Has anyone here ever worked as a shepherd, or known someone who did?  My husband and I kept goats for a long time, but never sheep.  We did get to know a shepherd one summer in Nevada.  We never actually saw him, but we did see the messages he carved on trees as he followed the sheep:  Antonio Hidalgo, peruano, borreguero, con muchos cojones y poco dinero.[1]

This congregation is named for a shepherd, the one who is shepherd of us all, and indeed of all humanity.  We’ve seen lots of pictures of him in clean white robes with a shining lamb on his shoulders.  The actual work of a shepherd is a lot dirtier and bloodier than that.  It’s hard and dangerous work, and sometimes even boring.  That image of a good shepherd is even older than Jesus.  It’s older than David, who was also a shepherd like our Peruvian friend, both of them poets who left their mark on the world. 

David was a shepherd boy with a lot of older brothers who seemed like much better possibilities to be king after Saul.  But Samuel chose the youngest, still out in the wilderness tending the sheep.  David is famous for taking on the big bully in the neighborhood with only his slingshot.  He certainly had courage – and not much money – at that stage in his life.

Yet when David became king of Israel, it seems power went to his head.  He walked out on his balcony one day and saw a beautiful woman taking a bath in her garden.  He seduces her and then sends her husband the soldier off to the front lines to be killed.  Then he married Bathsheba.  We never get to hear whether she thought that was a good idea or not.  It was an act of royal power – or the act of a bully, like Goliath.

Nathan the prophet comes to visit and challenges King David for acting like a wolf instead of a shepherd.  David begins to remember who he is and what his vocation is supposed to be.  He recognizes the evil he’s done and repents.  That is the beginning of healing – turning in the right direction, toward a holier relationship with God and neighbor.  Nathan is the one acting as shepherd here, leading the king back into healthy pasture.

The psalm we read remembers an image of God as shepherd, as one who guides people in the right ways.  It’s speaking to God as a shepherd:

8 You are my hiding-place; you preserve me from trouble; *

you surround me with shouts of deliverance.

9 “I will instruct you and teach you in the way that you should go; *

I will guide you with my eye.

10 Do not be like horse or mule, which have no understanding; *

who must be fitted with bit and bridle, or else they will not stay near you.” [2]

Some shepherds can guide their sheepdogs with their eyes, directing them to move the sheep in one direction or another.  A shepherd who knows the sheep very well might do it directly, and an effective shepherd can certainly keep the sheep nearby without tying them up.

The gospel story is also about the work of shepherds.  The Pharisee who invites Jesus to dinner hasn’t done a very good job of shepherding, however.  He hasn’t offered his guest any water for washing, or oil for anointing, or even a hospitable greeting.  But a wandering sheep comes to the table and does the shepherd’s job.  She is simply a woman of the city – a sinner, like every other sheep in town – and she comes to tend a weary lamb.  Her tears rain down on Jesus’ feet, and she uses her hair for a towel, like the wool of a sheep.  She brings balm for Jesus’ head – the Greek word is the same as the one for myrrh, used for anointing dead bodies.  She has washed and dried and anointed the lamb of God.  She has already done this act of shepherding when Jesus tells her that her wandering, her sin, has been set right.  She is on the right path again.  And then he tells her to go in peace.

The other guests grumble at Jesus for “sending her sins away.”  Somehow they seem to think people ought to stay in their place – especially a place they can judge as sinful.  But the good shepherd is always working to get people turned around and on the right road.  He sends the woman away – to take the road to the reign of God, to the heart of God, the road home.  Jesus’ early followers actually called their new community “the road” or ”the way” in the same way that Exodus is about the road out of slavery.  The Jesus road leads home.  

The next thing we hear is that Jesus is on the road again as well, telling people about the good news of the kingdom of God – another way of talking about that healed world, at home and at peace in God.  Jesus has quite a flock with him on the road – 12 apostles, women who’ve been healed, and other women who are supporting the whole group.  These women are feeding and sheltering and shepherding the whole group.  The word that’s used in Greek says it is diaconal ministry. 

