Jesus made an interesting choice when he decided to use shepherds, and the things in their lives, as a metaphor for leadership and righteous living.

On the one hand there is language in Scripture that speaks of David as the Shepherd of Israel, and who didn’t revere David in Jesus’ day? David was not just handsome- he was beautiful. David was not just a King- he was a conqueror. It was as though people, in their mind’s eye, saw David with a sling in one hand banishing the Philistines and an iron pen in the other writing psalms on parchment he had made from the skin of goats that morning before breakfast. Before there even was a Renaissance, David was a Renaissance man. The common expectation was that the Messiah who would save Israel would come out of the lineage of David- David the marvelous, the wonderful, David the strong.

But somehow this exalted expectation, built on the glorious David of memory, became divorced from its true and humble beginnings. David had been the youngest son of seven in a culture that honored the first born with everything and left the rest with no inheritance. David was so on the margins that he had to be brought in from the sheep meadow to even be visible so that Samuel might select him as God’s choice for king of Israel. The truth at the root of legend is history, and David, one of the most beloved and revered rulers of Israel was, in fact, a shepherd first. It was God’s decision to lift David, and Samuel’s sacramental anointing in God’s name, that filled the air with the smell of balsam and made this David, with old lanolin on his hands and new scented oil in his hair, visible as the king of Israel.

How ironic then, that in Jerusalem in the days of Jesus, the yardstick used to measure social-standing in daily life put shepherds at the bottom. In common perception it was better to be a king than a carpenter, and anything was better than being a shepherd.

Shepherds were the bottom-rung of the social ladder. When shepherds would come into Jerusalem for one of the religious festivals, those who felt higher up would look down on the unclean out-of-towners. They probably moved upwind muttering things like: "those who lay down with livestock will never touch me." And the smell that came from those shepherds was not the fragrance of fir trees.

This is the context into which Jesus proclaimed, "I am the Good Shepherd." Imagine Jesus standing here, in this nave, and announcing to us, "I am the Righteous Garbage Collector." We’d look at His coveralls and we would know what He had been working with- even with our eyes closed. Now imagine that Jesus is standing here because he knows we have been searching for a new rector for quite some time.

We’d sent out our profile- listed our expectations- and here is Jesus, as a self-proclaimed candidate for the job! Most business consultants will tell you how important it is to make a good first impression.

Guess how the garbage collector from Galilee, the guy with the backwoods accent-who has just distracted us from worship- is doing with the search committee right about now. O look, there’s Mr. Jones. He is guiding Jesus by the elbow. Wait a minute where are they going? As the church door shuts behind them we can hear their voices on the wind, "Thanks for coming," says Mr. Jones, "but we’ve got a pretty good idea of what we’re looking for and you don’t really fit our profile." Jones is back, great let’s move on.

Do we begin to get a sense of the uphill journey Jesus was treading among the Pharisee, the Saducees and the proxies of Rome, well before he picked up the cross and struggled up that incline that led to the Cross on top of Golgatha?

Talk of "Righteous Garbage Collectors" and "Good Shepherds" would certainly have shock value for the society minded, but clearly Jesus had better pull in something other than our norms of social hierarchy or He will lose both his 1st century and His 21st century listeners in a hurry.

But could it be that we put too much stock in our sense of the social order as it is and not enough into the potential that God sees?

Perhaps this is why God has called Dressers of Sycamore Trees like Amos to be prophets, and shepherds like David to be Kings. Maybe this is why God became incarnate as a baby and not as a Tyrannosaurus Rex. A dinosaur has power, and a mouth full of swords- it can crush your body and eat you alive. But a baby can captivate your attention with nothing more than funny faces, and win your heart with a gurgling noise if it sounds even remotely like your name. We long to be called by our names, especially by the voice of one whom we love and whom we know loves us.

So what if life isn’t about the power we can amass as an individual, for our own wellbeing, or which rung on an imaginary, and everchanging, ladder we inhabit? What if real life, true life, abundant life is about how consciously we can live into an interrelationship among different but necessary parts under the loving hand and gaze of God? What if life is about guarding and guiding, feeding and raising all the little ones so that they might grow to be great in the eyes of the Lord?

We’re veering back toward that shepherd imagery aren’t we – perhaps we are better off thinking of ourselves as flocks of sheep, rather than as lone wolves. Perhaps we do, in fact, need a shepherd with us, to guide us, not a warrior on a horse way out in front.

Agrarian societies knew they needed providers of grain and meat, oats and goats. Someone had to manage the process of trade goods in the marketplace. Somebody else needed to organize the prayers in the Temple.

Surely the work of each made the life of the whole richer and more possible; the hand needed the eye and the foot needed the less honorable parts of the body in order that the whole might have life and breath and movement.

We need connection in order to live too. But we are even less aware of our interconnections than were 1st century dwellers. Many of our children think milk comes from the store instead of from cows. When we think of wool we probably think of our winter pants or sweaters we bought at Penny’s or T.J.Maxx, not sheep off in a field with bugs and burrs tangled in the odorous curls of their oily coats.

But even a city dweller knows what a gate is. A gate makes a separation between one space and the next. There are gates that lead to gardens. These gates simply keep the rabbits out of the lettuce. Some of us have lived in urban settings in which we have placed metal gates over our windows and doors to keep things much more dangerous than rabbits out of the places where we lie down to sleep.

Then there are the gates to ancient cities, like Jerusalem, that were meant to allow trade with others but also to offer protection of the whole people, in times of war.

Jesus may not have had keeping us safe from bunnies in mind, but He certainly meant to offer protection from those things that corrupt and destroy the people of God. Jesus lies down in the gap and separates us from the ultimate predators-sin and death. Jesus offers Himself as the entrance into eternal life. So Jesus adds, "I am the gate," to His descriptors of the work of the Good Shepherd.

We may not know that shepherds build an enclosure for their sheep, then lie down in the opening to keep them safe from predators in the night. But we know what it feels like to be at risk and we know what it feels like to have someone we trust watch over us so that we can safely graze, or drink from still water, or sleep in safety as we grow in knowledge and love.

We are the sheep of His pasture whether we worship in Monkton or Walbrook. We are members of one body, through our baptism, whether our skin is lighter or darker than that of the brothers and sisters in Christ who sit around us.

Yes, we have differences- some of which do not matter, and others of which we will continue to stumble over until we are willing to look together, and work together, to clear a highway for the Lord, even in the wilderness. If we are willing to walk, and to work, God himself will lower the mountains and raise up the valleys and lead us to greener grass than we have ever beheld, and the water of life that ends all thirst will flow even from the arid rock of a difficult and painful past.

So give us strength and courage, Lord, that we might look over our shoulders, back at the road we have traveled - noting the places of trespass, the times of trials, and honoring those in every generation who have helped to bring us to this day, this day of sitting together in one church, as one body, with one faith, and one Lord, AND pressing on ahead toward the crown of glory you promise to give to those who persevere.

Lower the mountains, O Lord in heaven, and raise our eyes to the hills. Let us look up, up to the Savior who died for us: up to the gate that leads to eternal life for all who hear, and follow, the sound of His voice.

Let Him speak in our midst and let us answer- with one voice;
Let every man, woman and child be change more and more into the likeness of your Son
As this day turns into evening, and this long night is followed by a brighter dawn.

Then let us look forward to that glorious day when our understanding will have deepened, our love will have broadened, the hard work of reconciliation and restoration will have been honestly engaged and then…

Then, there will be no Greek or Jew, no male or female, no black or white, just God’s beloved at worship -singing full throated at the throne of God, "blessed is the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world, and glory to our God, forever.
AMEN