Fourth Sunday of Easter: Shepherd of the Sheep

April 26, 2026
United Church of Santa Fe
Santa Fe, NM

JOHN 10.1-10

1 Ἀμὴν ἀμὴν λέγω ὑμῖν, ὁ μὴ εἰσερχόμενος διὰ τῆς θύρας εἰς τὴν αὐλὴν τῶν προβάτων ἀλλὰ ἀναβαίνων ἀλλαχόθεν ἐκεῖνος κλέπτης ἐστὶν καὶ λῃστής·2 ὁ δὲ εἰσερχόμενος διὰ τῆς θύρας ποιμήν ἐστιν τῶν προβάτων.3 τούτῳ ὁ θυρωρὸς ἀνοίγει, καὶ τὰ πρόβατα τῆς φωνῆς αὐτοῦ ἀκούει, καὶ τὰ ἴδια πρόβατα φωνεῖ κατ’ ὄνομα καὶ ἐξάγει αὐτά.4 ὅταν τὰ ἴδια πάντα ἐκβάλῃ, ἔμπροσθεν αὐτῶν πορεύεται, καὶ τὰ πρόβατα αὐτῷ ἀκολουθεῖ, ὅτι οἴδασιν τὴν φωνὴν αὐτοῦ·5 ἀλλοτρίῳ δὲ οὐ μὴ ἀκολουθήσουσιν ἀλλὰ φεύξονται ἀπ’ αὐτοῦ, ὅτι οὐκ οἴδασιν τῶν ἀλλοτρίων τὴν φωνήν.6 Ταύτην τὴν παροιμίαν εἶπεν αὐτοῖς ὁ Ἰησοῦς· ἐκεῖνοι δὲ οὐκ ἔγνωσαν τίνα ἦν ἃ ἐλάλει αὐτοῖς.7 Εἶπεν οὖν πάλιν ὁ Ἰησοῦς, Ἀμὴν ἀμὴν λέγω ὑμῖν ὅτι ἐγώ εἰμι ἡ θύρα τῶν προβάτων.8 πάντες ὅσοι ἦλθον [πρὸ ἐμοῦ] κλέπται εἰσὶν καὶ λῃσταί· ἀλλ’ οὐκ ἤκουσαν αὐτῶν τὰ πρόβατα.9 ἐγώ εἰμι ἡ θύρα· δι’ ἐμοῦ ἐάν τις εἰσέλθῃ σωθήσεται καὶ εἰσελεύσεται καὶ ἐξελεύσεται καὶ νομὴν εὑρήσει.10 ὁ κλέπτης οὐκ ἔρχεται εἰ μὴ ἵνα κλέψῃ καὶ θύσῃ καὶ ἀπολέσῃ· ἐγὼ ἦλθον ἵνα ζωὴν ἔχωσιν καὶ περισσὸν ἔχωσιν.

10 “Very truly, I tell you, anyone who does not enter the sheepfold by the gate but climbs in by another way is a thief and a bandit. 2 The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. 3 The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep hear his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. 4 When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice. 5 They will not follow a stranger, but they will run from him because they do not know the voice of strangers.” 6 Jesus used this figure of speech with them, but they did not understand what he was saying to them.

7 So again Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep. 8 All who came before me are thieves and bandits, but the sheep did not listen to them. 9 I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved and will come in and go out and find pasture. 10 The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.

+ In nomine Domini. Amen.

Let me read to you another version of this story from the Gospel of John; this from THE MESSAGE the translation of Holy Scripture by Eugene Peterson (of Blessed Memory):

JOHN 10 1-5 “Let me set this before you as plainly as I can. If a person climbs over or through the fence of a sheep pen instead of going through the gate, you know he’s up to no good—a sheep rustler! The shepherd walks right up to the gate. The gatekeeper opens the gate to him and the sheep recognize his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he gets them all out, he leads them and they follow because they are familiar with his voice. They won’t follow a stranger’s voice but will scatter because they aren’t used to the sound of it.”

6-10 Jesus told this simple story, but they had no idea what he was talking about. So he tried again. “I’ll be explicit, then. I am the Gate for the sheep. All those others are up to no good—sheep rustlers, every one of them. But the sheep didn’t listen to them. I am the Gate. Anyone who goes through me will be cared for—will freely go in and out, and find pasture. A thief is only there to steal and kill and destroy. I came so they can have real and eternal life, more and better life than they ever dreamed of.

11-13 “I am the Good Shepherd. The Good Shepherd puts the sheep before himself, sacrifices himself if necessary.

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There was only one sheep on our farm when I was growing up. We had lots of other creatures: serene cows, noisy ducks, obnoxious geese, an endless supply hundreds of questionable chickens — but only a singular sheep. I’m not sure exactly how or why we acquired the sheep. I think it had something to do with my Grandfather who heard me talking about sheep one day and in his lovingkindness he bought one.

Just before the sheep arrived, my parents had asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I told them, “I’m going to be Navajo.” One of the children’s books I was given was about the Navajo people; I read it over and over and over. On the front cover was a photo of a Hogan, a woman, and a flock of sheep. Certainly from that book came the idea in my very young brain that I could become Navajo.

