“If you are the Messiah, tell us
plainly.” Talk about a loaded request. And it happens at a most unique time: at
the Feast of Dedication.
Roughly 200 years earlier, around
166BC, Israel was a vassal in the Greek Empire. The Greeks wanted to Hellenize
the world and, as a result, no other religion or religious practices were
tolerated. So, Israel was forced to worship the Greek gods and goddesses –
Zeus, Apollo, Hermes, just to name a few – and even Israel’s temple was
scandalized by being used for worship of Zeus, the altar desecrated by
sacrifices to him, and all of the sacred vessels for worship of God were likewise
misused.
There was a faithful, God-fearing
family of Israelites called the Maccabees who finally had enough. Their name
means “hammer,” and they began to hammer against the Greeks, leading a
rebellion to overthrow and eliminate the Greeks from Israel. Finally
successful, they set about making Israel God-fearing worshippers again. The
temple was ritually cleansed. The desecrated altar was removed, destroyed, and
then replaced along with new worship furnishings. Finally, it was time to rededicate
the temple. Oil candles were placed in the Holy Menorah, the 8-fingered candelabra,
but only enough sacred oil was found for one day’s use. Not wanting to wait the
necessary eight days for new oil to be consecrated, the candles were filled,
the flames were lit, and miracle of miracles, the candles did not burn out for
eight days. Thus, the great tradition of the Feast of Dedication – or as we
know it today, Hannukah – began.
That was the festival that Jesus,
the Disciples, and all Jews were celebrating: the re-dedication of the Temple
by the Maccabees. It is no small thing that St. John places Jesus in the Temple
– specifically in Solomon’s colonnade – during this festival, because that
helps set up and introduce the tension that’s present. It’s brought to a head
with the question, “Are you the Messiah?” In other words, are you the Son of
David that we have been expecting? The Jews see the parallels: Two hundred years earlier, Israel was under
Greek rule; in Jesus day, under Roman rule. The Greeks were heathens; the
Romans were heathens. The Greeks had Israel under their thumbs; the Romans
ruled Israel with disdain. Just like 200 years earlier, Israel was again looking
for Messiah - a warrior Messiah, a Maccabee-like Messiah who was going to
re-establish Israel and get rid of the Romans.
This is why their question is so important:
Is this you, Jesus? Are you the Messiah? Are you the Christ? Are you going to
do what we expect?
Jesus’ answer isn’t what they
expect. It’s not a simple yes or no. Instead He says, “Pay attention to what I
am doing!” He’s been performing miracles, like Moses, feeding 5000. He’s been
healing the sick, like Elijah. His works demonstrate who He is! He is from God.
But His words show Him not just to be from the Father but to be, in fact, the
promised one: the Messiah, the Christ; yes – the Son of David.
But they don’t get it. They can’t
get it. They’re not of the sheep. They self-excluded themselves from the fold,
refusing to submit to this one who was born of Mary, descended not just from
David, but from of God. He is Messiah, but not the Messiah they expect. He is
coming to be the Shepherd. Not just a shepherd, but The Shepherd. And because
He’s not the kind of Messiah they expect, not the kind of Shepherd they want,
they cannot accept, they cannot believe, they will not listen, they will not
see, and they cannot follow.
Too often we misunderstand this
shepherd picture. We have a simple, soft, romantic picture of Jesus as a divine
Little Boy Blue. He’s traipsing through lush green grass, a staff in one hand,
and the other holds a baby lamb in his arm. Don’t get me wrong: there are times
this picture of Jesus is exactly what we need – when we face the valley of the
shadow of death, for example.
But there are other times when we
misunderstand this image of Jesus that we get ourselves in trouble with
simplistic thinking. What I mean is this picture of Jesus is one we can handle.
We’re comfortable with this picture of him. And we make this idea of the Good
Shepherd out to be the kind of Messiah we want. In a sense, we neuter Him and
take away His power and authority so that He’s neither threatening nor judging.
He becomes nothing more than understanding.
And this, then, becomes our
escape when we make our Shepherd out to be, well, our Shepherd, not God’s. We
justify the choices we make and actions we do by saying Jesus understands. Sexual
sins? Living together without being married, adultery, homosexuality? Jesus
understands. Slandering the boss,
spreading rumors about a co-worker, skipping out while still on the clock?
