April 26, 2026
Easter 4 Year A
Psalm 23; John 10:1-10
Epiphany, Winnipeg
Just to set the scene here. As Jesus says all these things about sheep, and a shepherd, and the sheep hear his voice, and they follow, and so on, I think it’s pretty normal to imagine that somehow we’re sitting right there. Sitting there, as we carry our joys and sorrows with us; sitting there with all of our hopes and our fears. Some of us are fidgeting and some are at rest, like in any crowd that sits and listens. We’re surrounded by the news of the world and by life that can seem so rich sometimes and sometimes so troubled. We’re sitting and listening, and Jesus talks to us, and assures us and comforts us with pictures of a shepherd and a flock and safety. That’s all good.
But here’s what’s happening in this reading from John today. Right before all of this, there’s a long story – we heard it a month or so ago, during Lent - about Jesus healing a man who’s been blind since the day he was born. Jesus gives the man his sight, and all through the rest of that long story, this one who used to be known only as that blind guy who sits and begs, has a long drawn out argument with important religious leaders - they’re called Pharisees - about whether Jesus actually healed him. Gave him a fresh start. Put him on his feet. Helped him be strong. Gave him courage to speak up to religious know-it-alls. Then, when those religious leaders have finally had enough, they just drive him out. “We’re done with you. Get outta here.” Then Jesus finds him, there’s this great moment when the one who has been healed doesn’t say, “Hey, I can see,” but he says “I believe.” He believes that Jesus set him free, he believes that this one standing before him is from God, and he believes that Jesus is one who gives life and freedom and hope and….life.
Then Jesus turns to the religious leaders and says, more or less, “You’re the ones who can’t see. You can’t see a thing.” And when he talks in this story today, he’s just picking up and keeping on going from there. So when he talks about sheep and shepherds and all the comfort of this word, he’s still talking to those Pharisees. And when he talks about thieves and bandits, he’s talking to those ones who think they hold all the power, and Jesus is saying, without really saying it, which is sometimes the best way to say it, that they are thieves and bandits. And when he talks about the ones who come to steal and kill and destroy, he’s talking to those religious types who think that they are the ones who get to say who’s in and who’s out. He’s talking to the respected and powerful experts and saying, “You’re the thieves. You’re the bandits. You’re no shepherds at all.”
And then he says to these ones, who think that they are the ones who open and close the gate to truth and life, “I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved, not pushed around and put down and kicked out. And whoever enters by me will come and go freely, with nobody locking the gate to keep them out, or locking the gate to keep them in and under control. And they will find pasture wherever they go. Because I have come so they’ll have life. Lots of it. An abundance of it. And then more on top of that.”
We are in that crowd listening in as Jesus reams out the would-be shepherds. And what we hear is that Jesus is the gate opening freely to let us in and let us out to roam around and taste that full and abundant life that he gives. Jesus says, “I am the gate.” And you know, there’s nobody who can slam the gate shut to keep anyone out. And there’s nobody who can lock the door and keep anyone locked up inside. “I am the gate.”
About a year and a half ago, as most of you know, I was in Norway for a few weeks, and for one of those weeks I was just walking alone, travelling by foot from a small little town call Berkåk, to medium sized city called Trondheim and to the cathedral in the centre of that city. I walked for seven days, anywhere from four to seven hours a day, and at least two or three times a day in all that walking, the path would take me across somebody’s farm land. Now I’ve grown up in Western Canada, and I’ve seen a lot of fences and stepped over a few of them and torn a shirt trying to squeeze through a gap. I’ve even still got a few small scars from a childhood encounter with barbed wire. I’ve seen a lot of signs on fences and posts and gates that say “No trespassing,” or “Keep out,” or “Beware of Dog,” or “Beware of Bull.” But on that walking trip a few years ago – and I’m not making this up – I never saw any of those signs. Every gate I came to as I passed through farmland and pastures, just had a sign that said what amounted to, “Please close the gate behind you.”
Now I’m not going to go on about how fabulous Norway is, because every place on earth is fabulous, and Norway’s not the only place where you can come and go on the land so freely. But you know, when I was on that walk, I never felt like I was going somewhere I shouldn’t be, or where I was not allowed to be.
There was just this gate. Anyone passing by could come and go freely.
And Jesus said, “I am the gate.”
Today is sometimes called Good Shepherd Sunday, because of all the shepherds who show up. Psalm 23 has the most familiar pieces of shepherd talk and maybe one of the most familiar pieces of scripture that we know. It’s so familiar that I’m not going to say anything more about it! Then there was that reading from Ezekiel, and it’s all about shepherds too, but these are bad shepherds. Corrupt kings, unjust rulers, powerful men who you could say were eating up the people rather than feeding and caring for the people. Just leaving a mess behind. And Ezekiel says that God says, “They can’t be shepherds any more. I will be the shepherd. I will feed the people, and I’ll put the people back on their own land.” Because God is a good shepherd.
Today is sometimes called Good Shepherd Sunday. So we’ve had “The Lord is my shepherd,” and we’ve had bad shepherds and God the shepherd, but in this reading from the Gospel of John Jesus never gets around to calling himself the Good Shepherd. Instead, for now, he calls himself the gate, opening and closing and opening to let the sheep move in and out of the sheepfold, in and out of that space where they are at home.
We’ve got churches called Good Shepherd Lutheran Church, but I’ve never heard of a place called Christ the Gate Lutheran Church. Maybe we’ll discuss a change of name at council on Tuesday….or not.
There’s this gate who lets us in and lets us out, lets us come and go freely. There’s this gate named Jesus who opens wide in welcome, receiving any sheep who come along, never saying “You can come in, but you can’t.” Any time we hear that word, that’s not Jesus talking.
There’s this gate named Jesus, who opens wide to welcome us out there into the pasture of the world, where there is so much beauty and goodness and life in this world that God so dearly loves. There’s this gate named Jesus, who opens wide to welcome us out into the pasture of the world, where abundant life is waiting for us even where there is struggle and temptation and hurt. Even where bad shepherds are just leaving a mess. There’s this gate named Jesus, who sends us out and says we can come and go freely and find life wherever we go, who sends us out freely because his Spirit goes with us wherever we go. The gate won’t shut to keep us locked in. And if anyone comes along and says you can’t go out there, that’s not Jesus talking.
Because Jesus is the gate, there’s nobody who can shut the gate. They tried that before, but God rolled away the door of the tomb, and opened the gate; Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! And all heaven has been breaking loose ever since. Jesus the gate came to open up and give us abundant life, right here, right now, in here, out there. Always. Abundant Life.