May 8th, 2022

Reflections on the Gospel By Art Pittman

As I considered today’s Gospel—having just read Psalm 23—I found myself drawn to Christ’s description of Himself as our shepherd. It is not the first time Jesus has been defined this way (see also Hebrews 13:20; 1 Peter 5:4). What is it about the relationship between shepherds and their sheep, that we find so compelling as we struggle to understand our relationship with God?

I started by asking the holy Oracle of Google whether shepherds can actually recognize their individual sheep. I was brought to thewoolchannel.com and a post by Clara Parkes on May 20, 2021, titled: How Well do Shepherds Know their Sheep? There is a link in her post to an article in Scientific American (dated November 9, 2001) that cites a study (by Keith Kendrick at the Babraham Institute) which found evidence that sheep could recognize other sheep and human beings. That is, perhaps, not all that surprising.

The Wool Channel web page also provided me a link that allowed me to watch a “sheep recognition experiment” that was originally broadcast on the BBC on February 19, 1963. A journalist marked three sheep from a different farm (on their stomachs where it was not visible) and put them in a shepherd’s flock. He then brought the shepherd to his flock—comprised of around a hundred animals that looked exactly alike to me—and asked if the shepherd could locate the three sheep which did not belong. The shepherd did this without difficulty. When asked how he did this, the shepherd said he wasn’t sure—he just knew his sheep because he was always watching over them to make sure they were healthy and to take care of them, so he recognized the ones that didn’t belong. The shepherd then commented that picking the animals that didn’t belong wasn’t actually much of a challenge, because he could actually identify and distinguish each of his sheep individually. Testing this claim, the journalist went into the flock and selected several sheep at random. The shepherd easily identified each of his sheep (which the journalist confirmed using a number tattoo on their ears) and was able to recite the history and lineage of each particular animal.

In today’s readings, we are reminded that God is our shepherd. God takes us to green pastures, comforts us as we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, and ensures that goodness and mercy shall follow us for all the days in our lives (Psalm 23). God will guide us to springs of the water of life and will ensure that we hunger no more and thirst no more (Revelation 7:9-17). And God will give us eternal life so we will never perish (John 10:22-30).

God as our shepherd—caring for us, protecting us, providing for us, guiding us—is a powerful and profound expression of God’s unconditional love and grace for each and every one of us. And yet, while I believe this analogy is accurate, I am reminded of the story of the three blindfolded men who were asked to describe an elephant—one felt the tail, one felt the side, and one felt a single leg. Each of the three men accurately described one aspect of the elephant, but each interpretation was incomplete as it related to the animal as a whole.

The image of God as our shepherd is reassuring, and has comforted me during my times of trouble. But while this interpretation is accurate, I believe it is also incomplete. As Jesus tells us in John 10:27: “My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me.” We are not called to be sheep that passively benefit from God’s love and protection, we are called to follow Jesus—to do God’s work.

In Paul’s letter to the Philippians (Philippians 4:13) he says: “I can do all things through him who strengthens me.” We are still sheep—weak and vulnerable. And our relationship with God will always be defined by God’s role as our shepherd: protecting us, loving us, guiding us. But as sheep who hear His voice and follow Him, I believe Jesus is also calling and empowering us to act more like sheep dogs—showing God’s love to other sheep on behalf of the shepherd we serve.

Yours in Christ,

Art Pittman

May 1st, 2022

Reflections on the Gospel By Art Pittman

The last two years have been difficult. Extended periods of isolation and varying forms of lock-down have taken their toll on our society, on our communities of faith, and on each and every one of us. And while there is some scientific basis for optimism moving forward, the news about the “sixth wave” of the pandemic is not reassuring. It is fair to say that for many of us, this is not where we want to be in our lives. How can we cope with these challenges?

In today’s Gospel lesson, Simon Peter and some of his fellow disciples try to distract themselves from the difficulties in their lives by going fishing. An annotation in my NRSV Harper Study Bible points out that:

“After the resurrection, the disciples were at a loss to know what to do. Jesus had not yet given them instructions to wait in Jerusalem for the outpouring of the Holy Spirit. Consequently, these men, who had been busy with Jesus for almost three years, decided to return to what had been their trade before they became disciples.”

They were uncertain about their futures, and probably afraid for their lives, so it probably seemed only natural—therapeutic even—that they would seek comfort in a familiar task. But it was not what the disciples were called to do.

