Walking with the Good Shepherd

The Good Shepherd
April 13, 2008

I invite you this morning to walk a labyrinth with me. A labyrinth is an ancient symbol that relates to wholeness. It combines the imagery of the circle and the spiral into a meandering but purposeful path. The Labyrinth represents a journey to our own center and back again out into the world. Labyrinths have long been used as meditation and prayer tools. A labyrinth has only one path. The way in is the way out. There are no blind alleys. The path leads you on a circuitous path to the center and out again.

For you see, Psalm 23 presents us with a kind of labyrinth walk. The path with God is from a description of how the Lord provides us, his sheep with food and drink. Step One. Then we hear how God provides us with safety and security: Step Two. We travel with the Holy One to the center of the Psalm, to the center of our journey: trust in God. Such deep trust that we “fear no evil.” For God is with us—his rod and staff comfort us.

So walk with me: Scripture has many ways of describing God. We hear about God as Rock, as King, Judge, Ruler. Jesus is described as Bread of Life, Friend, Light of the World. Today we hear about God as shepherd. Now what do we know about shepherds? They lead their flocks out in the open. Up and down hills, through river valleys, always on the lookout for lions or wolves, the shepherd guides his flock. David, writing this Psalm describes the Lord as his shepherd. Great King David—does he take comfort in his armies for protection? No. His protection and his trust is in God.

Walk with me as we turn another corner in this labyrinth: Scene two turns to food and drink for animals. “He makes me lie down in green pastures.” Like in California in the Holy Land, pastures are green each year for a maximum of two and a half months in the middle of winter. The rest of the year the fields are brown. So this is a good shepherd who can find his flock good things to eat. Much as we gather each Sunday for Eucharist—which is another word for thanksgiving—for all we have received from God. Just as we pray the Lord’s Prayer where we ask for our daily bread. Just as we gather to break bread together. There are many ways that God feeds us.

What comes next in our walk? “He leads me beside still waters.” Now sheep are afraid to drink from a moving stream lest it hide deep water into which they could fall and drown. Still waters and green pastures are, for a sheep, the best of all worlds.

So for us too. How many people come to church as a respite, a rest from their hectic lives. A time and a space apart. A time to gather with other sheep who know the Lord and to rest, just basking in God’s goodness.

Let’s walk a little further on our labyrinth path: Once God has satisfied our hunger and thirst, we move to a place of safety and security: Literally, God brings us back, back to the right path. “He restores my soul. He leads me in right paths.” Why? Not because of anything we do but because of who the Good Shepherd is: “for his name’s sake.”

We probably all know times when we’ve been rescued. Not because we’re so upright and holy but purely because of God’s generosity. The late Andrew Roy was a missionary to China who opted to remain after the Communist takeover in 1950, he was placed under house arrest and his interrogators attacked the person of Jesus by noting that Jesus told of a shepherd who left “the flock” and went after the one who was lost.

The communists argued that such an act was utterly foolish and irresponsible. The collective mass was all that mattered. Roy defended Jesus by pointing out that when the good shepherd in the parable goes after the lost sheep he gives ultimate security to the rest of the flock. Each sheep thereby knows, If I get lost, he will come after me. On the other hand, if the good shepherd cares only for the herd and does not put himself out for the lost sheep, each sheep is left with the ultimate insecurity. They will think, “If I fall one step behind, he will leave me to die.” But God’s kingdom is not survival of the fittest but rather a promise that Jesus has come for all us lost sheep. So even at times we feel most lost, we can hold onto that image of the Good Shepherd and hold onto that trust.
Now we get to the center of the labyrinth and the middle of Psalm 23: “Even though I’m walking through the valley of death, I’m not afraid. There’s nothing I fear because you are with me.” This is the climax of the Psalm and the center of our lives as Christians. We don’t need to fear death because we have already died with Christ. With his conquering death, we too have conquered it. This is the hope and the promise and the reality of the Resurrection.

When we walk a labyrinth there are three movements: the movement inward. Here we’ve moved inward from concerns about our basic needs: our food and drink. To concerns about where we can feel safe and secure. In the center there is the movement upward, up we go to praise God. So we rest awhile in this confidence that Jesus has conquered death. We can rest awhile in the fact that the Lord walks with us on our individual journeys and on the journey that St. Hilary’s is taking here and now.

And once we’ve rested, then the journey continues outward. We are commissioned outward—as individuals and as community—just as the sheep would venture out from their sheepfold. The movement of the Psalm takes us there: “Your rod and your staff—they comfort me.”

Again echoing the themes of safety and comfort—the Good Shepherd’s rod—like a mace—wards off marauding thieves or wolves. We invoke God’s protection as we journey out into the world. And he promises, he will protect us.

The shepherd’s staff had a crook in it to pull a sheep away from danger and to guide it. We pray this Psalm and consider how God is leading St. Hilary’s as a community to experience the kind of life described in our passage from Acts. As we move out from the familiarity of what St. Hilary’s had been, we can be secure that Jesus will guide us.

And look at the final movement in the Psalm—the final place we come out of the labyrinth. Again we find the Lord spreading a table before us. Keep in mind that a shepherd didn’t have any permanent ‘table.’ He’d spread out his cloak. Even in the midst of whatever enemies we may have, God treats us like royal guests. He feeds us as we go about our work in the world. He is ready to provide St. Hilary’s with whatever this community needs as it goes about fulfilling its mission in the world.

Our cup is overflowing with God’s abundance. We have confidence in what Jesus said: that he came so that we would have life and have it abundantly. The Christ of John’s gospel comes so that everyone would have such a richness of life that it would overflow into the world.

We cannot stay at the center of the labyrinth anymore than this community can stay in one place. The Good Shepherd protects us and also leads us out to new pastures. He is the gate to both lead us to protection and also to open ourselves to new experiences of what it means to be church. Over the next weeks you will pray, work and discuss new ways of being church. May you always remember who it is who is leading you.

And may you be aware that goodness and mercy will follow you and that even now. Even in the midst of sorrow and uncertainty, even now, you are right now dwelling in the house of the Lord. And this dwelling, this kinship with your Good Shepherd is indeed, forever.