12-13-09 “The Shepherd’s Way Home”

Imagine one listening in that crowd around John the Baptist.

His is one of the oldest professions in the world,

a shepherd.

Like Abel, Adam and Eve’s second born,

the first slaughtered,

by his firstborn farming brother.

His father trusts him,

that’s why he’s put in charge of the valuable flocks,

flocks that provide wool for homes and trade, clothing, milk, meat,

dung for fuel, hides for scrolls.

Little economic engines bleating all over the hills of Galilee.

Was he lured in by the urgency of John’s words,

the intensity of the crowd’s listening,

Had he ever been part of a group of people so transfixed in listening?

At first, perhaps the people appeared almost smug,

people in the know,

hearing what they expected.

“Children of Abraham,” calling out

“tell us a story, John, tell us what God will do for us.”

But the story John told came with a twist,

a love story, yes,

but barked back with a bite.

“Who do you think you are?

You think that because your ancestors followed the Good Shepherd

you can wander anywhere you want and call for room service?”

(My imaging works in Twenty first century vocabulary).

God doesn’t deliver on demand.

Why, If you disappeared,

God could raise a new flock right out of those rocks under your feet.” You tie your lives in knots

and yell at God for not untying them,

WHO –DO- YOU- THINK- YOU- ARE?”

John seemed to reach into their lives, to know their thoughts, their past,

to grab their every need in his fists.

His words reaching an impassioned edge,

straining against the limits of civil discourse,

but held in check by a rein of love.

“What then should we do?” murmured through the crowd,

“what should we do?”

John’s prophetic words tumbled over and through them,

Prophetic words, harvested from his people’s history,

The shepherd might have remembered that long age,

Moses,

who spent his exile as a shepherd,

used those skills to lead his people like a flock through the wilderness, traveling at the pace demanding by real sheep.

They couldn’t leave them behind.

they’d need them in a new home, in the new land.

He might have remembered

David,

The shepherd boy turned king

who forgot the needs of his flock

and had to be called back to accountability by God’s prophet, Nathan.

A shepherd’s responsibility is to protect the sheep,

not become a wolf among them.

David fell and fell hard

And yet, when he heard the word of the LORD,

What should I do LORD, what should I do,

remembered who he was, whose he was, and found his way home.

This shepherd, listening to John,

was taking quite a chance,

leaving his flock on their own while he followed the mesmerized crowd,

gripped by the hold John’s words had on his audience.

Those words carried an urgency

on which seemed to hang the balance of the world.

“What should we do? What then should we do?”

Looking at each other in confusion, looking at John for guidance,

This shepherd heard the people on all sides ask, “What should we do? “

John’s answer, “You know what to do. Take care of each other.

If one of you needs a coat and one of you has two coats, you know what to do. If one of you has food and others are hungry, you know what to do. Do everything in your power to take care of each other.

“Take care of each other as well as, or better than,

you steward your flocks, your business, your households.”

John’s eyes met each person in the crowd, one by one by one, each man, each woman. When he looked into the young shepherd’s eyes, it was as though his own brother was looking at him.

Did John say it out loud, or did his own mind supply the words,

When was the last time he talked, really talked to his brother,

in the way that lets each other know what your life is about,

what you really need?

And why had he hidden that extra loaf of bread last week

when the scroungey looking fellow ambled down the road,

looking hopefully his way?

The shepherd knew what it felt like to be hungry,

but he also knew he’d never starve. He was part of a family.

All he had to do, whether it was near or far, was go home.

He heard others begging John,

each voice more desperate for relief than the last.

He heard the tax collectors ask, “what should we do?”

Johns’ answer, “You know what you should do. Collect just what those folks really owe, their fair share, no more.”

He heard soldiers, soldiers (!) ask like little children, “What do we do? What should we do?”

John’s answer, “You know what to do. Don’t misuse your power on those you are to protect. Don’t coerce them.

Don’t extort money from them, for God’s sake!

Don’t accuse them of things you know they didn’t do,

just to make your job easier or entertaining.”

He watched the soldiers,

Roman soldiers,

Israeli Soldiers,

temple guards,

shake their heads as if coming out of a deep sleep,

look around at the everyday people all around them,

see the people’s faces as if for the first time.

Sheep go astray. They wander. They follow false trails.

When they realize they are lost, they call for their keeper.

