
A reflection for Sunday 30th of Janaury
There are a couple of luscious things we are going to do today. First we are going to baptise Amy and her son Clayton. They have always been welcome here but today we formalise that connection and relationship and we look forward to enjoying them as they look forward to enjoying us. The other luscious thing today is that we are blessing and dedicating the lovely stain glass window of The Good Shepherd given in memory of Ann Sandison. It is a flock that is made up of people like Amy, Clayton who we can see and like Ann Sandison, who while we cannot see her any longer, still enjoy the benefit of her prayers as we journey on.
This burgeoning flock of people, you and I, are sinners and saints all at the one time. We wander off sometimes and we are called back. We jump around in jubilation and go to parties but there are also nights when it is pretty dark and chilly. But no matter the climate or the occasion, we have The Good Shepherd who is the solitary, stable, reliable constant. In the window there is a tender sense of intimacy front and centre. Jesus the good Shepherd holds a lamb close to him and there is a pet lamb at Jesus feet. This pet sheep looks at us, almost as if to say ‘Come on, this guy can be trusted. He’s looked after me and there is nothing better than being best buddies with the reliable, dependable shepherd.’ By looking straight out at us, the sheep offers us, challenges us with an invitation to a living, vibrant, working, enjoyable relationship with Jesus the Good shepherd.
Today's 2nd lesson gives us the guidelines for this pilgrimage, this relationship of love. It’s the one that is often used at weddings and everyone thinks it is gooey and easy. But it ain’t.
Listen closely.
Love is patient; love is kind;
love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude.
It does not insist on its own way;
it is not irritable or resentful;
it does not rejoice in wrongdoing,
but rejoices in the truth.
It bears all things, believes all things,
hopes all things, endures all things.
Sounds great! And it is, when we get it right. But sometimes the flock is not patient or kind. Sometimes we can be envious or boastful, arrogant and rude. We all like to insist on things our way and sometimes we are irritable and resentful when that doesn’t happen. Its hard to bear all things, believe all things, hope all things and endure all things. That’s where you and I and Ann come into our own when we realise that we too are called to shepherd Clayton and each other in the style of The Good Shepherd. The one who pulls us out of the muck that we get ourselves into and then gives us a great big unrestrained and joyful cuddle of forgiveness and glee.
So the good news is that this shepherding business is not just a Jesus thing and it’s not just a priesty thing. Thankfully! It is the vocation of every baptised person here including Amy and Clayton and on the other side of the grave and obviously here I’m thinking of people like Ann Sandison. Ann who sang in the choir, taught Sunday School, took GFS, served on the vestry and the rectory restoration committee. Ann, who was married in this church and every Tuesday morning went to Discussion Group and on Wednesday came to Eucharist. Ann knew the privilege of cajoling, welcoming, supporting, praying and loving along the path of discipleship; following The Master and walking with him.
And a lot of the time we only dimply perceive the path. We glimpse our road obliquely and murkily but we know that the Good shepherd will carry us if we need him to. He will be our guide when the windscreen of our spiritual vision is grimy and distorted and that’s OK. It’s like the window. You don’t try to look through it, you look at it. When we arrive to be with Ann and with the Good Shepherd, then we will know and we will understand that all along we have been known and understood. St. Paul says all this far more eloquently and exquisitely and so we give him the last word this morning.
For now we see in a mirror, dimly,
but then we will see face to face.
Now I know only in part;
then I will know fully,
even as I have been fully known.