are given.

The sheep come off pretty well in this passage. They hear the shepherd’s voice, they respond to his call, they know his voice, they do not follow the stranger. In fact, and I know Fleur for one would agree with me here, sheep’ bad reputation as stupid animals is not deserved. In Covid times we even developed a derogatory term for a group of people supposedly acting stupidly: “sheeple.” Though as this was used by those opposed to common sense, life-saving, anti-infection measures such as mask wearing and social distancing to describe those who adhered to the regulations and recommendations – one wonders which group was really the stupid one …

Anyway, as scientists from the University of Cambridge discovered and documented in a 2011 study, sheep are more intelligent than previously believed.  They have a high degree of intelligence within the animal kingdom. The researchers performed several in-depth studies with sheep and demonstrated that the average sheep can recognize and easily distinguish between at least fifty other faces—of their fellow sheep, humans, and other species—and that this memory stays with them over a period of several years. They also can discriminate colour and shape as separate dimensions and seem capable of a wide range of emotions. And one scientist even said that "They have an agreeable disposition!”[1]  

At our Bible Study this week, when we were talking about sheep, one participant also referenced the novel “Three Bags Full: A Sheep Detective Story,” a detective story by Leonie Swann featuring a flock of Irish sheep who solve the murder of their shepherd! Not stupid at all.

The idea that sheep are stupid probably comes from how they act whenever they become frightened. As herd animals, they will do very stupid things when fearful, though as one of the Cambridge scientists of the sheep study reminds us, “Any animal, including humans, once they are scared, don’t tend to show signs of intelligent behaviour.”  And as we know and are currently experiencing, those who want to manipulate us use fear a lot! Fear of loss of status, fear of change, fear of the other …. There is a reason why Jesus constantly tell us not to fear, not to be afraid. And in his letter to the Philippians Paul writes “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:6-7) And I’m sure you know the famous line from Franklin D. Roosevelt's first inaugural address: "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself."

Hearing Jesus’ voice, heeding his call and following his lead is a sure and certain antidote to fear. Jesus leads us out of fear and division into life and love. The thieves come only to steal and kill and destroy. Instead of taking from us for personal gain, the Good Shepherd gives his own life for us, just as we heard in the Epistle “He himself bore our sins in his body on the cross, so that, having died to sins, we might live for righteousness.” (1 Peter 2:24) In him we have nothing to fear, certainly not judgment and not even death.

The sheep in the parable know the voice of their shepherd and follow only him. How can we be as clever as the sheep and listen to and follow only the voice of the Good Shepherd, the one who calls us by name? It is something we can learn through study, prayer and worship, together, just like the first converts whose experience we heard about in the first reading, in Acts: “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.” (Acts 2:42) And it is something we can feel. If the voice you hear is not calling you to love God and all your neighbours, if it is not calling you to live an abundant, faith and hope filled life, if it is not calling you to follow his example, it’s not his voice. Jesus is the Good Shepherd, be good sheep and follow him!

Amen.

 

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[1] For example: https://www.cam.ac.uk/research/news/shear-brain-power-sheep-smarter-than-previously-believed

Word and Table

A Sermon preached on Easter III 19 April at St. Augustine’s, Wiesbaden
Written by Dorothee Dziewas and Chris Easthill

Acts 2:14a,36-41, 1 Peter 1:17-23, Luke 24:13-35

Full disclosure: I am not Dorothee Dziewas. Dorothee was supposed to be preaching today but Friday afternoon, just as I got back from our pilgrimage, she called (or better coughed) to tell me that she was not able to preach as she was sick in bed with no chance of recovery by Sunday! She had however already written her sermon and – as the second part of my full disclosure – I am using most of what she had already prepared.

You may have noticed that our services are divided into two sections: The Word of God and The Holy Communion. As a Church that holds up both its Catholic and Reformation heritage, both are important. The first part of the services focuses on Scripture and its interpretation in the sermon. As the lectionary will have it, two of today’s readings are about preaching.

The reading from Acts starts with the introductory verse to the first public sermon the apostle Peter held, on the day of Pentecost. Then it leaves out the actual sermon (some of which was in the readings last week, though) and jumps directly to the reaction of the people listening to Peter.

And then there is the gospel reading, of course. It tells the well-known story of those two disciples on their way to Emmaus, who are talking among themselves about the dreadful things that have been going on in Jerusalem. Until a stranger appears and starts to explain to them what happened, and why.

That’s what sermons are supposed to do – they explain, they discuss, they motivate, they teach. But let’s be honest. How many of us could still remember the key message of last week’s sermon? Or any point that was made? How often do we hear words that are well thought out, well spoken, and well presented – and yet still cannot remember them a few days later, let alone put them into practice in everyday life!