Several of you were present yesterday when the church called a new shepherd.  Her name is Anne, and she is a new bishop in your midst, who will assist in this shepherding work.  You will find that, like Bishop Curry and Bishop Marble, she is very clear that she is one of the sheep as well. 

We’re all sheep, and we’re all meant to be shepherds as well.  This flock of sheep travels the Jesus road together, and we share the serving ministry. This kind of shepherding is what good parents offer their children – and today we celebrate the shepherding work of all the fathers among us.  What you’re doing at el Centro Comunitario MOAR[3] is shepherding – and you’re doing it as you gather the community here on summer nights to eat and play soccer on the grass together.  You’re gathering a Jesus flock as you teach children and feed hungry people and teach and learn in both English and Spanish and computer languages. 

We have the same good shepherd, who invites us all to share the shepherding work.  The psalmist – maybe David – gives us an image of what it’s like to know God as our shepherd. 

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
2   He makes me lie down in green pastures;

            he leads me beside still waters;
3   he restores my soul.

            He leads me in right paths for his name’s sake.

4 Even though I walk through the darkest valley,

            I fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff – they comfort me.

5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;

            you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,

            and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long[4].

Jesus tells us to shepherd others.  We are sheep of his fold, and we are shepherds for others – forgiving as we have been forgiven, washing feet and anointing, and feeding the hungry with good things.  It doesn’t require riches, only the courage of a loving heart, a heart that knows its home is with the great good shepherd of us all.  Like the woman of the city who bathed Jesus’ feet, we, too are sent out in peace, restored to the right road, gathering others with us on the same journey.  Go in peace, and be a shepherd – a good shepherd.

Has anyone here ever worked as a shepherd, or known someone who did?  My husband and I kept goats for a long time, but never sheep.  We did get to know a shepherd one summer in Nevada.  We never actually saw him, but we did see the messages he carved on trees as he followed the sheep:  Antonio Hidalgo, peruano, borreguero, con muchos cojones y poco dinero.[1]

This congregation is named for a shepherd, the one who is shepherd of us all, and indeed of all humanity.  We’ve seen lots of pictures of him in clean white robes with a shining lamb on his shoulders.  The actual work of a shepherd is a lot dirtier and bloodier than that.  It’s hard and dangerous work, and sometimes even boring.  That image of a good shepherd is even older than Jesus.  It’s older than David, who was also a shepherd like our Peruvian friend, both of them poets who left their mark on the world. 

David was a shepherd boy with a lot of older brothers who seemed like much better possibilities to be king after Saul.  But Samuel chose the youngest, still out in the wilderness tending the sheep.  David is famous for taking on the big bully in the neighborhood with only his slingshot.  He certainly had courage – and not much money – at that stage in his life.

Yet when David became king of Israel, it seems power went to his head.  He walked out on his balcony one day and saw a beautiful woman taking a bath in her garden.  He seduces her and then sends her husband the soldier off to the front lines to be killed.  Then he married Bathsheba.  We never get to hear whether she thought that was a good idea or not.  It was an act of royal power – or the act of a bully, like Goliath.

Nathan the prophet comes to visit and challenges King David for acting like a wolf instead of a shepherd.  David begins to remember who he is and what his vocation is supposed to be.  He recognizes the evil he’s done and repents.  That is the beginning of healing – turning in the right direction, toward a holier relationship with God and neighbor.  Nathan is the one acting as shepherd here, leading the king back into healthy pasture.

The psalm we read remembers an image of God as shepherd, as one who guides people in the right ways.  It’s speaking to God as a shepherd:

8 You are my hiding-place; you preserve me from trouble; *

you surround me with shouts of deliverance.

9 “I will instruct you and teach you in the way that you should go; *

I will guide you with my eye.

