It’s an exciting time for parents when a child transitions from the crawling stage to starting to take those first steps. But that exciting time comes with a catch: the fear of falling. Once crawling gives way to walking, gravity suddenly becomes a much more significant concern. Parents are faced with the newfound fear of their child possibly being injured as a result of falling.
Fast-forward to the other end of life, the season of life that might find canes, walkers, or wheelchairs either welcome friends or necessary evils, depending on how one views them. Regardless, they serve a very important purpose: to help us keep our balance to avoid falling. A fall at that stage of life can result in critical injury or require surgery, and since our bodies don’t heal or recover as effectively or as quickly as they used to, falling is a legitimate fear.
But during the time in-between those two stages where, frankly, most of our lives takes place, falling isn’t as much on our radar. It’s during that time that we’re beyond the stage of those first shaky steps but not yet to the stage where our muscle strength and balance have deteriorated notably, increasing the risk of taking even the smallest steps. During that time in-between there just isn’t that much risk of falling.
At least physically, anyway. But what about spiritually? If you think about it, the risk of falling spiritually is almost inversely proportionate to the risk of falling physically. We tend to give the most attention to spiritual things at both the early and the end stages of life, but not always as much in-between.
Look at what often happens when adults for whom spiritual matters have not been on the radar suddenly have children. Now they are thinking about baptism and what to teach their children when it comes to spirituality. We make a big deal about confirmation and are concerned about how our kids are doing spiritually in middle school and high school. Then, at some point, it becomes their responsibility and we carry on with life.
Then, as the reminder of our mortality sneaks up on us in the final stages of life, spiritual concerns bubble up to the surface once again. A family member is diagnosed with a terminal illness and we realize we don’t know what they believe. A friend of a friend asks for prayers for her elderly parents, and we don’t know where they stand spiritually. The health of a dear friend is slowly declining and, as it takes a turn for the worse, we regret not having talked more about Jesus and find ourselves worrying about what will happen when death arrives.
But in the middle, in-between those two stages, well, we get busy and life happens. So many things going on. So much to do. We have so many responsibilities and obligations for others that we shelf the spiritual stuff for ourselves for a time, promising we’ll get back to it later, when we have more time. And we know how that plays out.
As we give our attention to where we stand spiritually, let’s be aware that perhaps the season of life that poses for us the greatest risk of falling away might just be the season of life during which we are least concerned about it. Nevertheless, it is one thing to be aware of it, and another to be worried by it. The Word of God does warn us frequently about being aware of it – no doubt about it. However, Jesus himself speaks to us words of safety and security in the face of uncertainty so that we are not unsettled or overwhwelmed by worry.
That’s the difference between believers and the unbelieving Jewish group crowding around Jesus in the Colonnade during Hannukah. Jesus couldn’t provide them with any hope.
If we were recreating the scene from John 10 today, there would be a van nearby with individuals monitoring the situation and recording the conversation. Those gathered around Jesus would have wire taps hidden on them to make sure they catch Jesus’ response. In other words, their inquiries were not coming from a place of curious, inquisitive exploration, as if they were genuinely seeking spiritual truth and yearning to know the way to salvation. No, those were things they were already convinced they knew.
The real intent of their question was to hear Jesus make what they had already concluded were blasphemous claims that he was in fact God. In their minds, their question was an open door for Jesus to incriminate himself by his response. “How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly” (v.24). If he had told them plainly what they wanted to hear they would have had enough witnesses to convict him of blasphemy.
Instead of giving them the response they hoped for, Jesus called them out with a blunt, straightforward condemnation. “Jesus answered, ‘I did tell you, but you do not believe. The works I do in my Father’s name testify about me, but you do not believe because you are not my sheep’” (v. 25-26). Ouch. “You do not believe. You are not my sheep.” Jesus very pointedly stressed what was lacking in their spiritual lives, and the problem was not on his end; it was on theirs. It didn’t matter who he was if they refused to believe it.
After Jesus called them out in their unbelief, he then offered some of the greatest comfort possible for believers. Jesus’ describes the relationship he has with his sheep. When the devil raises question marks in your mind over whether or not salvation or forgiveness are really yours, replace those doubts and that despair with the confidence that you are numbered among the sheep of Jesus’ flock. But how can you ever really be sure? Listen to – and believe – the words of Jesus, our Good Shepherd.
When you get into a car, there are a number of features that provide assurance that you’ll be safe while driving. You buckle your seat belt. Air bags will deploy in the case of an accident. Even before any of that happens, there are cameras and sensors and beeps and dings that alert you if you are too close to another vehicle or object.
