Friday after the Fourth Sunday of Lent: Vulnerable Shepherds

Lessons:
Psalm 102; Jeremiah 23:1-8; Romans 8:28-39; John 6:52-59

 

There are times scripture hits so close to the bone one must ask, is this too personal to write.  This is one of them.  I doubt there is a self-reflective clergy person who can read today’s lections and not feel a twinge.  From Jeremiah we hear:
”Woe to the shepherds who destroy and scatter the sheep of my pasture! says the Lord. Therefore thus says the Lord, the God of Israel, concerning the shepherds who shepherd my people: It is you who have scattered my flock, and have driven them away, and you have not attended to them. So I will attend to you for your evil doings, says the Lord.  Then I myself will gather the remnant of my flock out of all the lands where I have driven them, and I will bring them back to their fold, and they shall be fruitful and multiply.  I will raise up shepherds over them who will shepherd them, and they shall not fear any longer, or be dismayed, nor shall any be missing, says the Lord.”   (23:1-4)

As one weighs out the daily requirements of vocation, there is always the question of what now is faithful.  Many days the questions answer themselves easily, almost routinely.  Yet there are moments that do not, but even these a wise pastor has some system of support to rely upon for greater wisdom. 

And churches being made up of people who differ in gifts and perceptions and spiritual journeys will differ on important issues and mundane ones.  Even what may seem mundane can hold beyond it some concern or unresolved aspect of life that is deep and surprising. “Flocks” sometimes scatter over these seemingly mundane things like the removal of a tree, the shifting of sacred furniture, the change of a language form, or a power shift.  One gains wisdom as a pastor often in the course of navigating these shifts or else one may burn out.  Sometimes you hear the ripples of: “Woe to the shepherds who destroy and scatter the sheep of my pasture!” Sometimes one wonders, is that God’s voice beneath the accuser’s voice, and many times one does not.

For me the twinge hits hardest when there is a necessary shift in the sacred person’s own life, when all the faithfulness in the world cannot prevent the movement that is afoot.  It can be a moral stand which challenges the cultural norm for which the Shepherd will pay and the flock may pay. Looking over our shoulder we see such moments peppering the civil rights movements of race, full gender inclusion,  inclusion/exclusion of differing sexual orientations.  Every war has had its actively non-violent voices opposing war.  People walk out of religious organizations over such shifts.

The twinge hits harder when what is deeply personal shifts for the sacred person, the shepherd; a child dies, a marriage ends.  For the first there is some room for grief and an expectation of healing in due course (‘due course’ can vary in interpretation as to how long this should take).

The second is both the same and different.  A sacred symbol has shattered beyond the hopes held by two (or more) people. Vows taken, sacred hopes entered into always house deep meaning.  Some people resonate from vows long held, others from vows long lost.  The rush in the community to sort out who to blame is of no help.  And should the Shepherd and spouse take up the challenge to find the grace to care and protect each other in the midst of this shatter, the vote is still out on how well the “flock” holds together.  Not every “Why?” can be answered nor should it be.

This was one of my deepest twinges of “Woe to the shepherd…” knowing I was by my essence "at fault."  We had been wise enough to each find support while we unraveled what could not be saved, no longer existed as it had.  We sought to live another vow of care for one another and our child primarily; and secondarily, a parish.  There were days when prayer was too intimate and yet connected to survival, when public liturgy depended on grace in away it never had. We lived in Lent’s full repentance knowing we would amend separately.  And yet there was this vow we had each taken floating in God’s mind/heart and even in ours. To this day the memory of it brings tears. Its redemption would look far different than we had hoped or planned.  We are graced with a friendship now.

It is essential to note this passage from Jeremiah goes on not in despair but hope.

Then I myself will gather the remnant of my flock out of all the lands where I have driven them, and I will bring them back to their fold, and they shall be fruitful and multiply. (23:3)

God did not drive many of them very far.  I was wise enough to invite a wise Shepherd in to tend where I could not even as I stayed. He could ask the deep and healing questions of their needs and wholeness.  God worked among them to gather God’s people in the core life of care to which we are all called. I stayed long enough for the first layer of healing, a year.

For me the real grace of today’s readings are in the Epistle:

We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.  For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn within a large family.  And those whom he predestined he also called; and those whom he called he also justified; and those whom he justified he also glorified.  What then are we to say about these things? If God is for us, who is against us?  (Romans 8:28-31)

Various things will bind us in life and various things will threaten to or will scatter us in life.  One thing only will truly hold us and that is the love of God.  We see it in Christ.  We join Christ in learning from him how to love God best.  That is part of what it is to be conformed to the image of the Son.  The other part is in how we love, forgive, aid in the becoming of each other.  I rely on this so often.  Don’t we all, knowingly or not.

The Epistle goes on:

Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?  (Romans 8:35)

Paul answers, “No.”  Nothing in all creation can separate us from this first and primary love if we choose to follow it, allow it in.

Yes there are chapters when prayer is too intimate and public liturgy is only navigated by grace and when hearts and even vows break.  There are times when life is hard and mending seems impossible.

But then there is God’s vow: Nothing in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

I depend on this vow.

It has even brought healing to one vow I could not fulfill and sent it back as friendship and as wisdom learned for the next time I would pledge myself.

For me, for so many, this is grace.