10 Do not be like horse or mule, which have no understanding; *

who must be fitted with bit and bridle, or else they will not stay near you.” [2]

Some shepherds can guide their sheepdogs with their eyes, directing them to move the sheep in one direction or another.  A shepherd who knows the sheep very well might do it directly, and an effective shepherd can certainly keep the sheep nearby without tying them up.

The gospel story is also about the work of shepherds.  The Pharisee who invites Jesus to dinner hasn’t done a very good job of shepherding, however.  He hasn’t offered his guest any water for washing, or oil for anointing, or even a hospitable greeting.  But a wandering sheep comes to the table and does the shepherd’s job.  She is simply a woman of the city – a sinner, like every other sheep in town – and she comes to tend a weary lamb.  Her tears rain down on Jesus’ feet, and she uses her hair for a towel, like the wool of a sheep.  She brings balm for Jesus’ head – the Greek word is the same as the one for myrrh, used for anointing dead bodies.  She has washed and dried and anointed the lamb of God.  She has already done this act of shepherding when Jesus tells her that her wandering, her sin, has been set right.  She is on the right path again.  And then he tells her to go in peace.

The other guests grumble at Jesus for “sending her sins away.”  Somehow they seem to think people ought to stay in their place – especially a place they can judge as sinful.  But the good shepherd is always working to get people turned around and on the right road.  He sends the woman away – to take the road to the reign of God, to the heart of God, the road home.  Jesus’ early followers actually called their new community “the road” or ”the way” in the same way that Exodus is about the road out of slavery.  The Jesus road leads home.  

The next thing we hear is that Jesus is on the road again as well, telling people about the good news of the kingdom of God – another way of talking about that healed world, at home and at peace in God.  Jesus has quite a flock with him on the road – 12 apostles, women who’ve been healed, and other women who are supporting the whole group.  These women are feeding and sheltering and shepherding the whole group.  The word that’s used in Greek says it is diaconal ministry. 

Several of you were present yesterday when the church called a new shepherd.  Her name is Anne, and she is a new bishop in your midst, who will assist in this shepherding work.  You will find that, like Bishop Curry and Bishop Marble, she is very clear that she is one of the sheep as well. 

We’re all sheep, and we’re all meant to be shepherds as well.  This flock of sheep travels the Jesus road together, and we share the serving ministry. This kind of shepherding is what good parents offer their children – and today we celebrate the shepherding work of all the fathers among us.  What you’re doing at el Centro Comunitario MOAR[3] is shepherding – and you’re doing it as you gather the community here on summer nights to eat and play soccer on the grass together.  You’re gathering a Jesus flock as you teach children and feed hungry people and teach and learn in both English and Spanish and computer languages. 

We have the same good shepherd, who invites us all to share the shepherding work.  The psalmist – maybe David – gives us an image of what it’s like to know God as our shepherd. 

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
2   He makes me lie down in green pastures;

            he leads me beside still waters;
3   he restores my soul.

            He leads me in right paths for his name’s sake.

4 Even though I walk through the darkest valley,

            I fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff – they comfort me.

5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;

            you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,

            and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long[4].

Jesus tells us to shepherd others.  We are sheep of his fold, and we are shepherds for others – forgiving as we have been forgiven, washing feet and anointing, and feeding the hungry with good things.  It doesn’t require riches, only the courage of a loving heart, a heart that knows its home is with the great good shepherd of us all.  Like the woman of the city who bathed Jesus’ feet, we, too are sent out in peace, restored to the right road, gathering others with us on the same journey.  Go in peace, and be a shepherd – a good shepherd.

Proper 6C – El Buen Pastor

June 17, 2013

Katharine Jefferts Schori

¿Hay alguien aquí que ha trabajado como pastor o borreguero, o conoce a alguien que lo hizo?  Mi marido y yo estábamos pastores de cabras hace muchos años, pero nunca ovejas. Llegamos a conocer a un pastor, un verano en las montañas de Nevada.  En realidad nunca lo vimos, pero nos hicieron ver los mensajes que talló en los árboles mientras seguía las ovejas:  Antonio Hidalgo, peruano, borreguero, con mucho coraje y poco dinero.  (El usó otra palabra, mas salada).

