“The Kingdom of the Shepherd”

Seventh Sunday after Pentecost

Sunday July 19, 2009

2 Samuel 7:1-14a

Psalm 89

Ephesians 2:11-22

Mark 6:30-34, 53-56

 

At first glance, there does not seem to be a great deal of connection between today’s readings from 2 Samuel and from the Gospel of Mark.

 

Our reading from 2 Samuel recounts the promise that God made to King David through the prophet Nathan – the promise of a covenant with the house of David that would endure for all time.  And, although David would not be permitted to build the house of God in Jerusalem, God would build the ancestral house of David into a kingdom that would last forever.  “When your days are fulfilled and you lie down with your ancestors,” said the prophet Nathan, speaking for God, “I will raise up your offspring after you, who shall come forth from your body, and I will establish his kingdom.  He shall build a house for my name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever.” 

 

It was the promise of an eternal dynasty, a kingdom that would endure and would outlast all of the kingdoms of this world.

 

Our reading from the Gospel of Mark, by contrast, contains no accounts of prophetic declarations to kings, or references to the construction of grand temples or promises of the establishment of eternal dynasties.  Rather, the Gospel text recounts a number of incidents in which the miraculous power of Christ was revealed.  As he taught, as he healed people, as he treated the sick and the broken with compassion, his fame began to grow; and as a result of that growing reputation, increasingly large numbers of people were coming to him, making it difficult for Jesus and the disciples to find any rest.  As our text begins, the disciples had returned from their busy and engaged work, and Jesus said to them, “‘Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.’  For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat.  And they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves.”

 

They were tired; they had been working hard and needed a break; and they tried, for a short period of time, to find a place where they would be able to relax and enjoy a bit of seclusion.

 

But their attempted retreat from the crowds was short-lived.  As verse 33 states, “now many saw them going and recognized them, and they hurried there on foot from all the towns and arrived ahead of them.”  Even though Jesus and the disciples were in need of rest, their attempts at seeking a bit of peace and quiet were quite unsuccessful.

 

Rather, as verse 34 states, “as he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them, because they were like a sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things.”

 

Although this passage may not, at first, seem to be very closely related with today’s reading from 2 Samuel, it is interesting to realize that there is quite a profound and important connection that can be discerned between these two texts.

 

And the connection is realized when we pay particular attention to one small phrase in the second part of Mark 6: 34 – as the sick and the searching were increasingly coming to him, we read, “and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd.”

 

When most of us hear references to sheep and to shepherds, what probably comes first to our minds is the image of farm labourers whose responsibility it is to guide, to feed and to care for the animals in their care.  And, in the biblical contexts, references to shepherds inevitably draw our minds to those well-loved opening words from Psalm 23 – the Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.  Pictures and paintings which are inspired by that famous Psalm depict a strong but gentle shepherd, walking through a pasture, looking out for the sheep and seeking to safeguard them from any danger.

 

But what we sometimes overlook is the fact that the image of a shepherd, in the biblical texts, was not always – nor even most importantly – used to describe farm labourers.  Rather, the image of a shepherd, in the biblical narratives, was more commonly used to describe the desired qualities in the ancient kings and leaders in the community of Israel. 

 

This connection between shepherds and leaders was largely due to the fact that David who -- in spite of his failings, was regarded as Israel’s greatest king -- had been a shepherd boy before he had been anointed king by Samuel.  From that point on, the image of the shepherd king became woven into the spiritual longings of the people. 

 

The actions of the kings and leaders were supposed to be analogous to the actions that good shepherds played.  That is, the kings and leaders of the people were not meant to lord their power over those that they ruled; they were not supposed to oppress and tyrannize their subjects; their role was not intended to be one of forceful or dictatorial authority.  Rather, the leaders of Israel – like good shepherds -- were supposed to use their power and their authority wisely and responsibly – for the good of those who were guided and ruled.   A king whose prime concern was for himself rather than for the care and protection of his sheep was as problematic as a shepherd whose prime concern was to take care of himself rather than tend and care for the sheep.  Not only would the shepherd be derelict in his duties, but the sheep would suffer.

 

This use of the image of a shepherd to describe the kings and leaders was used in many places in the prophetic writings of the Hebrew Scriptures. Time after time, the prophets’ courageous critiques and criticisms of the actions of the kings and political leaders of Judah and Israel played upon this analogy of shepherds.

 

In Jeremiah 23, for example, when speaking about the devastating and corrupt actions of Israel’s kings, Jeremiah had declared, “Woe to the shepherds who destroy and scatter the sheep of my pasture!”  As that passage unfolds, it becomes clear that God will hold the shepherds – that is, the kings and leaders – responsible for the ways that their actions had led to oppression, suffering and destruction in Israel.  It is even possible to read the entire historical section of the Hebrew Scriptures as an extended meditation on the increasingly unjust, corrupt and destructive consequences of unethical leadership in Israel.

