Matt Chandler - The Good Shepherd

Hey, if you have your Bibles, go ahead and grab those. We’re going to be in John chapter 10. If you don’t have a Bible with you, there should be a black hardback one somewhere around you. If you don’t own one, that’s our gift to you. So, we are in week five of the «I Am» series. Essentially, what we’ve done is take the seven «I Am» statements in the Gospel of John, using this opportunity not so much to discuss what Jesus has done, but rather to look at who Jesus is. In week one, we demonstrated from the Scriptures that the Bible’s quite clear: transformation occurs not because we stare at our own shortcomings and become experts in where we’re weak and strong, but by gazing, by beholding, and by looking at Jesus. We’re transformed from one degree of glory to the next. That’s what we’ve been doing for the last five weeks—trying to, as the writer of Hebrews said, fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith. This is who Jesus is, what Jesus is about, and why Jesus came.

Now, this week we land in John 10 on «I am the Good Shepherd.» How many of you have a church background? If you don’t, you shouldn’t be embarrassed. You might even have a leg up. If you do have a church background, here’s how you’ve typically heard about Jesus being the Good Shepherd: Historically, people often discuss how dumb sheep are. Amen, church folks? If you’ve heard about Jesus as the Good Shepherd, someone’s looked it up, researched the characteristics of sheep, and come back to explain that without a shepherd, sheep often find themselves in serious trouble. While I don’t disagree with that observation, I prefer to stay tethered to the text. The emphasis of the text isn’t the sheep’s stupidity, but rather the love of the shepherd.

Maybe you’ve heard before that sheep are, in fact, not very smart. I don’t own any, so I can’t say from firsthand experience, but it is true that if you put sheep in a pasture and let them graze, they will eat all the grass in the area and won’t venture to find more. They might even resort to eating one another’s excrement, leading to their demise, all while there’s good grass just across the way. They need someone to lead them. Additionally, we note that a good shepherd, if a sheep keeps going astray, will break the legs of that sheep, carry it on his shoulders until it heals, and for the rest of the sheep’s life, it will stay close to the shepherd. Isn’t that remarkable? I don’t want my legs broken, but that is pretty cool, right?

I saw that this week in some notes and thought, «Okay, Lord, don’t break my legs; I want to stay close.» So, that’s not a bad way to approach the idea of Jesus as the Good Shepherd. He even leads us to green pastures and makes us lie down in them, as we see in the 23rd Psalm. He will even «break our legs,» so to speak, if we keep wandering out into danger. I believe those things are true, good, and beautiful. Nevertheless, the emphasis regarding the Good Shepherd is not on the stupidity of the sheep but on the love of the shepherd. I am eager to celebrate with you God’s deep and abiding care for us in Jesus Christ because it can be hard for us to believe He feels the way He does about us.

So, we’re going to be in John 10 and will start in verse 10 and read through verse 16. If you don’t mind, will you stand as I read the Word of God over us? It’s not magical or anything—it’s just a way to honor the reality that the God of the universe has spoken to His people in Christ and in His Word. Here’s what Jesus teaches in John 10:1-16: «The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they might have life and have it abundantly.» Here’s the «I Am» statement: «I am the Good Shepherd. The Good Shepherd lays down His life for the sheep. He who is a hired hand and not a shepherd, who does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and flees; the wolf snatches them and scatters them. He flees because he is a hired hand and cares nothing for the sheep. Here it is again: I am the Good Shepherd. I know my own.»