When they hear his voice, then they know they are home.

“What should we do, what should we do?”

Should we follow you, John?

Their voices turned to expectation, to hope.

“No, not me, watch for the one who is coming after me.”

He seemed on the verge of adding, “idiots,”

but something, someone (?), who he stopped and listened to,

gentled him, like a sheep being coaxed into the fold.

Might this shepherd who we are imagining

have heard strange rumors when he was a child in Bethlehem,

the shepherds’ town, the little city of David.?

Strange rumors of shepherds, who’d seen angels,

and heard songs in the heavens, a cosmic symphony of praise.

Sheep go astray.

He was startled to remember his own flock, those in his own keeping.

What is a man?

So much of what we are is determined by the responsibilities we accept, the responsibilities put in our keeping.

We are given the power to lead and care for,

and we are given the power to choose who to follow,

who to be cared for by.

The Good Shepherd led him home to who he was, a keeper of flocks.

…led him home to who he was, kept in the heart of the Good Shepherd.

This is how we prepare, this is the Good News, John said,

and the shepherd heard that there is a way home.

With the multitudes that day, he went down to the river

and was baptized by John, turned around, washed clean, dunked down, and came up with a gasp of recognition. “God, you are my God,

I make my home in you,

I look for your redeemer’s coming to be my Shepherd”

And he went back to his flock, patting them and calling them, each of them, one by one, and went back into the hills. As he passed others in the human flock around him he saw others of the same household of God, going back to the work God gave them, but expecting that nothing would be the same.

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New Interpreter’s Bible Dictionary, “Sheep,” “Shepherd”

Anchor Bible Dictionary Volume 5, “Sheep, Shepherd,” Jack W. Vancil.

Two Parents Talk

Oh, it is so wonderful to be able to speak again. So much has happened that needs to be be told.
Where to begin?
I'm Zechariah, of the house of Abi-jah. My name means, "Yahweh remembers."
I have worked hard to keep the commandments and ordinances of the LORD and am recognized as a priest in our small town, though I sometimes forget myself. I'm not needed at the temple in Jerusalem very often.
My fine wife, Elizabeth, and I have been blessed with a comfortable life and many friends.
I had become content in my life...
but not fulfilled.
One thing was missing.
ELizabeth and I had no children.
Noone to continue my family name.
We had wished for a child, perhaps even a son, for so long without success. I had given up.
Now we were old with no chance for a child.
It should have been enough to be contented without being fulfilled.

I'd given up, tried to be content with supporting my husband, Zechariah, and helping our friends and neighbors with their children. I love children and there are lots of them in our little hill country village. I would offer to help any way I could.

I was everybody's favorite "aunt,"

and later, surrogate grandmother.

There were always plenty of children around.

But it was hard to shake off the longing for my own.

Nothing quite filled that empty spot.

I knew it was no longer possible to have a child.

I was too old.

But hope is a hard thing to give up.

My husband didn't blame me. I didn't blame him.

We have both tried our very best to follow the LORD's ways.

Our people call us "righteous," "blameless," and see no reason why the LORD should punish us with this barrenness. The LORD's ways are indeed mysterious.

Oh, it is SO wonderful to be able to speak again!

All things are possible in the LORD.

Almost a year ago, when I made one of my bi-annual trips to the temple in Jerusalem, I was honored to tend the incense and give the blessing to the congregation. This is no small honor! There are many priests and everyone wants to serve. But I was chosen, by lot, as is the custom. When I entered the inner sanctuary to offer prayers and tend the incense, an angel appeared.

I was afraid.

You would have been too. When's the last time YOU met with an angel?

But the angel said, "fear not. our prayers have been answered. Elizabeth will bear you a son and you will call him, John."

That WAS my prayer, but I still said, "how can this be? We are too old to have a child."

The angel replied, "I am Gabriel, sent by the LORD with this good news. Because you doubt my words, and as proof of what I say, you will be unable to speak until what I have foretold has come to pass."

And that was that!

When I left the inner sanctuary, I was unable to give the blessing.

Everyone knew that something very unusual had happened.

When Zechariah went to Jerusalem for his regular service in the temple, I stayed behind. I'd been there before. I'd stopped seeking miracles, or offering sacrifices in hopes that the LORD might hear my need and send a child.

I didn't hear, or see, the messenger.

My husband did.

