Life in Abundance
Sermon by the Revd Dr Brutus Green
Readings: Acts 2:42-end, Psalm 23, John 10:1-10
I have been reading Psalm 23 often recently. It’s read as a standard part of the funeral service. After the Lord’s Prayer it might be the most well known passage of Scripture. In part I think it’s the pastoral imagery that appeals to the British: Green pastures and still waters are familiar to us, opposed to the deserts and wildernesses that dominate the Bible. There’s no shortage of sheep here – in Wales they outnumber the Welsh 4 to 1, And we’re treating ourselves to lamb for lunch today on that table ‘spread before us’. It’s also a favourite for poets and composers: There’s the well known tune for the Lord’s my shepherd, Then there’s a modern version we’re singing with the children later. The poet George Herbert retranslated it as ‘The King of Love my Shepherd is’, as a good impersonation of Yoda, And of course, it featured as the theme tune for the Vicar of Dibley.
I think part of its beauty is its simplicity. The metaphors are familiar; The shepherd is kind rather than grand; The reward is a massage, a meal and a glass of wine. It could have been written for the people of Putney.
It is grounded. And it’s intriguing it finds its home liturgical in funerals because the literal translation of the last line, ignoring today’s liberal translation is: ‘Let but goodness and kindness pursue me all the days of my life. And I shall dwell in the house of the LORD for many long days.’ Not forever. The psalm is concerned with the here and now. The singer is looking forward to the equivalent of many more barbecues on the lawn of St Margaret’s. Time in the security and peace of our church.
So this psalm, this song, is about happiness in this life. It falls within what’s known as the wisdom tradition, And the basic premise is follow the LORD, love God and your neighbour, and you will have a good life. If we remember that the Hebrew Bible shows very little sense of life after death, this makes sense. Even the line we have earlier, ‘he shall refresh my soul’, is better translated, ‘My life he brings back’ – nefesh (I always think Hebrew sounds a little bit like clingon) nefesh refers to breath and so life – there is no soul/body dualism in Hebrew. On occasion we might think uncomfortably that it strays close to prosperity theology – that God wants you rich: One can imagine David tweeting this song with hashtag-blessed.
But the Hebrew Bible has always had another tradition recognising that the ways of God are inscrutable. Job, perhaps the earliest written of Biblical texts – though no one could speak to the age of the stories themselves – Job gives us the counterpoint where the righteous man suffers terribly, wrestling with God to try to make sense of it.
Christianity is new with its proclamation of eternal life. The early Church almost welcomes suffering, as suffering helps them to identify with Jesus; It is to pass on the same road of discipleship; And as St Paul tells us: ‘we also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts.’
Suffering is not obviously the road to the green pastures and still waters, but it may be the sharpening force to being us to repentance, grace and the life eternal. But perhaps both are more complicated than this. Psalm 23 does not promise a life without suffering; It also speaks to character: ‘my life he brings back’ ‘I walk through the valley of the shadow of death’ There are ‘those who trouble me’, better translated ‘my enemies’. And Christianity has always had one eye on this life, as Christian Aid puts it: ‘we believe in life before death.’
So in today’s Gospel, you might have heard it first as being about salvation. Jesus is ‘the good shepherd’, ‘the door’, Connecting to ‘the way, the truth and the life’ The means of salvation, our path to the Father. But it’s more than that. First of all, the sheep are together. The flocks are mixed up; as was the practice of the day, various shepherds would bring their flocks into safety together in the pen outside a house for shared security. The sheep are living side by side. This isn’t a story of individual salvation. It’s about the flock and who is calling them.
Secondly, the sheep know their master. This recognition is something that is learned. It takes time. These sheep have come to know their shepherd. They recognise him. ‘They will not follow a stranger’. But finally, ‘whoever enters by me will be saved and will come in and go out and find pasture.’ The sheep come and go through this gate, which is Jesus; They go out and find pasture, and then they come back.
Jesus is speaking about now. He’s kind of speaking about church. It’s not that we will pass through some pearly gate to be admitted to the Good place. But as we come and go in Jesus, we will find that pleasant pasture; We may have life, and have it abundantly. That doesn’t mean that the Gospel is all about this life. It means that eternity starts now. Eternity is present in every moment. As Blake talked about ‘a World in a Grain of Sand/ Hold[ing] infinity in the palm of your hand’
As we may have known time stop in love and grief; Jesus is saying that it is possible to seize the eternal right now; To discover the eternal truths of love, beauty and peace now; To own the simplicity of selflessness now; To find the love of the world rooted in your affections and actions. To forget yourself. This Gospel is really about the Church. It is about the life of the church today. Are we passing through the gate of Christ? Are we finding those green pastures? Do we have life, and have it abundantly?
That is what I want. There’s nothing more appalling to me than church controversies. And even in this current crisis I have endured the bickering of friends and colleagues appalled by the Archbishops saying vicars can’t use churches for streamed services. Personally, I will be quite happy that we return to St Margaret’s together. But what concerns me is that we’re coming and going in Christ. That we’re finding the green pastures. That we have life, and that we’re people who give life, abundantly.
In our reading from Acts we hear of how they distributed their possessions to all, as many as had need. They spent time together in prayer. They ate with glad and generous hearts. And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved. Do you know, for the first time, every day, people are gathering online with Anne and I to pray. Every day I get donations of food from people across Putney. Every day we give out food. There is a generosity alive today that has not been seen in 75 years. We might be trapped at home, But I feel we are more and more passing through that gate. I see the call of the Good Shepherd to love thy neighbour taken up by those you wouldn’t expect. People keep saying that the world has changed and there is no going back. I’m not sure we believe it yet.
But St Margaret’s has changed. We have taken on new responsibilities and we will not forget them. We have found new ways of reaching people, and we will not abandon them. We have made new friends and we will cherish them. In Putney we are the lucky ones. We live by green pastures and still waters. On a good day, we might still get a decent meal and a glass of wine, though we might have to wait a little longer for the massage. But perhaps the new quiet of this lockdown will enable us to hear the voice of the Good shepherd a little more clearly. Perhaps without cars and commuting we will find the gate for the sheep. Perhaps now we will distribute to those who have need, being glad with generous hearts. Perhaps now is the moment we will come to have life and have it abundantly. Amen.