Sunday 7th May 2017 – Niall Hammond John 10:1-10 Jesus said: ‘I tell you most solemnly, anyone who does not enter the sheepfold through the gate, but gets in some other way is a thief and a brigand. The one who enters through the gate is the shepherd of the flock; the gatekeeper lets him in, the sheep hear his voice, one by one he calls his own sheep and leads them out. When he has brought out his flock, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow because they know his voice. They never follow a stranger but run away from him: they do not recognise the voice of strangers.’ Jesus told them this parable but they failed to understand what he meant by telling it to them. So Jesus spoke to them again: ‘I tell you most solemnly, I am the gate of the sheepfold. All others who have come are thieves and brigands; but the sheep took no notice of them. I am the gate. Anyone who enters through me will be safe: he will go freely in and out and be sure of finding pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I have come so that they may have life and have it to the full.’

Preaching – 7th May 2017 (John 10:1-10) Having recently put up a large new bookcase in our house I’ve spent an hour or so each morning last week applying various coats of primer and paint to my project in order to get it in a fit state to receive our miniature library. Being married to an English teacher and having a slight addiction to second hand bookshops has left us with a fairly substantial collection, ranging from the high-brow to the low-brow, with a few furrowed brows of concentration and confusion in between (just how many copies of ‘to kill a mockingbird’ does one house need?). In life I try not to be a hoarder, though Sarah will testify differently. However I hold no delusions when it comes to the printed word, I hoard books. I hoard books because I appreciate everything a good bibliophile should. The smell, the texture, the typefaces and layouts, the pristine new edition and the dog-eared, well-thumbed second-hand volume. Moreover I consider it a worthy pastime, that there is something noble in the acquisition of books, as opposed to other objects. In attempting to amass a repository of information that I know I will never fully absorb or digest I like to think that I’m grasping at something beyond me and pushing myself and my mind a little further. Even if the result requires the construction of a 12 foot wide bookcase and causes your removal man to ask ‘Niall, haven’t you ever heard of a Kindle?’

We all have things in our lives that we feel add genuine richness, mostly they are not physical objects but goals, values, virtues and relationships. In this week’s Gospel Jesus speaks of this notion; of living life to the full, or as it’s rendered in other translations, life in all its fullness, and life abundantly. The Gospel reading comes in the context of some suspicion towards Jesus, the Pharisees have just investigated the healing of a man born blind and want to know who Jesus is and if he is the real deal or some kind of trickster. It is a question we all must ask at some point or another; who is this man? What does he want from me? Is he genuine? And where is he leading us? Jesus, in his characteristic enigmatic way responds using imagery and metaphor. He’s like that annoying teacher we all had at school who answers a question with another question, though far from it being a politicians answer it is an invitation to us to think deeper on his response. The image of Jesus the shepherd, the gatekeeper to the sheepfold, is so well known as to almost slip into cliché. Though it is worth noting that while shepherding in this country generally involved driving the sheep from behind, often with the help of a dog, the shepherds of the Middle East lead their sheep from the front. While the former can be likened to trying to push a bicycle up a hill backwards, or trying to herd cats, or indeed students, the later has become a model for good leadership the world over; leading from the front, leading by example, being the one inspiration that motivates others to follow. And Jesus says that they know his voice and they follow. Each one called individually; known by name. With this, often cuddly and pastoral image, we’re set a deep challenge. It is not simply enough to proclaim Jesus as Lord; to bestow on him titles of worthiness. We must actually act on what he is saying. If we know his voice then the next step is to go after him. Some scholars of the church encourage us to look back over the life and history of the Christian faith and ask ourselves if Jesus has simply been worshiped, without being followed. And when they failed to understand this parable Jesus responds with some more imagery, this time no longer simply the gatekeeper but also the gate itself, through which his flock will pass into the sheepfold. It’s easy to interpret this in a simplistic form; that Jesus is the way to heaven, if you want the rewards of the Kingdom then you have to go through him. But the picture of the sheepfold seems a bit limited to encompass all the qualities of the Kingdom of God. Instead it strikes us as an enclosure, small and safe, crowded and a bit cramped, filled with the other sheep and their reassuring smell (sound familiar?). For shepherds and their sheep the fold is a place of security, a temporary holding pen, perhaps during the night or throughout the winter where the wild animals and adverse weather can’t get to us. But in order to live, to be nourished, to find fresh grass and clear waters, in order to thrive we must go out of the sheepfold. We must head out to the pasture. Wherein we may

