Sermon: Seventh Sunday after Pentecost

The Very Rev. William Thomas Deneke, rector

The psalmist and the gospel writer team up today with sheep and shepherd metaphors.

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not be in want,” says the psalmist.

“As he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he
had compassion on them, because they were like
sheep without a shepherd,” says the gospel writer.

We probably don’t like to think of ourselves as sheep. Others may fall into this category but we are too enlightened, too independent. Yet there are times when all of us feel more like sheep than shepherds.

One day last week, as I was leaving the church, a young man named Brandon showed up. He was obviously in considerable pain. He said that he had an abscessed tooth. In fact, he and his parents were driving from South Carolina to Alabama when the pain became so bad that they left the interstate and found their way to the emergency room at Dekalb Medical Center. Brandon had been given a couple of prescriptions but had no money to have them filled. He was truly living in pain and chaos. In a strange town, deeply in pain and needing help. There he stood in the church plaza, a sheep without a shepherd.

We went to the drug store. As we waited for his prescriptions to be filled, Brandon began to tell me of his situation. He was a plumber’s helper and he traveled from one construction site to another. Both he and his father did this sort of itinerate work and his mother went with them. There had been a mix-up in South Carolina: the master plumber was not to be on the site for another week and the helpers had been sent home.

To say the least, his was a hard life. Brandon was not complaining but he was wondering how much longer his family could continue in this line of work as his mother’s health was worsening.

Brandon is an example of someone living on the edge of chaos. It would not take much to go wrong and he would find himself in utter darkness. While his circumstances may be different than ours, the truth is we are like Brandon in many ways. Life is ever challenging any notion we may harbor that we, alone, are masters of our fate.

I think it raises our anxieties when life crashes in for those around us. Sometimes our tendency is to blame. We think life is not meant to be chaotic and if it is, it must be someone’s fault. But sometimes the best plans and the most sincere prayers seem to crumble before us, and there is no one to blame. We may find ourselves stuck somewhere between wanting to be the shepherd of our lives and feeling like sheep without a shepherd.

The other day I had a conversation with someone who had been laid-off. The place where this person worked was closed down. She was offered a job out west at another plant, but that was too far removed from her family and her roots, from where she belonged. Like most of us, this person took pride in being self-sufficient financially (although no one really ever is) and was now living on unemployment benefits, which would soon run out. Like others we know and like some of you, everyday she was seeking employment.

Here was a shepherd beginning to feel like a lost sheep. Still she was hopeful. Her faith was strong.

I hear these stories and I think how Jesus had compassion on the crowd because they were like sheep without a shepherd. He did not blame; he had compassion.

Compassion is a gift from God. Compassion opens doors to resources.

Jesus did not just feel sorry for the crowd. In his compassion he began to act. He taught and he healed.

I have seen what compassion has fostered at Holy Trinity. The support this parish has for outreach opportunities is a gift of compassion. The mission to Honduras we hope to accomplish in the coming days is empowered by compassion. Within our parish, compassion is evident in our pastoral and formation ministries. And in the way we hold one another in prayer.

Psalm 23 reveals the source of compassion: The Good Shepherd. Trust in the Good Shepherd leads us to say with the Psalmist, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me: thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”

And when we can say that, compassion is at home in us.

Thank God for the times we can say these words. And when we cannot, we can take comfort that someone is saying them for us, for our prayers are also for those who cannot pray.

Our true hope is in the compassion of the Good Shepherd. In the compassion of the One who leads us beside still waters, who draws us to paths of righteousness, who comforts us, anoints our head and fills our cup. And who promises that we will dwell with the God of Compassion forever. The Lord, indeed, is our shepherd. Amen.