“You can’t be Navajo,” my Father said, “You have to be born Navajo!”

I persisted, “I am going to be Navajo!”

So when the sheep appeared, I found a stout pole, wrapped a bandanna around my head and began to shepherd our one singular sheep around the barnyard and up the path to the pond and around behind the barn and so forth and so on.

It didn’t last very long. Rather soon the sheep disappeared for reasons unknown. And I gave up my brief tour as a shepherd of sheep, as successful as it had been in my estimation.

The story of me wanting to be Navajo persisted in my family for decades; the tale was brought out at family gatherings, at picnics and so on. Here’s our son, the University Student, you know when he was young he was planning to be Navajo. And then would come the tale of the sheep and me, the shepherd.

One day, a good number of years ago, I happened to be outside the school at Coyote Canyon in the western part of our State. My wife, Beverly, was leading a workshop on behalf of the University of New Mexico and while I waited for her I sat under a large cottonwood tree, whittling a piece of wood.

A goodly number of students came from the lunchroom heading back to their classes, and they stopped to see what I was doing. “What are you carving?”

“What does it look like?”

“It looks like a boat.”

“You’re right, it’s going to be a boat.”

“How big was it to begin with?”

I motioned overhead, “You see this tree here?”

They all laughed. One of them said, “You’re funny! You could be Navajo!”

That evening, I picked up the phone and dialed my Father, “Dad, guess what‽”

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There are shepherds and there are shepherds, but the only shepherds worth their salt are good shepherds. A good shepherd is: thoughtful, careful, considerate, loving and gentle — a good shepherd is also fierce and protective when need be. A shepherd is a good shepherd because the first thought of the shepherd is not for the self, but for the sheep, always for the sheep. There are no narcissistic shepherds. Any who would fit that category are simply liars and thieves and bandits — much like the liars and thieves and bandits referred to in the Jesus’ story before us this morning from the Gospel According to John.

What Jesus is saying is like a parable, but not — the word the writer uses in Greek is παροιμίαν which translates into “figure of speech” or maybe a “veiled saying.”

The setting, according to the Gospel Story Teller, is that there is conflict — conflict with the religious leaders of the community, conflict with the occupying government (the Romans) and their ilk, conflict with people who are unsure as to who this Jesus is, or what he wants, and why he does what he does and says what he says in the name of the Holy One.

[EXCURSUS: We always translate the word “gospel” as “good news,” but I think we could just as well translate it as “conflict” — because if you read the Gospels carefully, and with any historical and cultural understanding, you will see that there is always conflict brewing somewhere. There is conflict at the birth of Jesus, there is conflict as he grows up, there is conflict when he goes into the Temple in Jerusalem, there is conflict as he begins his peripatetic ministry walking through the land preaching and healing and challenging — and most certainly there is nothing but conflict surrounding the last days: the trail, crucifixion and yes, the story of the Resurrection. It is out of that conflict where the good news of hope, love, forgiveness, peace and all that arise.]

In fact, when you think of it, most of the time when we gather to worship as the Church, we do so coming here into this holy place, out of a world of conflict — and what takes place here is that we find and are given peace and love and hope [remember: those are the gifts from God that we inhale as it were each “time we gather.”

When we arrive here, no matter what brings us, no matter from whence we come, no matter the beauty or the angst of our lives, no matter what — we meet and encounter the Good Shepherd: here, now, in our worship, in story and bread and cup and community of love and hope and forgiveness.

Something happens to us, we are changed. We are different when we leave from when we entered. Sins are forgiven, hope is restored, anger may be washed away, relationships are healed — because they are healed to begin with in the encounter we have with the Good Shepherd and with one another.

That is how God works. We are changed. The Shepherd protects us from the Rustlers, the ones who want to lead us away, who want to put evil into our hearts and weapons into our hands.

Amid the noise of the world, amid all the voices that would have us hate and exclude and ignore — amid all the voices that would make us believe a wall is better than an open field — amid all the anger and wrath and pain — we hear the voice — the Shepherd’s Voice. And, the Voice of the Shepherd is the one we listen to and follow after — because it leads us into the very heart of God, and by that lead into the hearts of our neighbors, known to us and those we have yet to know.

When we gather we sing about all this in the presence of the Good Shepherd. The Choir did at the beginning: Psalm 23 arranged and translated by none other than Bobby McFerrin. I love those words, those notes, this motherly-loving glimpse of the Good Shepherd:

She makes me lie down in green meadows

Beside the still waters, She will lead

She restores my soul, She rights my wrongs

She leads me in a path of good things

And fills my heart with songs

Even though I walk, through a dark and dreary land

There is nothing that can shake me

She has said She won’t forsake me

I’m in her hand¹

And the Hymn: Such Perfect Love My Shepherd Shows — written by Henry Baker, sung to Dominus Regit Me (The Lord Watches Over Me) the tune composed by John Dykes. It is the bookends of this Sermon (thank you Talitha).

Such perfect love my Shepherd shows, whose goodness fails me never, Whose hand all things I need bestows and watches me forever

Deo Gratias (+)

The Rev. Benjamin Larzelere III
Retired

1https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cn2zKKhhF3I&list=RDcn2zKKhhF3I&start_radio=1