Acts 2:42-47 John 10:1-10
There wasn’t a lot of children’s programming on TV when I was young, but there were a few shows and we tended to love them indiscriminately. I mean, back in those days, anything that was made just for kids – that was special. But for a while when I was very small, the show I loved most was Romper Room. I planted myself on the floor in front of the TV every day to watch Miss Beverly and the lucky children who got to play with her in her TV classroom. I was so jealous of them. I adored Miss Beverly – she was pretty and kind. Her classroom was fun. I loved everything about Romper Room. But the moment Miss Beverly picked up her magic mirror at the end of the show was, without fail, a moment of preschool angst for me. Because here’s what would happen.
She would begin to name all the children watching at home whom she could see through her magic mirror: Bobby and Cathy and Barbara and Jimmy, Lucy and Davy and Billy and Nancy, and on and on. Every day I sat holding my breath waiting for her to see me, but she never saw me. Maggie. Every day I waited in hope. Every day I was tragically disappointed.
If Miss Beverly had said my name just once, I would have pledged myself to her for eternity. But, alas, she never saw me. She never knew me.
And that’s sad. It’s just nice when they know your name.
I think it’s fair to say that knowing someone, really knowing them, involves at the very least knowing their name. That’s where we usually begin. It means something to us, when someone remembers our name.
The shepherd, Jesus says, knows his sheep and calls them by their names. And they follow him because they know the voice of their shepherd when he calls their names. He knows their names and they know his voice. Just as Mary Magdalene knew the voice of Jesus when she heard him call her name in the garden.
He knows our names, too, and cares for us as his own. Whether it is as the shepherd, as he says further down in the chapter, or the sheepfold gate, as he says in verse 7, it is clear that Jesus is identifying himself as the one who watches over us. He is the one who is strong enough to protect, the one who cares enough to save us. Jesus can be trusted to guide us in and out of the sheepfold. In our coming and our going, we may rely on the one who would lay down his life for us.
This is the gospel message: we have a savior who knows us because he chooses to know us; he loves us enough to suffer on our behalf for the sin of the world so we may have life, and life abundant. He knows our names.
It gives us comfort to know that we have a good shepherd watching over us. But, just like the little boy who was frightened by a thunderstorm one night – his father reassured him saying Jesus is right beside you. But the boy said, “I know, but daddy, I need Jesus with skin on!” We need the warmth, the firmness, the tenderness of flesh and blood companions who care for us.e
I know Jesus loves me and Jesus saves me. I have known it since I was very young. But sometimes I am more concerned about whether there are people who know me, love me, care for me, and are willing to protect me if need be. I know I have a friend in Jesus – I have always known this. But sometimes I am more concerned about how many true friends I have in Jesus’ church. And what’s more, I am concerned about whether my love is great enough to be a faithful friend in Christ’s name – a friend to my brothers and sisters in Christ, as well as those who are outside the sheepfold.
I am concerned that we may rest too comfortably in the knowledge of Christ’s saving love and let it go at that. The hard truth is that there is nothing Christ did for us that he does not also ask us to do for others.
As followers of Christ we must ask ourselves how well we are doing at providing this kind of love and care to others. Do we know one another’s names? and their needs? Jesus assured his followers and even those who didn’t follow him that he will know them and care for them individually. But Jesus needs us to do that.
How are we doing at the shepherding? And just as much, how are we managing the sheepfold gate? Jesus says I am the gate and whoever enters by me will be saved. Are we opening the gate to those who need comfort, who are seeking pasture?
Everybody in this world needs that – comfort, belonging. Every one of us needs to have that feeling that we are all in this together, living the life we have been given, taking turns holding one another up when we need to borrow some strength. Everyone in this world needs to have a place of safety, a sheepfold where somebody knows their name and cares about who they are.
Everybody needs somebody to trust. Are we willing to be that somebody? to earn their trust? Are we willing to love them unconditionally, showing them the grace of God and the care of the Good Shepherd? Do we care enough about them to learn their names and their stories? Are we willing to watch over them and protect them from harm?
You know, in the story from Acts we heard that the earliest disciples devoted themselves to learning and fellowship, the breaking of bread and prayer. How are we doing at that? the basic acts of being church?
These days, our forced quarantine makes it harder – to be church in the ways we know. But I read an interesting bit of information last week. The Pew Research Center finds that people are saying that since this pandemic began, their faith is growing. So how are we living that stronger, deeper faith? And how will that make it different when we come back together again?
And when we come back together again, will we manage the sheepfold gate with generosity and love?
Christ offers himself as the good shepherd and the gate. He lays down his life for us and everyone else. He calls us by name, and he expects us to be able to do the same. Let us follow in Christ’s example for this world, to know one another by name and watch over one another in his name.
