I was on the phone with one of my grandmas the other day, and throughout the whole conversation, my grandma would return to a phrase as if it was her mantra. She would start talking about something happening in her town, or something happening across the country, and then she would stop herself and say, “Well, I have too many thoughts on that, so if I talk too much, I’ll get myself in trouble.”
There was a new building going up in town, and she thought it was not inclusive of everyone. So she said, “if I say too much, I’ll get myself in trouble.”
She was talking about a loved one she had been in conversation with, and they said something she did not agree with. She started to respond, and then stopped herself: “I’ll get myself in trouble.”
Then she started talking about politicians and the way they treat each other, and the way they stir up animosity in the country, and the damage that kind of leadership does to ordinary people, and she caught herself again with that same line: “But if I say that, I’ll get myself in trouble.”
And if you are wondering where I get it from, the saying something and getting myself in trouble, well there you go. Thanks, Grandma!
But then, in that same conversation, my grandma started reflecting on the speech she gave at her high school graduation, which first of all, I think is incredible. She said that in her speech she quoted President Herbert Hoover: “Older men declare war. But it is youth that must fight and die. And it is youth who must inherit the tribulation, the sorrow, and the triumphs that are the aftermath of war.”
My Grandma understood, as a teenager and now as a Saint quite advanced in her years, when leadership fails, other people bear the cost. When those in power act out of ego or self-preservation, it is almost never them who pay the cost. It is ordinary people who are vulnerable and young and who carry the least power in the room. Failed leadership always has a way of making someone else carry the wound.
When Jesus begins speaking about shepherds and gates, thieves and bandits; he is naming the difference between leadership that devours and leadership that protects. He is naming the difference between voices that threaten and a voice that leads toward life.
John 10 actually begins with Jesus saying, “Very truly, I tell you,” So immediately we have to look at the passage before it.
And when we do that here, we find ourselves in the aftermath of conflict. In John 9, Jesus healed a man born blind. But what should have been received as good news becomes a crisis for the people in charge. The man tells the truth about what has happened to him, his parents are questioned, the authorities become defensive, and by the end of it all, the man born blind, now healed, is cast out.
That means the setting for John 10 is in the aftermath of exclusion. A man is now standing outside the boundaries of belonging because those in power drove him out. Jesus is now speaking to the conflict that has just unfolded. He says that anyone who does not enter the sheepfold by the gate, but climbs in by another way, is a thief and a bandit. Jesus is setting two forms of leadership beside one another. One comes openly and rightly, with recognition and trust. The other comes by intrusion and by the desire to gain power without any real relationship to the flock. In other words, Jesus is describing who he is and exposing the character of those who would claim authority but don’t actually love the people in their care.
The Shepherd is recognized by the gatekeeper, the sheep hear the Shepherd’s voice, and The Shepherd calls the sheep by name and leads them out. What marks the true Shepherd is relationship with the flock. Jesus is the Shepherd whose voice is familiar enough to be trusted and whose care is personal enough that the sheep are called by name.
That matters even more when we remember the man born blind was exiled because Jesus’ healing of him made the leaders more determined to preserve themselves and their power.
Then the Gospel of John tells us that those listening did not understand what Jesus was saying to them, so Jesus continues: “Very truly, I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep.”
Jesus as the Gate. The word “gate” can sound harsh to us. It can suggest exclusion or narrowness or a line drawn between people who are in and people who are out. We know those gates well enough. We live in a world trapped by those gates of exclusion.
But Jesus does not describe himself as that kind of gate. He says that whoever enters by him will be saved and will come in and go out and find pasture.
Jesus offers the path that leads to freedom. The sheep are not locked away from life. They are protected and cared for precisely so that they may live it. They come in, and they go out. They find pasture. They are held within the care of one who does not abandon them to danger.
And then Jesus continues his response with, “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.”
While the thief takes life, Jesus has his purpose rooted in the gift of life. And not merely life in the smallest possible sense, but life abundant.
Now once again, that word “abundant” might also be swallowed by the logic of our culture and make us think that abundance always means excess, comfort, or power. But that is not how Jesus is speaking here, especially not in this Gospel and especially not in this moment. He is not promising a life untouched by grief or conflict but he is speaking about life in communion with God. A life that is no longer ruled by terror, falsehood, exclusion, or death. A life of abundance looks very much like what the man born blind received and what the leaders around him tried to take away again: dignity, truth, restoration, belonging, freedom.
That is why Jesus’ promise carries such weight here. Following someone being cast out of the community, Jesus describes himself as both the Shepherd and the Gate, the one who leads and opens, so that all may find abundant life with and through him in community.
And that wider promise is part of what makes our second text worth approaching so carefully, because 1 Peter also speaks of Christ as Shepherd, but it does so from within the reality of suffering.
Our second text, from 1 Peter, requires a great deal of care, because it can wound rather than heal. Passages like this one have used across generations to tell suffering people to stay quiet and endure harm. Verse 18, right before the passage we read, shows this message is specifically addressed to slaves. Not their masters but to the slaves. So whatever we say about this text, we have to say clearly that this passage does not say that wounded people should keep offering themselves up to systems and relationships that are destroying them. It didn’t say it then and it doesn’t say that now.
But if we listen to this passage through the lens of Christ, it is bearing witness to the one who, when abused, did not become abuse; when suffered did not respond with his own acts of cruelty; and when he was wounded by the powers of the world, he did not let those powers diminish him. This is a picture of Christ’s steadfastness in the face of pain. Our own Shepherd knows what is to be rejected, abused, exiled, and put to death. And yet, Christ entrusts himself to God and steps into that pain for our sake. The Shepherd holds close those who have been scattered and hurt by false, exclusionary leadership as Christ himself was a victim to this same leadership. And in response, as Christ holds them close, he leads them home to a place where their lives are given protection and abundance. We belong to the Shepherd who does not lose us nor ever leaves us.
But I do wonder: if we are the flock, do we echo the voice of the Shepherd? As Jesus continues his response to the leaders, after our select verses for today, he tells them there are others who do not belong to the flock but that Jesus WILL find them and bring them in. As disciples of Christ, our role is to follow the teachings of our Shepherd. Are the people we encounter given the mercy of Christ? Do we offer grace and forgiveness? Do we make room for dignity and life in all people? Or are we just creating more gates of exclusion? Because if Christ came so that people may have life abundantly, then the church cannot be content with any version of itself or leadership that leaves people more afraid or more ashamed, or really, less alive, than when they came through the door.
We are called to be a people whose life together sounds like the Shepherd’s voice; a voice that offers protection and life. To follow the Good Shepherd is to become a people who know the difference between what steals life and what gives it, and then to shape our life together accordingly. An abundant life together.
This is the promise we are invited to trust. The gate is still open, and the shepherd is still calling. You know, for everything Jesus said, I’m sure he got himself in a lot of trouble. He must have had a Grandma like mine. Or maybe my Grandma is very much like the Shepherd she follows. Because in John 9, after the man born blind, now healed, is cast out; Jesus goes searching for him to bring him back. And he does. The life Christ gives, life in the presence of God – the life Christ gives is life when God’s people, especially the wounded, are gathered and loved.
In a world of thieves and bandits, we still belong to a shepherd who knows us, seeks us out, protects us, and leads us toward life. And that life is not small or diminished. It is beautiful and holy, loving and abundant. And even now, Christ is still leading his people into it.
All glory and praise to our Shepherd, Gate, and Life.
Amen.