John 10:1-10

10‘Very truly, I tell you, anyone who does not enter the sheepfold by the gate but climbs in by another way is a thief and a bandit. 2The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. 3The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep hear his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. 4When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice. 5They will not follow a stranger, but they will run from him because they do not know the voice of strangers.’ 6Jesus used this figure of speech with them, but they did not understand what he was saying to them.

7 So again Jesus said to them, ‘Very truly, I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep. 8All who came before me are thieves and bandits; but the sheep did not listen to them. 9I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture. 10The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.

I stumbled on a great video that someone posted on facebook about an Irish dairy farmer. It was a crisp day in early March and the camera followed the farmer as he made his way to the barn that the cows had been in all winter long. It was on this day that the farmer would open the gate and they would finally be released after being stuck in the barn for so long. As he opened the gate, the cows rushed out and literally jumped for joy in the pasture. They were free at last. A beautiful site.

You could even see the relief on the farmer to see his animals so happy again. He wasn’t pleased to have to keep them penned in for so long, but it was the only way to keep them safe – it was the only way to keep them alive – in what was the coldest winter in a long, long time.

Such is the challenge of gates… of fences… of boundaries.

We need the freedom to go out to pasture… to be fed… to stretch our legs. It’s essential to our growth. But, in order to grow in a way that is healthy, we also need to be safe. And, to be safe, we need walls. We need boundaries.

I have boundaries on the mind. I attended a workshop on Monday that was mandated by Hudson River Presbytery for all pastors. We discussed how important it is for churches to be a place of safety and security… especially when so many people have experienced violation and abuse in so many different ways. We also discussed the tragic implications when the sacred trust is broken by church leaders. Our news headlines are full of examples of how it not only can wound people for life but also tear congregations apart.

Our facilitator lifted up Proverbs 25:28, which reads: “Like a city whose walls are broken through is a person who lacks self-control.” For all of us in the church, and especially those in leadership roles, self control is the key to keeping the walls of safety strong.

What history and experience has taught us is that we are able to maintain this self-control when we are well-balanced and well-fed... especially well-fed spiritually. This was reiterated during my study leave last week, and it is why, over the next, couple of months, our family will be taking a couple of trips away… so that we can recharge our batteries and so that I can serve you in a way that is healthy.

Boundaries are so important… and often so challenging to negotiate. When do you open the gate? When do you lock it down tight? This can be seen as difficult decisions are made in regard to the flooding of the Mississippi River. Yesterday, for the first time in almost 40 years, floodgates were opened in order to prevent flooding in New Orleans and Baton Rouge that would be devastating. But, as you know, other areas are being flooded… farmlands, homes, towns… in order to save those cities. Challenging decisions.

For the past thirty years, our denomination has been struggling to discern whether or not it is faithful to ordain to leadership either elders or ministers of the Word and Sacrament, people in open, committed same-gender relationships. This is an issue that has had vocal supporters on each side and a majority of Presbyterians who are unsure of what they believe or do not feel comfortable putting themselves into the fray.

Last summer, the General Assembly voted to change the ordination standards that would allow all – in whatever type of committed relationship they may be – to be ordained, if the congregation and presbytery determines they are fit for service and that they submit, joyfully, to the Lordship of Jesus Christ. This amendment was then sent to the presbyteries to be voted on. On Monday, a majority of presbyteries had voted in favor of the amendment, and our constitution will be amended on July 10th.

For some, this is truly something to celebrate, wherein we as a denomination affirm God’s justice and inclusivity of all people. For others, there is a sense of grief that we are turning away from scriptural authority. I suspect there are a mix of reactions in our congregation, and I encourage us all to engage in open and caring conversation with one another, making an extra effort to understand and honor the perspectives of our brothers and sisters who may disagree with us. For in doing so, we will all be blessed.

By careful listening to others who see things differently than I do, I have discerned that, at the core of the critiques of those in same-gendered relationships is a fear that there is a lack of boundaries… a lack of commitment to family structures that are essential to healthy faithful communities. If we allow this, anything goes, right?

What I appreciate in the new amendment is that it calls everyone – whatever their orientation – to commitment in their relationships and submission – joyful submission – to the Lordship of Jesus Christ.

As a pastoral colleague reminded me this week – and as our scripture for today affirms – “We’re not the gatekeepers, Jesus is.”

Not only is Jesus the Gate, the boundary of security, he is the Good Shepherd who leads us through it. He wants what’s best for us. He knows us. He calls us by name. He leads us out to the joy and freedom of green pastures, and he leads us safely back to the sheepfold when the dangers of night descend.

One of our congregational members – a theologian in our midst – shared with me their thoughts about this text.

I particularly like this passage, and the meaning it would have had in the largely pastoral society (who would have originally heard these words). Today, many of his real-world allusions to the daily existence of shepherds and their sheep are probably lost on modern folk. The shepherd's sheep know his sound, call, whistle, yodle - whatever - as the only absolute sound, the word, if you will, of safety and security. He walks ahead of them wherever they go, and his word draws them to the safe path. He leads them to pasture and water, and then draws them into the sheepfold at night. And then he himself lies down in the gate opening and becomes both the gatekeeper and the gate itself. Anyone who doesn't enter the fold through him is there for the wrong reasons. All the terrors of the darkness - very real and lethal terrors, like lions and thieves - are faced by him on behalf of his dumb, fearful, totally dependant sheep. He would and does lay down his life for these weak and thankless creatures. Unlike the literal, historical shepherd, though, our shepherd lays down his life, and then continues to call us to peace and security. Do we know his sound, his word, his call when we hear it?

Do we know his sound, his word, his call when we hear it?

There is someone we all know and love who heard the call so clearly. Though we grieve her loss, we know that Margaret Williams’ prayers were answered when she went home to be with the Lord last Sunday morning.

Margaret was very clear about her wishes for a private, simple service after she died. But, as I’ve been reflecting on the green pastures that the Good Shepherd leads us to, I can’t help but be reminded that she called Sunday mornings her “Green Spot.” Margaret had her grief and her struggles, but she lived for Sunday mornings when she could worship her God and be with her family of faith.

As I spent time with her family, we had opportunities to celebrate her life. I had the chance to hear stories about her when she was younger – stories that many of you know. Of how she was an excellent Sunday School teacher and how many people she would drive to church and other events. I was reminded of how she used to run, or shall I say, RULE, the kitchen. I hope that, as we grieve her loss as a family of faith, we will share memories of Margaret.

Through it all, through the good times and the bad, through the joys and the struggles, was her faith and her spiritual hunger. She knew where the green pastures were, and she knew the Shepherd that would take her there. And she knew who would take her home.

Among us, she had glimpses of the abundant life Jesus promised. And now, that abundant life is her reality… all the time.

May it be so for all of us. Amen.