Being Sheepish in John 10

Sermon 392 St. Martin’s 147 (Riverway) 5/11/25

At that time the festival of the Dedication took place in Jerusalem. It was winter, and Jesus was walking in the temple, in the portico of Solomon. So the Jews gathered around him and said to him, "How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly." Jesus answered, "I have told you, and you do not believe. The works that I do in my Father's name testify to me; but you do not believe, because you do not belong to my sheep. My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand. What my Father has given me is greater than all else, and no one can snatch it out of the Father's hand. The Father and I are one."

John 10:22-30

Rediscovery of Christianity I have been fascinated over the past few weeks by just how much coverage the death of Pope Francis and the process of electing his successor have gotten.

In some ways, it’s not surprising; this is a big deal after all, but for a culture that is slowly growing evermore secular (29% of Americans now say they are not religiously affiliated[i]), it’s a little surprising how much focus there has been on the church from the national news and all-over social media.

(I think Instagram thinks I’m a Catholic, so it just may be mine. You follow three church vestment companies, and it completely ruins the algorithm.)

But we’ve seen other recent examples of this phenomenon. Something similar happened after Queen Elizabeth died. Royalty will always capture a part of our cultural imagination, but the church is intimately linked with the British monarch's role.

There’s a lot of ritual and ceremony that take place when one monarch dies, and another takes the throne, and that fascinates modern people who lack these ancient traditions in their daily life. When it comes to queens and popes, it’s like we’ve stepped back into a world that is much older than the one we now live in, and it’s governed by ancient rules and customs.

England, which is much more secular than we are, seemed to unconsciously go back to its religious roots in the days following the Queen’s death. People filing past her casket appeared not to know what to do with themselves.

Once there, they felt like they needed to do something to mark the solemnity of the moment. Some bowed or curtsied in front of her casket. Some awkwardly made the sign of the cross (as if it had been years since doing it), or they brought candles they hurriedly bought at the corner store. Symbols and actions began to matter in a way they usually don’t because the culture is devoid of them.

I remember leading up to the coronation of King Charles, many news agencies tried to explain the anointing that happens during the service. There are a plethora of articles and YouTube videos explaining its history and significance.

The anointing is a very holy moment between the new king and the Archbishop of Canterbury as the king takes off all the fineries of his office and is consecrated with holy oil. And all of it happens behind “the veil.”

As Shakespeare wrote, “Not all the water in the rough rude sea/Can wash the balm off from an anointed king.”[ii] It’s this anointing that truly sets the monarch apart as king, yet we don’t get to see it. It adds to the drama of the service.

 Similarly, one of the main reasons the movie Conclave has been so popular (other than its perfect timing) is that it tries to dramatically show the inner workings of something that is behind closed doors.

In the movie, you and I get a glimpse at something that we are not allowed to see in real life. And even so, we have to wonder, “Is that how it really is? What are we missing?” We will never know. The mystery remains. 

A Theory I’ve got a theory as to why people might be having a renewed interest in old, institutional, “churchy” things: I think people long for transcendent and ancient (even mysterious) moments in life, even if they’ve long claimed that they’ve shed the veil of religious superstition.

Our world has been drained of so much of its supernatural and mysterious elements that maybe we’re starting to realize that we threw the baby out with the bathwater. Explaining away every mystery makes life more banal than it was ever meant to be.

A podcast called The Surprising Rebirth of Belief in God has been following some of these fascinating cultural trends. There is a longing for answers to big questions, and more and more people are open to hearing what the Christian faith has to say.

Rather than immediate skepticism or outright derision, people are open once more to hearing our explanation of how the world works. What used to be laughable is being taken seriously yet again.

Many have realized that our obsession with a “rugged individualism” may have gotten us what we wanted, but what we wanted is not what we needed. In fact, that way of thinking has left us lonely and living in a world where the only things we can truly count on are death and taxes. Surely there is more to life than that.

People are longing for renewal, and they are returning to ancient traditions and stories that might explain their place in this world. As always, people are looking for answers, and that hasn’t really changed over the past 2,000 years.

John 10 In our reading from John 10, a crowd has gathered along the Temple complex's colonnade (what John calls Solomon’s portico) during the festival of Hannukah. They are walking around with Jesus, who is trying to stay warm as he walks through the portico, getting away from the winter wind.

In the crowd were religious pilgrims from Galilee who had seen firsthand the miracles Jesus had done, along with people from around Judea who finally had the chance to lay eyes on this revered teacher from Nazareth.

 Collectively, this crowd had grown tired of Jesus’ insinuations and parables. They wanted answers to their most pressing questions. “Are you the Messiah or not?” they cried out. “The suspense is killing us. Tell us plainly!”

I think we have all prayed something similar to God at one point or another in our life. “If you really are there God, stop hiding from me and show yourself. If you really can heal me or my loved one, then stop keeping us in suspense! Do it already!”

These people were fact gatherers, problem solvers. If they could get a straight answer, then their work could start. They could stop sitting around like a bunch of passive students and instead kick off the revolution.