He came back from the temple utterly unable to speak.

Had he had a stroke?

He wrote down what had happened and I tried to make sense of it.

It seemed he'd lost his mind.

Perhaps the child I'd finally care for would be my old husband.

It wasn't until I felt the stirring in my belly that I began to understand what was going on.

"Fear not."

Easy for you to say.

I had no chance to ask the LORD's messenger the questions tumbling in my mind.

How is this possible?

Why now, after so many years?

What is this child to become?

Will I have the energy, even live long enough, to raise him?

Have I said how wonderful it is to be able to speak again?

It happened just as Gabriel said.

Shortly after I returned home from the temple, Elizabeth became pregnant.

Wonder of wonders! How we had longer for this.

But I could not speak my joy.

For the next nine months I went about my business silently.

Finally, the day arrived. Elizabeth gave birth to our son.

What a wonderful time!

For eight days and nights our family and many friends rejoiced with us at this blessing from God. One the eight day, when our son was to be circumcised, named and officially welcomed into our community, they all asked Elizabeth, "and will he be named Zechariah as is our custom?"

But she answered, "no."

So they brought me a writing tablet and asked me to confirm his name.

I wrote, "His name is John."

Immediately my speech was restored.

Now I could explain what had happened in the temple.

All our family and friends wondered at these events. What could it mean for our son's future?

People were worried when I withdrew for those five months.

I can't even say why I did.

I was in such a strange surreal place. Time stopped for me.

With Zechariah's silence, the world seemed hushed.

My people don't hide pregnancy. Some said I was afraid I'd lose the baby and wanted to keep it secret. But I wasn't afraid. Some said I didn't believe it was real. Others said I was afraid people would make fun of me, pregnant at my age. But I have a pretty good sense of humor.

It WAS ridiculous!

I think that maybe God wanted Mary to be the first woman I shared the experience with.

The Holy Spirit that filled the baby in my womb overflowed and filled me as well. My own unborn child swept me up in his recognition of who stood before me. Womb to womb, we met, swollen with the new thing God was doing, leaking tears of joy.

God's mercy is tender indeed.

When the baby was born those other young women, the ones I'd helped through childbirth, helped me. It was as though my own daughters were taking care of me as I finally gave birth. So topsey-turvey, the young leading the old! Their strong hands and gentle words of encouragement made it so much easier. All night long they rubbed my back, sang, and shared their wisdom.

So, what is the future for our son?

The name "John" means "God shows favor."

He certainly did for Elizabeth and me!

But I worry about being able to provide a proper upbringing for John. Elizabeth and I are old.

Will we have the energy and wisdom to raise him well? Gabriel said,

"...for he will be great before the LORD,

and he shall drink no wine nor strong drink,

and he shall be filled with the Holy Spirit,

even from his mother's womb.

And he will turn many of the sons of Israel to the LORD their God,

and he will go before him in the spirit and power of Eli-jah,

to turn the hearts of the fathers to the chidren,

and the disobedient to the wisdom of the just,

to make ready for the LORD, a people prepared."

With God's favor, it shall be so. YAHWEH remembers.

It was the eight day after the baby's birth.

He was healthy, he was vigorous,

and it was time for him to take his place in our community.

Everyone was beside themselves with joy.

I have never felt so loved.

We were bathed in our neighbor's good wishes as they came to perform the circumcision

and name the child.

We'll give him his father's name, Zachariah, they said.

From the corner of my eye I saw Zechariah gesturing, no, no.

Then one of the strangest things in this whole extraordinary experience happened.

I'd never known anything so clearly in my life, without knowing why I knew it!

I said loud and clear, his name is John."

I do't think anyone had ever heard me speak so forcefully before!

Zechariah leaned back and smiled.

I wonder about the future, his, but also all the other children.

Will this passion for justice, and independence to worship,

this urge to be a nation,

carry them closer to the LORD's ways

or sweep them up in the old human ways of manipulation and violence?

My ancestor, Aaron, was his brother Moses' right hand man. Now it seems my son will serve his cousin as they go about God's work. Me son will be remembered as part of his cousin's story, not as "the one" but as he who prepares the way.

I hope he will do it well.

How will I prepare him for this?

The messenger said that his mind must remain clear.

Luke 3: 1-6

Dialogue by Doug Riley (Zechariah) and Karen Munson (Elizabeth)