“But you do not believe because you are not my sheep. My sheep listen to my voice; I know them and they follow me.”
May the words of my mouth and meditations of my heart be holy and pleasing in your sight, O Lord.
One of my favorite songs-Moment of Surrender-is a ballad about the moment when we are able to clearly see and understand what is happening, and has happened, in the world around us. The moment in which we surrender ourselves to the rhythm of our unconsciousness. To the rhythm that yearns to be released from our control. Today, U2’s Moment of Surrender will be our fifth reading, not because their theology is unusual but rather because it is a profound theology of redemption and grace. As they say, “It’s not if I believe in love, but if love believes in me.”
“It’s not if I believe in love, but if love believes in me.” These two verses of the song reveal the tensions I often face when it comes to God. To be honest today’s gospel readings is among the many that really frustrate me. Jesus had spent his life walking around telling parables about loving your enemies and taking the plank out of your own eye before removing the splinter out of others. Why would Christ say, “you are not my sheep?” It almost seems contradictory to his teachings. But the story of Easter is one of grace and love that surpasses our own understanding, so maybe if I remove the plank out of my own eye then the message may become clearer.
It was winter at the festival of the Dedication of Jerusalem. Jesus was walking in the temple and the Jews gathered around to interrogate him. “How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah; just say ‘I am the Messiah!’” Then Jesus replied, “well you idiots; I have told you. I have told you over and over again through my words and my actions. I have raised people from the dead and others have understood. But you do not. I healed the sick, I made the blind see. They are healed because I believe in them and they believe in me, but you not. You have eyes but refuse to see. You do not belong to my sheep. My sheep hear my voice. I know them and they follow me.”
The reality is that I am often just like the Jews. Sometimes the message of Christ does not make sense. In fact the question that the Jews asked of Jesus is not different than my own: How can we know for sure that the story of Jesus can be trusted? If only there was a way to know for sure then I could ignore the risk following him.
Christ responded to these questions by living side by side with man and demonstrating his grace and love through physical labor and by doing miracles. It is because Christ tended to the flock that the Samaritan woman, the blind, and the dead, heard his voice and responded to it. In our weakness we become most vulnerable to the message of Christ. Maybe the obstacles that we face, and those which also prohibited the Jews from being Christ’s sheep, are the cracks in which God’s grace can seep through. God reminds us that he will come to us, not we go to him.
Listen again: “It’s not if I believe in love, but if love believes in me.”
Did you hear it? Our experience with God goes beyond the relationship that we work for. In fact it is not about us and what we can do, but God’s willingness to meet us where we are at. His willingness to wait for us, and with us, until we are able to recognize his grace seeping through our unbelief. His willingness to wait until we surrender.
My uncle Pat, who passed away a year ago today, was a man of tremendous grace. Before I was born he wrote me a letter. He wrote about all the things that we would do together, all that he would teach me, and all that he loved. Pat said that we would go to Disneyland, he would make me into a Portland TrailBlazers fan, and he would teach me how to ride a motorcycle. But most distinctly, in this letter, he called me his slugster.
While visiting him and my grandma one summer in California, I asked him why he called me “slugster”. Truth be told, slugs are ugly, gross and slimy. He laughed and asked me if I knew what my name means. I said, yes, grace. He replied by saying that often times grace and love are found in things that are ugly and slimy. We learn to love others when are able to relate to them better. However, this can be dangerous. When we love we don’t take on just the good parts of others, but most importantly we have to take on the bad. If we love the slug we might have to take on some of its ugliness and sliminess, we could get leprosy if we love the lepers, we could stoned for hanging out with Jesus. But, Pat said, once we are willing to become ugly and slimy not only do we give grace to others, but receive it ourselves. So when I see bad things in the world, the nickname he gave me would remind me to love the ugly, even if it meant that I might become ugly myself.
Pat suffered a lot in his life, and at his death we all were reminded of the same truths that he taught me years ago. Sometimes there is a lot at stake in love. Loving the slug would mean that I might get slimy goo on me. Loving Pat might mean that we would have to feel pain. Loving those who were hurting might mean that we would have to hurt too. For Christ, loving the Jews meant that he would get stoned, but he was willing to take the risk. At Pat’s death, redemption and grace seeped through our cracks of bitterness and pain until our relationships were able to be rebuilt, and forgiveness and love was able to pour through us. In the same was does Christ’s redemption and grace find its way into our soul, but for some of us the challenge is greater. But, God is patient.
The Jews did not understand Christ’s message like I didn’t understand Pat’s. It was not until we experienced the death of someone we loved that we were truly able to understand his story, but we learned. Sometimes we get so caught up in what is safe that we overlook the signs around us. For the Jews, Christ was not the messiah dressed in white, seated on a horse. He was not the kung fu fighter they imagined him to be. In fact, Christ was the opposite. He humbly rode a donkey, lived with the poor, and was a pacifist. Although the Jews obviously knew of the works and miracles that Christ had done, that wasn’t enough for them. By accepting Christ they had a lot to lose, so I think it is understandable that the question of Christ’s Messiahship comes up over and over again; even though they had seen the miracles that he had done, they still did not know how understand the message Christ was giving them. When Jesus told the Jews that they were not his sheep, he said it because they did not recognize his voice and they didn’t understand his teaching.
Maybe suffering is necessary for redemption; it helps us get Christ’s message. There has to be some sort of standard for our transgressions. We deserve that. We must be given a chance to make up for our wrong doings. If we look at Judas, he killed himself after he realized what he had done. He took his life so that he could not betray Christ again. Perhaps it is about doing the best that we can under hard circumstances. Christ couldn’t show the Jews through his works that he was the messiah or tell them in a way that made them understand. However, if he had the power to put them to rights, then he should, because if he did not then it wouldn’t be grace. He had to tell them that they were not his sheep, take up the stones that they casted at them, and preach against their teachings. We have to be able to understand the crucifixion through its harsh reality before we can experience the resurrection.
“The good shepherd,” Jesus says, “lays down his life for the sheep…I [Jesus] have other sheep that are not of this sheep pen. I must bring them also. They too will listen to my voice.” Looking back at Easter message, we know that Christ laid down his life for the redemption and salvation of his sheep. As σοζω- the Greek word for salvation means-we are “rescued” or “saved” from slobbery mouths of the wolves. Maybe for some of us though, we might have to be nibbled on by our enemies before we understand the consequences of our blindness, and realize that Christ had been there with us all along.
Perhaps salvation comes in different forms. For those few sheep who do not wander astray, they are being guided to new fields. But for those who do wander astray or find themselves in the eyes of prey, Christ is with them. He calls out for them and if they do not respond or hear his voice, he keeps calling out. While Christ will not drag them in by the neck, he will keep calling, waiting for the right moment for his message to seep into the heart of the lost. The Jews in this passage are not his sheep because they are not responding to his voice, but that doesn’t mean that Christ has given up on them. He still did lay down his life for all sheep and he will rescue us in this life or the next.
It might not matter if surrender takes place here and now or if the message of Christ becomes clear to us today. Our consciousness is constantly questioning the complexities of the Christian message and we have become the Jews holding on to that which makes sense, holding on to that which we know. In our moment of surrender we will surrender to the rhythm of our soul, to the rhythm of our unconsciousness that yearns to be released from our control. In the moment we surrender, we will surrender to the truth that would be evident if we had the right eyes to see. But, until then U2 is right. We will go to every black hole and the alley of every dark star. But let us have hope in knowing that God will not deny us…For…
“It’s not if I believe in love, but if love believes in me.”
