Good Shepherds

Dear Friends,

This coming Sunday is the day during Eastertide which has traditionally been called “Good Shepherd Sunday.”  In our lectionary readings, we are given three images of shepherding, from three distinct perspectives: the one being shepherded, the one doing the shepherding, and a community that shepherds as well.

Psalm 23, which begins “The Lord is my Shepherd,” recounts the experience of the psalmist who is cared for by the spirit of God. Being led to still waters, he is comforted as he walks through the valley of the shadow of death. The shepherded one is well, as he stays in God’s goodness and mercy.

In John 10, Jesus describes what it is like to be the one doing the shepherding: calling forth his sheep with his voice and giving life abundantly. The shepherd is generous, so much so, as we remember in the Easter season, he gives his entire life. 

And then we are given a short reading from Acts 2, which describes the characteristics of the earliest Christian communities who shared all things in common. They would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. They spent time together in the temple, broke bread and ate their food with “glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people.” 

It is interesting to consider that one of the outcomes of the resurrection of Jesus is actually a portrait of care: a story of a community that shepherds. This communal shepherding involves economic generosity, a culture of hospitality, the gathering around worship, and rejoicing in togetherness.

We so often think of pastoral shepherding as a one-on-one relationship. The lone shepherd takes care of the one lost sheep. There is nothing wrong with this image: on the contrary, some of our most significant experiences are surely spent with people who are spiritual caregivers, mentors. or pastoral figureheads in our individual lives.

But the Acts 2 image opens a new possibility for this pastoral gift. The community—in its functions, culture, practices, and environment—is, in its core fabric, a shepherd. And this has me thinking about our own community at St. John’s with its longstanding commitment to pastoral care, not only through the phone calls, emails, notes, meals, visits, and rides offered week after week by our Pastoral Care Team, but through the many ways we all care for each other.

Among the most cherished gifts of my ministry is the feedback I have received from those who have come to us during my years at St. John’s. And whatever it was that draws people to us initially—whether it be curiosity, spiritual hunger, an interest in our history, the desire for healing, or just a general need for rootedness and connection—there is a common theme in their reasons for staying with us. As one newcomer put it, “it wasn’t any one person that helped me, but I felt more myself and more accepted than I had ever been before, just by being here, at the table, with all of you.” Our way of caring for one another as we are and as they are organically drew her out, helped her grow, and set her on a good path personally and spiritually. The community had been her “good shepherd.”

With gratitude for the shepherds within and for us all,

Amelie+