You can understand why they were a bit restless. Hanukkah was a festival that celebrated the rededication of the Temple back in 165 BC after it had been used as a pagan temple for a time. The word Hanukkah means “renewal,” and they hoped the promised messiah would bring about national renewal.

But Jesus knew his audience. He knew even if he plainly said yes, they would try to fit their preconceived notions of what a messiah should be onto him.

And so, what they perceived as vague insinuations was actually Jesus’ way of talking as someone who could see behind the veil, behind the door of the conclave. He uses images and metaphors to talk about a reality that the impatient crowd could not begin to fathom.

If they were going to begin to understand anything that Jesus said, they were going to have to have faith.  

This reminds me of someone who once said, “Jesus always gives just enough of himself to make faith possible, and yet he also always hides enough of himself to make faith necessary.”[iii]

When the crowd demanded that he show them all his cards, he said “Not so fast.” Faith has always been the key to understanding who Jesus is. Throughout Jesus’ ministry, he spoke openly to the crowds that gathered around him—he didn’t hide behind a veil—but to realize the deep undercurrent of his message, Jesus said you had to step out of the seat of the skeptic and take a leap of faith. Or as he said in our passage today, you must belong to his sheep. 

Three Actions & Promises Specifically, he tells the crowd that there are three actions that a member of Jesus’ flock will do. It’s not rocket science, neither is it secretive. It’s actually pretty simple.

He says in our passage that his followers listen to his voice. Second, they get to know him experientially (meaning we get to know him as he gets to know us. It is a relationship like any other in this way. And third, because we listen to him and get to know him, we walk around with him.

I told you, it ain’t rocket science.

I’ve got a friend who was born and raised in the Navajo Nation, and she grew up tending sheep on the reservation. She told me of how shepherds occasionally came together after long, lonely days with their sheep. There might be three or four shepherds who would meet in a central location, on a plain with a good amount of grass, and they’d spend the afternoon talking with one another, their sheep all mingled together, grazing. When it was time for them to go back home, the shepherds would stand at different parts of the plain and call out to their sheep. This muddled mass of sheep, all bunched together, would quickly dissipate as each individual sheep went towards the voice of their shepherd. The sheep had no issue distinguishing their shepherd’s voice from all the others that called out.

“My sheep listen to my voice,” Jesus says. People of faith are first marked by their ability to distinguish and listen to the voice of Jesus above all others. They realize they are not the source of all knowledge and truth, and they’re skeptical of the others who claim to have all the answers. Instead, they look to their Good Shepherd for guidance, because ultimately, he knows the way, for he is the way.

Along the way, as we listen to his voice, we get to know our shepherd, and he gets to know us. We learn new things about one another and build upon a relationship of love and care. This is not a one-sided relationship; our Shepherd knows us, but that does not stop him from wanting to get to know us more. 

Because we have found his voice trustworthy, and we care for him as he cares for us, we delight in walking with him. It becomes our greatest joy to follow him.

And you know, Jesus could’ve ended it there, but there is always something more with Jesus. We are told that because we have put our faith in him, we are gifted three realities, three promises. 

Jesus tells the crowd, “I give [my sheep] eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father’s hand. I and the Father are one.”

He gives us eternal life, meaning a deep, abundant, and lasting life. We may look for this our whole life, but it is a gift that only Jesus can give.

Second, Jesus offers security to his sheep, they will never be snatched out of his hand. We can be certain that no matter what happens in life, we are safe with him.

And lastly, for good measure, he reassures us once more that we are forever safe. Not only are we in his care, but we are in the strong hands of God the Father. Because Jesus and the Father are one, the writer Dale Bruner translates the phrase to say, “[Jesus] and the Father are one great grip.” 

This should give us great comfort as we go through life. We are not left alone to fend for ourselves; God has got us, and he will never let us go.

In our moments of stifling fear and doubt, God will have a hold on us, even when we are barely hanging onto him. The Father and Son are holding onto us tightly, with an unshakable embrace of a Shepherd utterly devoted to his sheep.

Conclusion In this teaching, Jesus reframes Hanukkah — this festival remembering the Temple’s renewal and rededication — and through the lens of faith, we discover that Jesus is not only the new Temple, the very place God’s glory resides, but he is renewing and reconsecrating the people of God to be his flock.

Those with ears to hear are called to listen and believe the shepherd’s voice. Unbeknownst to the crowd, Jesus was offering a wholesale reconsecration not of a Temple or any building but of people…of them, right then and there. 

And the same is true today, this passage is a reminder of your consecration, maybe not as a monarch or as a pope, but of something even more precious: you are a sheep of God’s own flock, and there is no greater gift.

And so, if you want to find renewal in your life, seek the voice of the Shepherd.

If you want deep, lasting life in this age and the age to come, be in relationship with the Shepherd.

If you want to know the way, follow where the Shepherd leads.

And no matter what, never forget that you are held tightly by a love that is so mysterious and grand that it could only come from God himself.

Easter IV. Year C. John 10:22-30. Much of the gospel passage comments based on Dale Bruner’s John Commentary.

[i] https://www.pewresearch.org/religious-landscape-study/

[ii] King Richard the Second, Act III Scene ii

[iii] Dale Bruner references an unnamed person, pg. 635