 

But the prophetic denunciations did not only apply to the kings.  In Isaiah, the prophet railed against the corruption of all of Israel’s leaders with the words, “Israel’s sentinels are blind, they are all without knowledge;…the shepherds also have no understanding; they have all turned to their own way, to their own gain, one and all.  “Come,” they say, “let us get wine; let us fill ourselves with strong drink.”

 

This same use of the image of a shepherd as a symbol of the rulers of Israel is woven through the 34th chapter of Ezekiel, in which we read, “Thus says the Lord God: Ah, you shepherds of Israel who have been feeding yourselves!  Should not shepherds feed the sheep?  You eat the fat, you clothe yourselves with the wool, you slaughter the fatlings; but you do not feed the sheep.  You have not strengthened the weak, you have not healed the sick, you have not bound up the injured, you have not brought back the strayed, you have not sought the lost, but with force and harshness you have ruled them.” 

 

The image of the shepherd, therefore, was a metaphor for the kings, the leaders, the priests and the powerful in Israel – all who had been entrusted with levels of power and authority, but who had used their power and authority for their own advancement, for their own benefit, for their own desires.

 

When we realize this wider biblical context, this phrase in our Gospel reading – that the people were “like sheep without a shepherd” – begins to take on a much deeper implication.  Jesus saw the people – people in need, people in times of crisis, people longing for insight and vision, people desperately coming to him – and lamented that those who were supposed to care for them were not fulfilling their responsibilities.  The religious and social leaders of the time, the teachers and scribes, the priests and the politicians -- all had forgotten that their responsibility, first and foremost, was to take care of those who had been entrusted to their care.  Power had been given to them; it was supposed to be used for the good of others; but the leaders had failed; and the people were suffering.

 

Sadly, even in the modern day, good, ethical, compassionate leadership is sometimes scarce – and, as in ancient Israel, the destructive consequences of a lack of effective leadership can be seen in many different dimensions of life.  We see it when political leaders become more focused on the perceived entitlements of power than on their responsibilities to their communities; we see it when business leaders pocket massive bonuses and multi-million dollar severance packages while employees, stockholders and pensioners are plunged into uncertain and stressful futures; we see it when the rich are more concerned with the well-being of their portfolios than with the welfare of the poor in their own communities; we see it when ministers and religious leaders are caught out in scandals and seem more intent on power and prestige than on service; we see it when teachers are more preoccupied with their workplace benefits than with the seeking the best for their students; we see it when parents seem more concerned with their own contentment than with the good of their children; we see it whenever any of us becomes more preoccupied with our own rights than on our responsibilities to others.  In these, and in so many ways, every one of us can be guilty of the same things that the prophets protested against – of not using what power that we have to strengthen the weak, to heal the sick, to bind up the injured, to bring back the strayed, to seek the lost.  We are all guilty. 

 

And we are not alone in this guilt.  Rather, this tendency to use power for ourselves rather than for others happens in every era of human history, and in every land and kingdom in this world.

 

But, thanks be to God, there is a different example, a different model, a more noble standard towards which we can strive.  In ancient days, a promise was made that a kingdom would be established, by a descendant of David, and it would be a kingdom that would endure forever. We are called, as we journey through this life, to seek to live by the standards of that different kingdom, which was inaugurated in this world by the One who, even when he was tired and in need of rest, continued to see and to have compassion on those in need, and to use his power for their good. Even when he was being mocked and humiliated, he did not respond with vengeance and with violence.  Even when he was being nailed to a cross, he prayed for the forgiveness of those who were killing him.  Tempted with power, he would not bow to what seemed expedient and effective, but was in fact evil.  In the face of hatred and opposition, he commanded his followers to respond with love, even towards their enemies.  In the face of violence, he commanded his followers to respond in ways that would defuse the situation in non-violent ways – to turn the other cheek, to give up one’s cloak, to go the second mile, to forgive seventy-times seven times, to pray for those who were tormenting and persecuting them.

 

In so doing, he inaugurated, in this world, and in the realm of human history, a new reality, a new way of being, a new community, a new kingdom. It was not a kingdom based on power and on prestige, but on service and self-giving compassion; it was not a kingdom that was defined by some geographical boundary or national identity, but by an acknowledgement and acceptance of our common identity as children of one God; it was not a kingdom that would expand through imperial conquest or oppressive domination, but rather in the willing choice of people to turn back to God, and to submit their lives to the command to love.  And, as God had promised to his ancestor David, it was, it is, and it shall be, a kingdom that shall endure forever.

 

As followers of Jesus Christ, it is our calling to allow our lives to be shaped by the priorities and the principles of that kingdom.  It is our calling to allow our lives to be used so that the eternal kingdom – of love, of justice, of grace and of peace – can become an increasingly powerful reality in this world. 

 

Nathan promised David that the kingdom of his descendants would be established forever; Christ revealed, in his words and deeds, that the reign of God’s love, God’s justice and God’s peace had come; and now, there is only one question left for us to ponder.


Will we open our lives to the reign of God’s kingdom of love?