Easter 4

Despite the fact that we live frantic, hectic, on-the-road lives, it’s still true that the greatest number of injuries and accidents occur in the home. Similarly, most car wrecks occur when we are within five miles of home. (Never decide not to fasten your seat belt because you’re “just going around the corner.” Statistically, that’s the most dangerous trip you ever make!) Tragically, we’re far more likely to meet a violent death at the hands of someone we know, especially a family member, than we are to be killed by an unknown assailant. It seems we continue to be our own worst enemies.

Maybe the ancient Israelites recognized this persistent self-destructive tendency more clearly than have other societies. Hebrew culture continually and unflinchingly characterized itself as “sheep” in constant need of a shepherd.

Every culture has its own mythical image of itself, usually drawn from some romantic past. Thus the bland, boiled-meat British will always be the noble knight-philosophers of the Round Table; the pale, cold-fish Scandinavians are secretly blood-thirsty Vikings; and the suburban couch-potato American is the eternal free-spirited cowboy. But no one except the Israelites voluntarily calls attention to the woolly coats and cloven hooves that reveal our true identity: Sheep.

One of the reasons sheep so desperately need a keeper is that after centuries of domesticated herd life they have lost the instincts they once had to defend themselves. When a wolf, or a coyote, or a dog, gets into the flock, a sheep is incapable of mounting any kind of defense – either singly or as a group.

Some sheepherders have recently tried to give these poor animals some help by mixing a few llamas or alpacas in with their flocks of sheep. The tougher, more combative llamas and alpacas will face adversaries when threatened, form protective circles around their young, or at the very least run away from danger instead of rushing right into its midst.

By admitting they were sheep, the Israelites also proclaimed their dependence on a good shepherd, a leader who could protect them from the dangers around them and – more to the point of today’s Gospel – who could protect them from themselves. The shepherd’s job is to keep the predators, wolves, thieves and bandits away from the flock. It is not the job of the flock (as dense and defenseless sheep) to organize an attack against these marauding forces. Sheep should do what sheep do best – stay close by their shepherd, remaining under the shadow of his protection.

But for 21st-century postmodern “sheep” such as us, that attitude presents a problem. We don’t like to think of ourselves as dependent on anyone or anything else for protection. We’re cowboys, remember – not sheep! When danger comes knocking on our door, it is not in our nature to stand back and let a protector answer it for us.

Our sheep-like, self-destructive spiritual nature prompts three typical “bad calls” from us whenever Satan comes knocking at our door. Even though Jesus our Good Shepherd is standing nearby, ready to lay down his life for us, our do-it-yourself attitude prompts us to deal with the devil in our own way. There are the Spiritual Adverts, the Spiritual Inverts, and the Spiritual Perverts.

First, Spiritual Adverts. The spiritual advert hears evil pounding on the front door and calls out to the good shepherd standing nearby, “Don’t worry, Lord, I won’t let him in – but let’s not upset him by throwing him off the doorstep either.” Later, the advert sneaks up to the keyhole and whispers to the evil influences lurking on the other side – “Come on around to the back door and I’ll let you in.”

The advert alludes to faithfulness and appears to be a member in good standing of the good shepherd’s flock. But the advert is actually playing both sides of the field. Spiritual adverts subvert the good shepherd’s presence by actively inviting the wolf into the fold.

There is usually at least one advert in every group. Adverts seem to relish letting a spirit of discord and distrust loose among others. Spiritual adverts take pleasure in sprinkling ashes on everyone’s ice cream.

Second, there are the Spiritual Inverts. Thankfully, few of us are bold enough or belligerent enough to be adverts. But far more of us fit quite nicely into the category of spiritual inverts. When the devil knocks on their doors, inverts neither answer the door nor invite Jesus the good shepherd to get it for them. Inverts hear the knock but then start vacillating, “I didn’t really hear anything … well, maybe I did hear something … Nope, no one could be there … Perhaps I’ll just check again….”

Inverts refuse to make decisions about what to do with the devil lurking on the porch. Spiritual inverts can’t seem to go ahead and hand the responsibility over to Jesus for him to deal with the situation. But inverts also can’t get up the nerve to do anything, positive or negative, about the threat.

The Bible has a special distaste for such wishy-washy, mealy-mouthed, spiritually inverted fence-sitters. It calls them “lukewarm,” and counsels decisively to spit them out. Two of the best-known spiritual inverts are Nicodemus and the “rich, young ruler.” Both of these familiar figures were drawn to Jesus, spoke with Jesus at length, and recognized truth in Jesus’ words and power in Jesus’ presence. But neither Nicodemus nor the rich young ruler could hand Jesus their hearts. They could see in Jesus the Good Shepherd. Yet they still clung to the hope that maybe they could make it without a shepherd after all.

Religion back on the American frontier was a rough and rugged phenomenon. When The Rev. Jack Porter asked the blessing at one family’s meal, the host’s 10-year-old nephew was astounded.

The next day, when the lad saw the preacher walk down the street, he rushed up to him and asked, “Are you the preacher who talks to the plate?” How many of our prayers are but “talking to our plate”?

Third, there are the Spiritual Perverts. The spiritual perverts don’t hesitate a bit when the devil comes knocking at their doors. “Don’t worry about that knock, Lord,” they call out to the good shepherd. “It’s for me.” Spiritual perverts, either out of maliciousness or sometimes simple foolishness, welcome Satan right in the front door. Perverts can be as obvious and twisted as Ku Klux Klan white supremacists who claim divine sanction for their hatred.

But the devil is a funny guy and realizes that sometimes the best way to badmouth goodness is not to oppose it with evil, but to make it look stupid. Several years ago, the Louisiana State Police pursued a car in downtown Vinton. The vehicle, a 1990 Pontiac Grand Am, hit a tree at the baseball park at the end of town. Fifteen adults piled out of the car. Five children were in the trunk. They were all completely nude. All 20 of them. Not wearing a stitch of clothing. These bare Pentecostals climbed out and began chanting various religious-sounding ditties. The stunned police officers eventually were told that the group had stripped naked because “their clothes were possessed by the devil.”

Sure, we all laugh at such loony behavior – but every time a story like that hits the news, the devil smirks too. Making the name of the Lord look bad is good for Satan’s business. Spiritual perverts can convince others that Jesus is a joke, that only the foolish are faithful.

How should we respond to the devil knocking at the door? Be a Spiritual Convert. Knowing that a sheep is no match for a wolf, the spiritual convert invites the good shepherd to do his job. And when the devil knocks, the convert says, “Lord, would you mind getting that?”