Jesus understands. Cheating on an exam, drawing ugly caricatures of your
teacher, skipping class? Jesus understands. Telling your parents off, swearing
at your kids, fighting with your brother or sister? Jesus understands. As long
as we make Jesus out to be the Shepherd-Messiah we want Him to be, literally in
our own image, we’re no better off than those first-century Jews who wanted
Jesus to be their political savior. At best, we create a Messiah as sympathizer;
at worst, an enabler. There is nothing good about that kind of good shepherd.
Jesus understands, yes, but not
that way. Sins cannot just be understood; they must be repented of and paid in
full. He understands what the Messiah must do to rescue, redeem and save. It’s
not going to be riding into battle like David to rule on a throne in Jerusalem.
It will take a King who is willing to die.
In the Old Testament, the shepherd
image is one that is used for kings, kings whose job it is to stand watch over
Israel. So, for example, in Ezekiel 34 when God says He will get rid of the
shepherds, he doesn’t mean the herdsmen of the hillside. He means the unfaithful
kings and wicked rulers of the people. They will be removed and, even more,
destroyed because of their unfaithfulness and He, God, will Himself shepherd
the people. So, when you hear Good Shepherd, hear Good King. This is a King who
will rule in a good, just way. He is the King who judges wisely. The things
that He showed in His ministry, these are the things that the Good King, the
Good Shepherd will do: He will care for His people; He will feed His people; He
will clothe His people; He will protect His people. In His life and ministry,
as He pointed out to the Jews, He is doing all of these things. But there is
something yet to come.
This King, this Shepherd, this
Messiah will die for His people. Jesus’ battle isn’t with the Hittites and
Jebusites and Alamakites; it’s with sin, death and the devil. The battle will take
place outside of Jerusalem, just outside the city walls. The Good Shepherd will
have a staff in His hand, placed there in mockery. His soft robes will be
stripped from His body and He will be nailed to His throne in nakedness and
shame, not in glory. His rule will be in humility and weakness, not in strength
and majesty. But in that weakness is strength, for His power is made perfect in
weakness. He surrenders, not to satan, but to His Father’s will, and He is the
perfect, once-for-all-sacrifice for the sins of His sheep, His people.
The gift of the Good Shepherd,
the Good King, is eternal life for all who are of His flock, who hear His voice
and in repentant faith, trust His life, death and resurrection for their sins,
for your sins, for my sins. And the Good King, the Good Shepherd, gives you His
pledge: no one – neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither things
present nor things to come, neither height nor depth nor anything else in all
creation – will separate you from His Father’s hand.
And moms: today as we give thanks
to God for you and the gift of motherhood, I want to remind you that the Good
Shepherd is particularly fond of women who share the same vocation as His own
mother. He forgives you for the times
you were angry with your husbands and you swore at your children; the times you
felt that you failed to live up to expectations; the times when you made
mistakes; the times you weren’t the perfect mother. A mother’s sins are
forgiven fully and completely. As an aside, God doesn’t call you to be perfect
mothers. He calls you to be faithful mothers, rearing and teaching your
children – no matter what age you are or they are – the fear and knowledge of
the Lord. Do this both in words and in actions. And, when you fail, then also
teach them the need for repentance and the power of forgiveness, both for
yourself and for your family as well.
To make sure you know, believe,
trust and rely that this is all true, the Good Shepherd makes sure you are still
able to hear His voice still today.
I remember when I was in high
school, driving through Georgetown and passing a church whose sign was written
in Spanish: La Iglesia del un Buen Pastor.
I thought, boy – is that guy arrogant. The church of the Good Pastor. I told my
Spanish teacher about that and made a wise-crack about the pastor being rather
highly opinionated about himself. That’s when she told me in Spanish, pastor
means shepherd. It actually comes from Latin. I tell you this story because it
is the perfect reminder of what the church is for: to be the place where the
voice of the Good Shepherd is heard. Luther once called the church “The
Mouth-House,” meaning it’s where the voice of the Good Shepherd sounds forth
with all of it’s truth and power.
And, when you come, you ask, “Is
this the Messiah?” And through the Word that is read and preached, in Baptismal
water and in bread and wine, Jesus will say that these all bear witness about
Him. They will tell you that He is God’s Messiah who came to be our Good
Shepherd, our Good King.
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