Esta congregación tiene el nombre de un pastor, quien es pastor de todos nosotros, y de hecho de toda la humanidad.  Hemos visto un montón de pinturas de él con túnica blanca y limpia, y con un cordero brillante en sus hombros.  El verdadero trabajo de un pastor es mucho más sucio y sangriento que eso.  Es un trabajo duro y peligroso, ya veces incluso aburrido.  Esa imagen de un buen pastor es aún más antigua que Jesús.  Es más antigua que David, que también era un pastor como nuestro amigo peruano, los dos poetas que dejaron su marca en el mundo.

David era un joven pastor con muchos hermanos mayores que parecían mucho mejores posibilidades de ser rey después de Saúl.  Pero Samuel escogió a lo más joven, todavía en el desierto cuidando las ovejas.  David es famoso por enfrentar al gran matón del barrio sólo con su honda.  Ciertamente tenía coraje – y no mucho dinero – en esa etapa de su vida.

Sin embargo, cuando David se convirtió en rey de Israel, el poder parece haber subido a la cabeza.  Salió al balcón un día y vio a una mujer hermosa que toma un baño en su jardín.  Él la seduce y luego envía a su marido el soldado al frente del batalle para ser matado.  Luego se casó con Betsabé.  Nunca llegamos a saber si ella pensaba que era una buena idea o no.  Era un acto del poder real, o el acto de un matón, como Goliat.

Natán el profeta viene de visita y se enfrenta al rey David para actuar como un lobo en lugar de un pastor.  David comienza a recordar quién es y cuál es su vocación.  Reconoce el mal que ha hecho y se arrepiente.  Ese es el comienzo de la curación – de inflexión en la dirección correcta, hacia una relación más sagrada con Dios y con su prójimo.  Natán es el que actúa como pastor aquí, lo que lleva al rey de nuevo en pasto saludable.

El salmo que hemos leído recuerda una imagen de Dios como pastor, como el que guía a las personas en la forma correcta.  El habla con Dios como un pastor:

            8          Tú eres mi escondite; me guardarás de angustias; *

                                    con gritos de liberación me rodearás.

            9          “Te instruiré, y te enseñaré el camino en que debes andar; *

                                    sobre ti fijaré mis ojos.

            10        No seas como el caballo, o como el mulo, sin entendimiento; *

                                    que ha de ser sujetado con cabestro y con freno,

                                    porque si no, no se acerca a ti”.[1]

Algunos pastores pueden guiar a sus perros pastores con sus ojos, indicando la dirección para mover las ovejas.  Un pastor que conoce a las ovejas muy bien podría hacerlo directamente, y un pastor efectivo sin duda puede mantener a las ovejas cerca sin frenas o cuerdas.

El Evangelio trata también del trabajo de los pastores.  El fariseo que invita a Jesús a cenar no ha hecho un muy buen trabajo de pastoreo.  No se ha ofrecido a su invitado el agua para el lavado, o aceite de unción, ni siquiera un saludo hospitalario.  Sin embargo, una oveja descarriada llega a la mesa y hace el trabajo del pastor.  Ella es simplemente una mujer de la ciudad – un pecador, como cualquier otra oveja en la ciudad – y viene a servir a un cordero cansado.  Sus lágrimas caen como lluvia sobre los pies de Jesús, y ella utiliza su pelo por una toalla, como la lana de una oveja.  Ella trae un bálsamo para la cabeza de Jesús – la palabra griega es la mirra, ungüento de cuerpos muertos.  Ella ha lavado y secado y ungió el cordero de Dios.  Ella ya lo ha hecho este acto de pastoreo cuando Jesús le dice que su error, su pecado, ha sido despedido.  Ella está en el camino correcto de nuevo.  Y entonces él le dice que vaya en paz.  El la despide en paz.