Just as all of these safety features work together to help you feel secure while driving, so Jesus provides a number of descriptions that apply to believers that help you feel secure as sheep of his flock. “My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand” (v.27-28).
In contrast to those individuals challenging Jesus in the temple, the ones who don’t believe because they aren’t Jesus’ sheep (v.26), Jesus states, “My sheep listen to my voice… and they follow me” (v.27). Jesus is reassuring us by reminding us that doubts about whether or not we’re really his sheep can be put to rest by the fact that we long to hear his voice and follow him.
While no flawed sheep will ever demonstrate a round-the clock perfect desire to listen to Jesus’ voice at every moment, any desire whatsoever to listen to his voice is a reflection that we are his sheep. While sheep may from time to time ignore the voice of their shepherd and may wander off, that doesn’t discount that his is the only voice they will follow when they do listen.
Jesus even spells out why his sheep will listen and follow when he says, “I give them eternal life” (v.28a). The shepherd speaks words of life and forgiveness and his sheep listen and believe. As one of Jesus’ imperfect sheep, Peter explained why he listened to and followed Jesus: “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life” (John 6:68). Only Jesus gives away for free what every other religious teaching demands must be earned. So who else would we listen to? Who else would we follow?
Even more comforting is the flip-side of that relationship: the familiarity that Jesus has with his sheep. “I know them, ” he says (v.27b). Jesus does not know of you. Yours is not merely a name that has passed by his ears. He hasn’t simply heard your name come up here or there in conversation. You aren’t to him a friend of a friend of a friend.
He knows you.
He knows you better than you know you. He anticipates your needs before you express them. He plans to meet your needs even before you’ve worried about them. Even though our knowledge of him is so limited, his knowledge of us lacks nothing. Our knowledge of Jesus will always be lacking; his knowledge of us never will.
And speaking of “never,” there are two promises Jesus makes about his sheep that offer more security than anything else. Jesus promises that his sheep will “never perish” and that “no one will snatch them out of [his] hand” (v.28).
Do not allow the skeptic inside you spring up to cast doubt on these words of Jesus! They are words of rich gospel comfort for wandering and wondering sheep! If you are a sheep who has wandered, straying for a time, hear these words of Jesus and take them to heart! If you wonder if you have met the necessary requirements for being included as a sheep of Jesus’ flock, drop those doubts and believe these words of your Good Shepherd! There is no requirement you or I could ever meet – nor is there a need to, because our Good Shepherd has met them all.
At the cross, we see the Good Shepherd double as the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world (Jn. 1:29). The price he paid is how we know we are his sheep – sheep who will never perish or be snatched away! These words of Jesus this morning are not a “how to” primer on what is required in order to be Jesus’ sheep; they are so much more! They are the blessed assurance that what the Good Shepherd has already done is what alone qualifies us to be his sheep.
Notice that of all that Jesus says about his sheep, he only mentions two actions on the part of his sheep – listening and following (and even those are only to direct us to the source of eternal life!); the rest is all on the Good Shepherd, Jesus.
So he consoles concerned sheep not by emphasizing the need to act more like good sheep or behave more like sheep should so you can be sure, but by pointing out what he has done and who he is. It’s what the Good Shepherd has done – and not the sheep – that lets us know where we stand before him! Let these words of Jesus be what they are: comforting assurances for shy sheep unsure of where they stand before God.
Don’t let Jesus’ promises here be stripped of their power and peace! Do not immediately ask yourself, “Well how can I be sure of this? How can I know that this promise applies to me, that I will never perish or that I will never be snatched out of his hand?” Stop the self-evaluation that insists on tying the confidence of our salvation to what good sheep we are! Stop evaluating whether or not this truly applies to other Christians on the basis of what good sheep they are (or aren’t)!
Jesus says nothing about the sheep being good enough or too bad to be his sheep; he is simply describing his sheep, the ones he redeemed, the sheep he brought into his flock by his grace – not because they were “good enough” sheep!
We rob ourselves of the comfort and peace that are so unique to Christianity when we insist on twisting Scripture into a metric or a gauge which has as its sole purpose to help us determine who’s in and who’s out!
The Scriptures were not given for that purpose, but rather to point us to Christ, to the Good Shepherd, so that if we truly want to know if we are his sheep, then we don’t look in the mirror; we look to the cross and to the tomb. There alone will we see all the proof we need that Jesus’ promises are true: we – his sheep – will never perish or be snatched away. Thank God for our Good Shepherd!