Despite the fact that we live frantic, hectic, on-the-road lives, it is still true that the greatest number of injuries and accidents occur in the home. Similarly, most car accidents occur when we are within five miles of home. Never decide not to fasten your seat belt because you are going "just around the corner." Statistically those are the most dangerous trips you make. Tragically, we are far more likely to meet a violent death at the hands of someone we know, especially a family member, than we are to be killed by an unknown assailant. It seems we continue to be our own worst enemies.
Maybe the ancient Israelites recognized this persistent self -destructive tendency more clearly than other societies have. Hebrew culture continually and unflinchingly characterized itself as "sheep" in constant need of a shepherd. Every culture has its own mythical image of itself, usually drawn from some romantic past.
So the bland, boiled-meat British will always be the noble knight-philosophers of the Round Table; the pale, cold-fish Scandinavians are secretly blood-thirsty Vikings; and the suburban couch-potato American is the eternal free-spirited cowboy. But no one except the Israelites voluntarily calls attention to the woolly coats and cloven hooves that reveals not only their true identity, but also our true identity --as sheep.
One of the reasons sheep so desperately need a keeper is that after centuries of domesticated herd life they have lost the instincts they once had to defend themselves. When a wolf, or a coyote, or a dog, gets into the flock, a sheep is incapable of mounting any kind of defense -- either singly or as a group. Some sheepherders have recently tried to give these poor dumb animals some help by mixing a few llamas or alpacas in with their flocks of sheep. The tougher, more combative llamas and alpacas will face adversaries when threatened, form protective circles around their young, or at the very least run away from danger instead of stupidly rushing right into its midst.
By admitting they were sheep, the Israelites also proclaimed their dependence on a good shepherd -- a leader who could protect them from the dangers around them, and more to the point of today's text, who could protect them from themselves. The shepherd's job is to keep the predators, wolves, thieves and bandits away from the flock.
Although some species of the animal kingdom have flock/herd/school capability to confuse predators and defend themselves, defenseless sheep don’t have that ability. And they certainly can’t organize an attack against marauders. So sheep should do what sheep do best -- stay close by their shepherd, remaining under the shadow of his protection.
But for 20th-century postmodern "sheep" such as ourselves, that attitude presents a problem. We don't like to think of ourselves as dependent on anyone or anything else for protection. We're cowboys, remember -- not sheep! When danger comes knocking on our door, it is not in our nature to stand back and let a protector answer it for us.
Verse 11, which opens this week's gospel text, introduces a new and dramatic idea from the images of Jesus as gate, shepherd and gatekeeper. After declaring himself the "good shepherd," Jesus asserts that the distinguishing mark of such a shepherd is that he "lays down his life for the sheep." What makes him a cut above all other shepherds is that no one takes his life from him, but he lays it down of his own accord.
Defining Jesus as a shepherd echoes a well-established Old Testament tradition. The role of a shepherd was something they could identify with. The pastoral history of Israel was well-established in the hearts of Jesus' Jewish listeners. To be called a shepherd was to be aligned with the Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and leaders like Moses and David.
Ezekiel 34 makes extensive use of the shepherding image -- evil rulers are likened to wicked shepherds, while God promises to save the abused flocks of Israel by personally playing the role of careful, tender, concerned shepherd to all the people. Indeed, most New Testament shepherd images have their roots in Ezekiel's text.
But the shepherd who "lays down his life" is a new dimension that Jesus has added to the shepherd motif. Later, in the 15th chapter of John, this sacrificial mandate will be spelled out in more detail. But for now Jesus uses the commitment of the good shepherd as a foil to demonstrate the difference between himself and the "hired hand."
The shepherd's commitment to the sheep is total -- he will lay down his life for them. In contrast the "thieves and bandits" come only to kill, to destroy the flock. The "hired hand" kills the sheep just as surely as do the thieves -- for by abandoning any interest in the sheep's welfare, the hired hand condemns the helpless creatures to death at the jaws of the wolf.