Every year, the fourth Sunday of Easter is Good Shepherd Sunday, which means I get to consult with Springwater's shepherd, Lynne Deshler. So it was that last week I visited with Lynne and her sheep. Lynne had entered the pasture calling "sheep-sheep," and we were enthusiastically greeted by the lambs, closely attended by their mothers. I had no illusions as to who it was the sheep were happy to see, but it was nice to get some carry-over of that sheep joy. The sheep nuzzled us both (there was some feed involved). Eventually, as the sheep chow ran out, the sheep scattered around the pasture to graze. Silence fell. As Lynne and I talked about why her ram wasn't in the pasture, she called, "sheep-sheep!" and the sheep answered her. The ram wasn't in the pasture for the same reason the religious authorities attacked Jesus in today's gospel reading. Lynne's ram is threatened by her. It's not who Lynne is or what she does, it's who he is. The ram thinks the ewes belong to him and that Lynne threatens his position in the harem. The ram doesn't understand who it is that provides his food, pasture, and harem. And because Lynne offends his sense of self, he attacks her.

But the problem with the ram wasn't what had sent me to Lynne's pasture. The image that had sent me to Lynne's in the first place was in the Revelation reading-the image of the Lamb-who-was-slain who becomes the Shepherd. In John's vision, the Lamb-who-was-slain is the resurrected, ascended-to-heaven Jesus. Apparently, this is a Lamb-a perfect, blemish-free male animal-with a slit throat. It's a gruesome image, and my head just doesn't make that ludicrous leap from Lamb to Shepherd-Lynne's ram notwithstanding. Jesus calls himself the Good Shepherd in John's gospel, but how good a shepherd can he be if he dies?

It's about blood sacrifice theology. Presbyterians don't have much call for blood sacrifice theology. Sure, once a year we have the Roundup, and some of you raise beef cattle, but I can't find a lot of religious implication for what goes on between the feed lot and the dining room table. Lynne made a connection. Have you seen the movie, Cold Mountain? A wounded Confederate soldier, running for his life, is taken in by a mountain woman who gives him shelter and nurses him back to health. It's war, they are isolated, and food is hard to come by, but she raises goats. In one scene she is cradling her prize goat on her lap, caressing him and lovingly whispering that he has been a good goat. That she slits his throat comes as a complete shock. She feeds the soldier and herself, but not without thanking the goat. Every time we eat it's "my life for yours."

When Judaism centered around the Temple, there were two types of blood sacrifice. One type sacrificed a perfect animal, totally consuming it by fire. The other took a perfect animal, ritually killed and then roasted it, sharing in a feast with the priests and worshipers. The Revelation Lamb-that-was-slain is at the center of the martyrs' worship. The martyrs have merged their blood with that of the Lamb, thus completely identifying with the One who gave his life for theirs. My life for yours. My sheep hear my voice.

This is a reach for us. A terrible reach. It sounds too much like what we hear of suicide bombers in the Middle East. But there is a difference. Here, it is definitely the Lamb-who-was-slain who becomes the shepherd. So? Like the martyrs around the throne, we are to identify with the shepherd. Identify with as in, our identity comes from the shepherd, not as in trying to be the Shepherd ourselves, as if we were after some sort of religious job promotion. The point of discipleship isn't upward mobility. In fact, what I read about discipleship is about downward mobility, but that's another sermon.

There is something dysfunctional about religious people who adopt the notion of themselves as the Good Shepherd. Here is where Lynne's ram is a good lesson. A lot of folks might be inclined to do a logic thing here. "If Jesus is your shepherd," and then follows a list of ways we show that Jesus is our Good Shepherd. And that list of ways always turns out to be good discipleship things. So. Since Jesus is your shepherd, take your identity from him, but be a sheep. Know to whom you belong. Like the religious authorities Jesus chided, we keep thinking in terms of promotion, getting ahead. In the normal course of events, sheep do not rise through the ranks to become the shepherd. In terms of our faith lives, we are sheep, defined by our relationship with (and to) our shepherd. Jesus.

Which means that the first thing we need to do is trust the shepherd. It's harder than you think. Otherwise we'd all be better at it than we are. . This is where I sound like that guy who wrote Everything I Needed to Know I Learned in Kindergarten. Think "sheep," think "follow." Believe that the shepherd is not a threat to who you are and where you stand in the community. Believe that the shepherd has a larger view of the circumstances than you and really does have your best interests at heart. Trust the shepherd. Don't follow strangers. This is obvious to a sheep. Lynne's sheep will come from the far ends of earth-as-they-know-it when she calls "sheep-sheep." Lynne's sheep have been listening so intently for her, associating her with everything they need, they recognize her right off. Listen for your name, associate it with good things, so that you are sure to recognize your Good Shepherd calling it, so you don't get confused by the allure of higher credit limits on your Visa card, or the respect of your co-workers or the gratitude of those you help, or greater honors on teams or more prizes at school, or going steady with the person of your dreams. Listen for the Shepherd calling your name, then do what the Shepherd asks of you, and more-receive what the Shepherd gives. Trust.

In terms of how to live in the here and now, bunch up. The first thing sheep do when they feel threatened is to bunch up with the flock. It's a good idea. Secrets and isolation are dangerous. Why do humans hide when we are in trouble? If life is hard and hurts are deep, if situations are not the way they ought to be, get to the faith community. Find other people to pray with. Find other people to read scripture with you. Come to the service for wholeness. Come on Tuesday afternoons to pray. Bunch up. Because of the One who gives us our identity, because we call ourselves "Christian," this flock is our primary flock. For much of our lives, we try to manage our affairs to be in as many flocks as possible. Sports. Volunteer organizations. Service organizations. School groups. Work peers. As Americans our lives are compartmentalized and ruled by our calendars. Monday is one activity, Tuesday is another, Wednesday is a different sport, Thursday is something volunteer, Friday is socializing, Saturday someone has to do the shopping and laundry and cleaning. The only time left for this flock is Sunday. Morning only, because the afternoon is something else again. What if the Good Shepherd treated us that way?

Acknowledge that you need the wise, loving, generous, brave shepherd-all day, every day. Identify with that one Good Shepherd. Identify with your life.