Sheep, Gates and Thieves

I’ve always been mildly interested in dreams. Not obsessively interested… I’ve never kept a journal of my dreams or done any sort of systematic work to try to interpret them. But I’m intrigued, and I wonder where they come from. In Scripture, of course, dreams are often directives from God. I’m not ready to make that affirmation in my own life, but I do wonder. Just a few nights ago I dreamed that I was a lector in some sort of worship service. The setting looked like our undercroft, but the service had something to do with St. James’, Old Town; the Reverend Mary Ann Taylor seemed to be officiating and some other people from St. James’ were there. The lectern from which I was to read looked more like a prayer desk and whenever I took my place to read both the lectern and I levitated, Harry Potter style, to float about ten feet up in the air. I tried out the lectern several times, and every time, up we went.

If God was trying to tell me something in that dream, I don’t have a clue what it might be. But I had a therapist tell me once that one way to probe the meaning of dreams was to consider that in my dreams I am, in fact, playing every role. Every person in that dream is me. I am not just myself moving through the story as we do in normal, waking, life interacting with others outside myself. That wasn’t really Mary Ann Taylor in my dream. That was some part of me, acting through the character of Mary Ann. We are all of the characters in our dreams. They act out different aspects of who we are. Their words are our words. Their actions are our actions.

I do have a point in telling you all this that relates to how we hear and interpret Scripture, especially this morning’s readings. Yes, I wanted to share my dream. But, more importantly, this whole subject of dream interpretation provokes me to consider that when I read or hear stories from the Bible, my role in those stories may not be the one I think of first. The question of "Who am I in this story" may not have an obvious answer.

Consider this morning’s gospel. This fourth Sunday of Easter is often informally called "Good Shepherd Sunday." The reading from John’s gospel is full of images pertaining to sheep and shepherding. When I place myself in this story my automatic assumption is that I am one of the sheep. To be a sheep may not always be a terribly flattering role, but in this story it is a comforting one. I am one of the sheep whom Jesus calls by name. I am one of Jesus’ own sheep; I know his voice; I feel his comfort and care, his protection, his guidance. Jesus is the Good Shepherd, and I am one of the sheep.

But Jesus uses another image for himself in this story in addition to the shepherd. Jesus calls himself the gate. "I am the gate for the sheep." Jesus is the gate. Biblical historians who study such things suggest that Jesus may not have been mixing his metaphors when he called himself both the shepherd and the gate. They think that often the shepherd was the gate. In Jesus’ day, shepherds built small enclosures to protect their sheep at night. These enclosures were built as roughly circular walls of piled up stones with a gap, a hole left in one place. After the shepherd had driven his or her flock of sheep through that opening into the fold for the night, the shepherd lay down across the opening to sleep. It was the shepherd’s own body that brought safety, comfort and community to that flock of sheep. It was the body of the Good Shepherd that served as the gate for Jesus’ followers in the early church. It is the Body of Christ today that provides safety, comfort and inclusion in the community for Christians.

But we are the Body of Christ, aren’t we? In this story, the role that is ours is not just the role of sheep. We are also the gate. As the Body of Christ in the world today we are responsible for the safety, the comfort, the inclusion of every member of God’s flock.

This image of a gate is a rich one. The shepherd's body as a gate served to complete, to encircle, the nighttime enclosure, ensuring safety, comfort and belonging. But when Jesus speaks of himself as the gate he seems to pick up on another meaning of the word as well. A gate can also be open. Sometimes when we say gate, we mean gateway. A gateway is an entry point into a new and different place. "Whoever enters by me will be saved," Jesus says. The gate is the entry point, the gateway to salvation. Jesus is the way to salvation. So, as the Body of Christ, we are to be the gateway to salvation for others.

It’s easier being sheep, I think. And never forget we are the sheep in this story, too. We are those who are called by name, comforted, guided and protected by the Good Shepherd. But we are also called to be the gate. We are to be the gate that encloses and protects God’s sheep. And we are to be the gateway by which others enter into God’s own flock. We are to be the way by which others enter into salvation.

How are we doing as gates and gateways? Both in our individual lives and as a community? As a gate, are we providing comfort, safety, inclusion for all of God’s sheep who are sent our way? Are we bringing into the fold those who may feel alienated or confused or find themselves lost? Are we reaching out to members of the flock who, for whatever, reason cannot physically be here with us? Are we tending to peoples’ need and fears? And remember the sheepfold was not only a place of safety for individual sheep; it was also a gathering place for the flock, the community. The gate holds the community together. Are we looking beyond our individual desires to work for the gathering and strengthening of the community? As individuals, and as a community, how are we doing as a gate for God’s sheepfold?

And how are we doing as a gateway? How are we doing as an opening through which others may come to know and experience God’s salvation? The remarkable story we heard from Acts this morning tells us one way, at least, we may be a gateway for others to enter into God’s salvation. Stephen is often called the first deacon. He and the others were specifically chosen to lead the "outreach" ministry of the early church. It was their calling, on behalf of the church, to put food on the table of the poor, the widows, the orphans, the marginalized, the hungry. They fed people who were hungry. And the number of the faithful increased greatly in Jerusalem. Evangelism is not always like a debate, where we win others to the faith by incontrovertible argument. For most folk most of the time, evangelism is living our daily lives as the Body of Christ, doing what Christians do. When we live as the Body of Christ, we make God’s love real in the world. If our lives, our deeds shine with the light of Christ, others will come to that light. Others will be drawn through the gateway into God’s salvation.

In the story of the Good Shepherd, we are the sheep. And we are the shepherd whose body is a gate and a gateway. And, if this theory is right, and we really fill all the roles in a dream or story, we are also the thief who comes in to steal and kill and destroy the creatures of God. I wonder if that role really isn’t the easiest to accept, to understand as our own. Our sin is ever before us. But thank God, that is not the only role we play in this story. Remember the final words of this gospel story. "I have come," Jesus says, "so that all may have life, and have it abundantly." In this story, those words are ours to speak and share, and those words are ours to hear. "I have come so that all may have life, and have it abundantly."

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