encounter those we dislike, disagree with or those who despise us. It is out here, outside the sheepfold that we are called to love, to serve and share in the mercy we have been given. The voice of the shepherd calls us again and we must follow, not simply gaze on in awe. I always found the Easter reading from Matthew’s gospel a little of a disappointment; that the women who go to the tomb don’t actually see Jesus, only an angel telling us that he’s off to Galilee and will meet his disciples there. I struggled with it until I was reminded that Jesus leads us from the front; that he goes on ahead of us, that throughout our lives we are awaiting that encounter with the risen Lord in the next action we take, in the next place we visit and in the next person we see. Thinking back to his audience of Pharisees it’s fair to say that Jesus’ remarks are quite pointed “all others who have come are thieves and brigands”. Perhaps the leaders of the various sects knew that he was referring to them; that their adherence to a particular code, or attempts to prove their own piety through their detailed observances was not going to bring people closer to God or send them out to fresh pastures to grow and thrive. It is even truer for us today that we must be extra careful in our discernment between those who look to drive us forward for their own benefit and profit, and those who lead by example for the welfare of the whole flock. The brigands and thieves of today equally masquerade behind the respectability of office and commerce, promising us much through soundbites, adverts, slogans and occasionally miscalculated financial statements on the side of a big red bus. I wonder if the Good Shepherd who would lay down life for his sheep would count as ‘strong and stable leadership’. And Jesus hangs his reputation, in a way that no modern leader would honestly dare to do; on a rather outlandish promise, that whereas ‘the thief comes to steal, kill and destroy’, to remove from life the things that give it real richness and value, he has come so that we might have ‘life, and have it to the full’. By this outcome may he be judged. There is a lot of talk in Christian circles of the promise of everlasting life, life eternal, or life after death, and while this is a crucially important part of our theologies the language we use to talk about it always falls short because it refers to events outside of our experience. Ludwig Wittgenstein, arguably one of the greatest minds of the 20th century, was a little sceptical, not so much about the possibility of eternal life, but as to the point of it “Is a riddle solved by the fact that I survive forever? Is this eternal life not as enigmatic as our present one?” Jesus on the other hand offers us an alternative view, not only life forever but life to the fullest extent, life in the most real and most meaningful way, a complete understanding of what it is to not only be human but also live with each other and with God. A life with purpose and satisfaction of purpose.

Now one moment that life feels like it’s lacking some of that richness is, if you’ve ever worked in a school and are awaiting an inspection from ofsted. I found myself in such a position a year ago and was charged with making the school environment look a little more inspiring. We selected quotes to go up on the walls around the building and the needed one for the entrance hall, to sit next to a rather flamboyant statue of the risen Christ that our head had purchased earlier in the year with our dwindling school funds. John 10:10 seemed the obvious choice; What other idea could convey that our purpose in education was to help form our students into people who would know God’s presence, grow in faith and love with him, and experience the most meaningful life possible? Nothing to me spoke more completely and defiantly that our students and our community would not be contained by exam scores and judgements from a regulatory body. I know of a number of other schools and one theatre company who have adopted John 10:10 as their motto, and it calls to mind a quote from St Julie Billiart, founder of the Notre Dame family of schools. When asked what their purpose was in education she answered that they were preparing the students not just for life but also for death. That a Christian education should help a person (of any age) uncover their true potential, their vocation and their ultimate destination. It is for this purpose that our chapel community exists. So, going back to that bookcase. Whilst painting I listened to a number of repeats on BBC radio iplayer, including one of the food programme exploring a new campaign in sustainable farming led by a New York based chef Dan Barber, who advocates a noseto-tail approach for all the wasted and unloved plants that are grown to produce the food we take for granted, helping to provide fairer access to good nutrients for a growing population. His argument for taking part in this movement was that to cook and eat in the way he promotes was not only more economic and environmentally friendly, it was also delicious. Most campaigns and movements require hardship and sacrifice, whereas his relied on people’s desire to follow their stomachs, a rare example, he argued, of greed leading to goodness. Jesus gives us a similar glimpse of what he’s offering, while we often refer to being his follower as taking up our cross, and it is true that many have and still do suffer for their faith, we are reminded that the seed of true happiness, contentment, purpose and enlightened living are to be found in being his follower. It is surely a revolutionary way of living, but a revolution we should all desire to have a part in. In a world where our politics is often motivated by fear and our commerce by the insatiability of our appetites it is refreshing to be reminded of the relevance of this ancient philosophy. Through our encounters with Christ, whether in prayer, in scripture, in the breaking of bread or in each other we experience a little deeper what it means to have life to the full, to know that if the lord is our shepherd, there is truly nothing more that we shall want.