Los otros huéspedes se quejan de Jesús por despidiendo sus pecados.  Parece que prefieran que las personas deben permanecer en su lugar, especialmente en un lugar que ellos puedan juzgar como algo pecaminoso.  Pero el buen pastor siempre está trabajando para que la gente se diera la vuelta y conseguir en el camino correcto.  Él envía a la mujer – para seguir el camino hasta el reino de Dios, hasta el corazón de Dios, al hogar.  Los primeros seguidores de Jesús en realidad se llama su nueva comunidad “el camino” de la misma manera que Éxodo significa el camino desde la esclavitud.  El camino de Jesús nos lleva a casa, al hogar, a la morada del divino.

Lo siguiente que oímos es que Jesús así está en el camino otra vez, decirle a la gente acerca de las buenas nuevas del reino de Dios – otra forma de hablar de ese mundo sanado, en casa de la paz de Dios.  Jesús tiene un gran rebaño con él en el camino – los doce apóstoles, las mujeres que han sido curadas, y otras mujeres que están apoyando y cuidando a todo el grupo.  Estas mujeres son pastores dando la alimentación y el refugio y el pastoreo todo el rebaño.  La palabra que se usa en griego dice que es un ministerio diaconal. 

Algunos de ustedes estuvieron presentes ayer cuando la iglesia llama un nuevo pastor por esta diócesis.  Se llama Anne o Ana, y ella es una nueva obispa en medio de ustedes, que va a asistir en ese ministerio pastoral.  Van ustedes ver que ella, como obispo Curry, y obispo Marble, es muy claro que ella es una de las ovejas también.  

Todos somos ovejas, y todos estamos llamados a ser pastores también.  Este rebaño de ovejas recorre el camino de Jesús juntos, y compartimos el ministerio de servir.  Este tipo de pastoreo es lo que los buenos padres ofrecen a sus hijos – y hoy se celebra la labor de pastoreo de todos los padres entre nosotros.  Lo que están haciendo en el Centro Comunitario MOAR[2] es pastoreando – y lo están haciendo cuando se reúnen la comunidad aquí en las tardes de verano para comer y jugar al fútbol.  Están ustedes reuniendo un rebaño de Jesús al enseñar a niños y alimentar a los hambrientos y enseñar y aprender idiomas – ya sea Inglés o Español o la del computador.

Tenemos el mismo buen pastor, que nos invita a todos a compar tir el trabajo de pastoreo.  El salmista – quizás David – nos da una imagen de lo que es conocer a Dios como nuestro pastor.

1      El Señor es mi pastor; *

              nada me faltará.

2      En verdes pastos me hace yacer; *

              me conduce hacia aguas tranquilas.

3      Aviva mi alma *

              y me guía por sendas seguras por amor de su Nombre.

4      Aunque ande en valle de sombra de muerte, no temeré mal alguno; *

              porque tú estás conmigo; tu vara y tu cayado me infunden aliento.

5      Aderezarás mesa delante de mí en presencia de mis angustiadores; *

              unges mi cabeza con óleo; mi copa está rebosando.

6      Ciertamente el bien y la misericordia me seguirán todos los días de mi vida, *

              y en la casa del Señor moraré por largos días.[3]

Jesús nos manda a ser pastores por nuestros vecinos.  Somos las ovejas de su rebaño, y somos pastores para los demás – perdonar como hemos sido perdonados, lavar los pies y ungir los heridas, alimentar a los hambrientos de cosas buenas.  No requiere riquezas, sólo el coraje de un corazón lleno de amor, un corazón que conoce su casa con el gran buen pastor de todos.  Como la mujer de la ciudad que baña los pies de Jesús, también nosotros somos despedidos en paz, restaurado en el camino derecho, reuniendo a los demás en el mismo viaje con nosotros. Vayan en paz y sean pastores, buen pastores.

---

[1] Salmo 32:8-10

[2] http://www.elbuenpastordedurham.com/servicios-a-la-comunidad-2/moar/

[3] Salmo 23