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Sermon for the Ninth Sunday after Pentecost – July 21, 2024
Jeremiah 23:1-6, Psalm 23, Mark 6:30-34, 53-56
Dear friends, grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ.
As [Jesus] went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd.
What was it, exactly, that Jesus saw in this crowd that caused him to have compassion for them? What did he see in them that tugged on his heartstrings?
Actually, the response Jesus has here which is described as “compassion” is technically more related to the gut than the heart. He felt their situation in his gut. He felt their need deeply, to his core. He had a gut instinct to respond.
So what was their situation? What was their need? The scriptures tell us they were like sheep without a shepherd, but what does that mean?
I know there are a handful of you out there who have actual experience with sheep, but most of us are much more familiar with dogs. So, if you don’t mind me mixing metaphors just a bit, let me tell you about an experience I had recently with a dog.
On the morning of July 5th, I went out for a run. Being the morning after Independence Day, the sidewalks and streets were covered in cardboard casings from the fireworks people had shot off. This town really, really likes fireworks, and so they were everywhere, serving as a reminder of the loud booms and cracks heard throughout the night before.
By morning it was quiet. I didn’t see anybody out on the street. There was nobody driving by. And then I saw this dog. It was running on the other side of the road. It was panting with exhaustion. Its eyes looked frantic, but not in a menacing way. It looked more sad and confused than threatening. It was pretty obvious to me that this dog had been scared by all the explosions overnight and had bolted. Who knows how long it had been running or how far it was from home? I slowed to a walk and it looked at me, its ears perking up with hope. I started to walk towards it to see if it had a tag with a phone number or something. It stopped running too, and when it did I could see that it was trembling. I spoke to it in gentle, calming tones. It looked at me with those confused and frightened eyes. Then it gave me an expression that seemed to say, “Nope, you’re not my person!” and it ran off.
Now before someone comes after me for being anti-fireworks, let me assure you that that is not the point I’m trying to make. What I’m trying to say is that THIS is what it is like to be a sheep without a shepherd! It is an experience of being frantic and frightened and vulnerable and confused. It is an experience of running madly in any direction you can just try to get away from what is scaring you. To be a sheep without a shepherd is to be lost and exhausted and desperately looking for the one you know and trust to care for you.
This isn’t just something that happens to animals. It happens to people too. It happens to people all the time. This is what Jesus saw in the people he encountered that made him respond with this gut-level compassion.
Long ago, God had promised to send a new shepherd to care for his people. In the time of the prophet Jeremiah, the shepherds weren’t doing a good job of shepherding. In our first reading we heard how the shepherds were destroying and scattering the sheep. The shepherds Jeremiah is referring to are the kings of Israel. We often assume that anytime we hear of shepherds in the Bible that it is referring to pastors, but this isn’t in this case here. More about that in a bit. Here Jeremiah is talking about kings, and these kings were corrupt. Instead of caring for the sheep God had entrusted to them, they sought only their own power. Instead of providing for their sheep, they only lined their own pockets. Instead of being models of godliness, they abandoned God’s Word and God’s ways whenever it benefitted them to do so. And because of the negligence and the evil doings of these shepherd-kings, the sheep were scattered, unattended, alone, and afraid.
Through Jeremiah, God promised to tend to these wicked shepherd-kings. God promised to raise up new ones who would do a better job. And God did precisely that. God raised up shepherd-kings who were faithful and good, kings like Zerubbabel, who rebuilt the temple in Jerusalem.
Even better, however, God promised through Jeremiah that he would ultimately raise up through King David’s line “a righteous branch.” God promised that this particular shepherd would “reign as king and deal wisely,” that he would “execute justice and righteousness in the land.” God promised that “In his days Judah will be saved and Israel will live in safety.” God said, “This is the name by which he will be called: “The Lord is our righteousness.”
What God is promising here is that he himself will come to be their shepherd. God is promising that he himself will come to be their righteousness. What Jeremiah is saying is that Lord himself will come to make things right, the Lord himself will come to save his people, to gather all who were scattered. The Lord himself will come to be this shepherd, to lead them in right pathways for his name’s sake.
And in Jesus Christ, this righteous branch has come. In Jesus Christ, this promise has been fulfilled. Jesus is the shepherd who has come to reign as king and deal wisely. He is the shepherd who has come to make things right. He is the shepherd who has come to save.
We see Jesus doing precisely this as he encounters this group of people in our gospel reading. Jesus saw the fear and the desperation in their eyes. He saw how they were lost, how they had been scattered. He saw how they were frantic and exhausted and in need of one they could trust to truly care for them. And so, scripture tells us, “He had compassion for them, for they were like sheep without a shepherd.
Jesus is still this shepherd. He is the shepherd-king Jeremiah promised would come. He is the shepherd we hear about in the 23rd psalm. He is the Lord who leads people to green pastures and still waters, restoring their souls. He is the shepherd who has a gut-level reaction of compassion for all who are scattered, lost, confused, or afraid. He has come to those who were like sheep without a shepherd, so that they wouldn’t be without a shepherd anymore. He is that shepherd for us. He is that shepherd for you.
We live in a time when many people feel like scattered sheep, when many people feel a little frantic. We hear loud noises coming from the booming voices of those who stir up fear in order to shore up their own power. We have recently heard loud rifle cracks of political violence, which has everyone on edge. We have widespread loss of trust in many, maybe all, of our civic institutions, which has many people feeling disoriented and confused, not sure where to turn or who to believe.
On a more personal level, we see those sad and frightened eyes over and over again in people around us who are dealing with scary stuff. We see them in parents with a sick or medically fragile kid. We see them in those battling cancer, and in their spouses who feel so powerless to help. We see it in families that have experienced the devastating impact of addiction, which has become so tragically common in our country and our congregation. We see them in those who have held the hands of loved ones as they have walked through the valley of the shadow of death, and then had to learn to live without them, which is like learning to walk again.
We sometimes feel like scattered sheep, like lost dogs. We sometimes feel frantic and afraid, lost and vulnerable, desperate and confused. But we are not without a shepherd who cares for us.
Pastors are sometimes called shepherds. There’s a good reason for this. One of the most prominent images for pastoral work in the New Testament is that of shepherding. Pastors are to shepherd God’s people. They are to shepherd the congregation. But there is really only one shepherd, and that is Jesus.
Through the Doxology pastoral renewal program I have been participating in this past year I have come to view the pastor’s role of shepherding in a slightly different way. There I have been encouraged to think of pastors as sheepdogs.
Sheepdogs do indeed do the work of shepherding, but they do so by the direction of and on behalf of the real Shepherd. As sheepdogs, the pastor’s first job is to spend a lot of time looking at the Shepherd, keeping their eyes fixed on Him. Then they are to follow his lead in nudging the sheep in His direction, so that they would look at Him too.
As a sheepdog, sometimes the loud noises make me anxious too. But I know a guy! I know a shepherd. He is the only truly good shepherd. He is the only shepherd-king we can trust to care for us no matter what.
When he sees our frightened or frantic eyes, he has great compassion for us. He feels for us right down in his gut. And so he comes to us. He comes to lead us to green pastures and still waters. He comes to us to restore our souls. He comes to lead us in right pathways for his name’s sake. He comes to walk with us through the valley of the shadow. His rod and his staff comfort us. He prepares a table for us, and our cup overflows.
When you are tired, he is your rest. When you are afraid, he is your peace. When you feel lost, he will be your home.
Let us all keep our eyes on him.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
Rev. Jeffrey R. Spencer
Oak Harbor Lutheran Church