"Watch What You Worship" (John 10:10-15)

Of Sheep and Voices

Sheep are notoriously dense and easily distracted creatures. They can be stubborn, deeply set in their ways. I don’t think Jesus uses the metaphor of “sheep” as an insult but as a gentle reminder of our nature, namely that we too are creatures easily distracted and deeply set in our ways.

By referring to himself as “the good shepherd,” Jesus implies that there are other characters in our world—bad shepherds, for example, and others who might not have our best interests at heart. He says as much. There is, for example, the “hired hand” who runs away when the wolf approaches. There is the thief, who cares not for the sheep’s well-being but only for his own.

It’s easy to hear about these characters and immediately externalize them into real-life enemies. But as Paul reminds us, our enemy is not flesh-and-blood but spiritual in nature. Some of the earliest Christians read this scripture and interpreted the thief and the hired hand not to be actual people in their world but rather to be their own selfish impulses toward money or status or security or power (e.g., Origen). The good news according to Jesus is that sheep, for all their thickness, can distinguish between the voices they hear (between his voice and others). This implies that we can be attentive to the voices or impulses within. We can discern which voices are selfish, goading us into quests for possessions, prestige, and power, and which are the voice of Christ, leading us toward connection with God and others. 

Jesus also says that what distinguishes “the good shepherd” from all the other characters is that the good shepherd comes “that [the sheep] may have life, and have it abundantly” (John 10:10), which provides us with a helpful criterion for sorting out voices. Namely, will this voice, which is to say this impulse, lead me (and others) toward the fullness of abundant life? This criterion of abundant life is not too different from the more colloquial, “How’s that working out for you?” that a friend might ask when we’ve made a short-sighted choice that seemed good but is actually turning out rather poorly.

BS

I have heard of an AA group in an in-patient treatment center that welcomes and initiates its new members in a unique ceremony. The initiate enters a room that is bare except for chairs that line the four walls and two chairs facing each other in the center of the room. The chairs along the walls are already filled. One person is sitting in the middle. The other chair in the middle is empty. 

The room is deathly silent as the initiate makes his way toward the empty chair. All heads are bowed; everyone is looking at the ground. When the initiate finally takes his seat in the middle, the person across from him raises his head and looks him evenly in the eye before asking, “What do you love more than anything else?”

Typically the initiate answers with a nervous, uncertain voice. “My wife,” he might say. Suddenly the room around him erupts, as everyone raises their head and shouts, “Bullshit!” Just as quickly, the room falls silent—a silence as serious as death. The host asks again, “What do you love more than anything else?” The initiate may try another variant of his previous answer. “My children?” Again the room erupts with cries of BS. This exchange may continue for another two or three iterations before finally the initiate realizes the truth. Finally, he is defeated—and at the same time, liberated. “What do you love more than anything else?” the host asks, and he answers: “Alcohol.”

This time there is no outburst. Instead everyone stands up silently, forming a line. One by one, they give the initiate a full embrace, as tears stream down the initiate’s eyes.

Everybody Worships

“All we like sheep have gone astray,” laments the prophet Isaiah in a well-known verse of scripture (Isa 53:6). For many of us, our wandering does not take the obvious shape of a single addiction. Instead it is diffused into many little wanderings or distractions. Either way, the principle holds: we are enticed by voices other than the good shepherd’s. 

I’ve heard it said that, on a practical level, there is no such thing as atheism. Which is really to say, “There is no such thing as not worshipping. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship.”  What we choose, makes all the difference. There is a story in the Old Testament about the people wandering in the wilderness. Although God has provided manna and water for them, they complain, desiring some of the foods they remember in Egypt. The story ends with a great plague, and many of the Israelites are buried in what become known as “the graves of craving.” A perfect title. Because almost everything in this world that we could worship, will eat us alive. Or as Jesus said, will “steal and kill and destroy” our very souls. Worship money and possessions, and you’ll never have enough. Worship beauty and appearance, and you’ll always feel ugly. Worship power, and you’ll always feel weak and afraid. The tragedy that results is what could be called a living death. The opposite of what the good shepherd has come to bring: life before death, a life stronger than death.

Lent—and Ash Wednesday in particular—is a time for honesty. A time for calling BS on ourselves (only and ever on ourselves). Not so that we retreat to the corner of the room and curl up in a ball of shame, but so that we might stand tall in the center of the room and receive the full embrace and care of the good shepherd. Our honesty today about our limits and our failings invites us to worship the One who will not eat us alive but will instead lay down his life. The One who loves us and will not let us down. The One whose way leads us into Life before we die.