Often words don’t really reach us, they don’t stick. More often than not it’s “in one ear and out the other”, because we are so busy with our own things and thoughts that we cannot tune in to God’s word. It needs more than clever thoughts and learned theories to make sense of Scripture. To connect with the Divine. To feel the hope of the resurrection against all odds.

Apparently the two disciples in our gospel reading are no exception. They will have heard Jesus talk about his Passion many times. And now, Jesus himself was teaching them, explaining all about God’s plan of healing and love, and yet they did not understand, not really. It needed the shared meal, the breaking of the bread, the physical experience for them to realize who was walking with them to Emmaus.

So, are all the words useless? Can we skip the words? The readings, the sermon, the preaching, the learning? Can we just move on to communion, to action, to the physical experience of God’s love? I know, it’s a rhetorical question – the rubrics of Book of Common Prayer don’t allow it because Lectern, Pulpit and Table belong together.

But there is also a reason given in our gospel text why words are a necessary part of our God-experience. When the two disciples realize who has been speaking to them, they say: “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?”

Their hearts were moved by the talking, the explaining of scripture. They felt their hearts burn with passion, with faith. The words were the spark that could grow into a flame. (So thankfully preachers are not out of a job after all! And neither are the authors of books, the hymn writers, the Sunday school teachers and everybody else who uses words to convey God’s message!)

God did speak to the two disciples through words. But they only realized that when they recognized Jesus in the breaking of the bread. When they saw the familiar gesture that they had seen him use during their time with him – not least at the last supper!

Shared words – readings, preaching, creed, and prayer - provide the groundwork for a full experience of God’s love in the Eucharist. We are meant to learn more about God’s love, about our faith, about what it means to believe in the risen Christ. And we are meant to ask questions, even to vent our frustration and admit to our hopelessness. God can work with that.

Those two disciples have their questions answered in an unexpected way. Second-hand accounts of the resurrection (from those who saw the empty tomb) haven’t done the trick, so God finds a more immediate, very hands-on way of meeting his friends. Jesus walks with them, he eats with them! He is a true companion – which comes from the Latin words “cum pane”, “with bread”, someone you share bread with.

And then he is gone. Vanished. As suddenly as he appeared earlier. But something has changed. This time, Jesus not being there anymore does not send his disciples into despair. They may not see him with their eyes anymore, but their hearts are now opened. And they are propelled into action. They walk back the 12 or so miles to Jerusalem and tell the apostles what they have experienced.

If we look at the whole of chapter 24, which is the last chapter in Luke’s gospel, it is interesting to see that today’s story about the Emmaus disciples is wedged in the middle of what would have been a perfectly coherent and logical narrative. The first 12 verses tell us about the women finding the tomb empty and Jesus gone, and about the two shiny figures telling them that their master is risen. Peter runs to the tomb and back, amazed. That’s where verse 36 picks up the story: “While they were talking about this, Jesus himself stood among them and said to them, ‘Peace be with you.’”

It seems as if our reading (verses 13 to 35) was inserted into that narrative. Why? Maybe Luke wanted to send a message to later Christians that there will always be an opportunity to encounter the risen Christ just like the first Believers did. The Emmaus story shows us that Jesus meets people where they are. On the move. In transition. In despair and doubt. At the table. And it points out that we need to hear Scripture explained as well as to experience Christ in our hearts and in our lives. That a truly living faith is a matter of both head and heart.

This story right at the end of Luke’s gospel is also the perfect link to the second New Testament book written by Luke, namely the Acts of the Apostles – much of which takes place in the cities of Asia Minor that our group was able to visit last week! We heard from chapter 2 where Peter has just passionately spoken to the crowds about the Scriptures, about the risen Christ, and we get to read about their reaction to God’s word being preached.

Again, the words touch the hearts of those listening. “Now when they heard this, they were cut to the heart and said to Peter and to the other apostles, ‘Brothers, what should we do?’” These people just heard the words, the witness, the preaching, and they want to know more. They ask questions. What now? What can we do? Peter tells them to get baptized – to meet God in the water made holy. In the physical experience of God’s love.

This love has two aspects, just as our worship has: God wants us to learn and understand – with the ministry of the word. And God invites us to come and taste and feel how loved we are – in the Eucharist.

And then, equipped with both those experiences, changed by God’s love, we can go and tell others about it. Live a life that’s different from before. A life of hope and trust, of courage and faithfulness. And I’m not telling you anything new when I say that the world needs to see this hope and trust and courage and faithfulness right now, from each of us, wherever we are.

And with the Risen one as our companion, we can go out and “do the work God has given us to do to love and serve God as faithful witnesses of Christ, our Lord.”

Amen.