Jesus appears and reminds Simon Peter that if he loves God, he is called to serve others. Theologians have debated the nuances of the specific words in this exchange between Christ and Simon Peter, and the significance of Christ repeating his question to Simon Peter three times. There is merit in exploring and learning from these questions, but the most striking aspect of this passage for me is the emphasis Christ places on the connection between loving God, and serving others. Echoing Christ’s previous teachings (Matthew 22:36-40; Mark 12:36-40) that call us to love God, and to love our neighbours as ourselves.

This may seem to be a simple standard, but it is one that I have frequently failed to meet. I dwell on issues which are inconsequential, feel pride for accomplishments which don’t matter, get attached to material things, and often feel judgemental towards others even though I know that I am a sinner. And so, in my brokenness, I am often distracted from my relationship with God—allowing the world’s problems to overwhelm me.

Our Gospel lesson today reminds me that, even with my imperfections, shifting my focus to serving others can help me see past the distractions which separate me from God. It may not always feel comfortable, or familiar, or even safe. And, as Jesus tells Simon Peter, following our call to love God and our neighbours will often lead us to places where we do not wish to go. But we are strengthened when we focus on loving God and serving our neighbour—which makes coping with the challenges of this world… less overwhelming somehow.

Amen.

April 24th, 2022

This morning, in our gospel, we meet our doubting Thomas. Poor Thomas – throughout history, he has gotten a bad rap, and his own cliché: don’t be a doubting Thomas, people will say, about those who ask too many questions, who are too indecisive and wishy-washy. It is not meant as a compliment. Indeed, we probably wouldn’t put Thomas in charge, if we had the choice, or elect him to a position of power. Doubt has traditionally not been valued as a leadership skill: we want leaders who are confident and decisive, who take charge, and take care of things. We want leaders who make us feel better about our own uncertainty. Wracked with our own doubt, we do not want a doubting Thomas running things. And yet, doubt is trending. According to a recent essay out of the LSE University, doubt is powerful. The London School of Economics published a paper called “The Productive Power of Doubt.” It contains, in fact, rebuttals to the kind of leaders we tend to celebrate - ones who are single-minded and over-confident. Leaders who are blind to their own weaknesses. Who act with certainty in the face of uncertainty. One clear example, of course, has been the pandemic, where facts have been constantly changing, where the science has been rapidly evolving: in that situation, a leader who is comfortable with doubt, who can live with uncertainty, and move forward cautiously in the face of it, was what we needed. Doubt, as the authors of this paper pointed out, forces us to ask questions, to seek different answers, to see another side, to be innovative. The voice of doubt reminds us that we do not – and cannot - know everything. The ability to live with uncertainty, and yet still move forward, the writers concluded, is an undervalued leadership skill. Think about Thomas, who was not there, who did not get the benefit of seeing Jesus as did the other disciples, yet who is now being asked to believe in a miracle. Hold on, Thomas says, I need to see for myself. Until I have seen the marks of the nails on his hand, and touch them with my own, I will not believe. Can we blame Thomas really? It was a lot to ask, and the cost of belief for those disciples was very high – much higher than for us, sitting here today. Thomas asks a question the disciples didn’t have to – for they had already seen proof of the Resurrection with their own eyes. Let’s not be too quick to cast aspersions his way. Jesus hears of Thomas’s doubt and pays him a visit. He invites him to touch the wounds of the nails on his hands, and to reach out his hand to the cut on his side. “Do not doubt, but believe,” he tells Thomas. And we know that Thomas does believe, and becomes one of the most faithful and selfless disciples of the gospel. What a gift Jesus gave to Thomas. In a way, it was the easy way out: Thomas had doubts, and Jesus offered him proof to resolve the matter once and for all. He did not chastise Thomas for his doubts; or kick him out of the disciple club. He did not declare him less worthy. This was not an either/or situation for Jesus: one blessing does not rule out another. Jesus, we are to understand, values us even when we have doubts. Still, Thomas has a clear advantage. It is not likely to be so clear-cut for us, listening to this story more than two thousand years later. Yet, Jesus speaks to us, as if across time: Thomas, Jesus says, now believes because he has seen. Blessed are you who have not seen and have yet come to believe.” We are reminded by Jesus that there are many paths to belief – we may feel the presence of God solidly in our midst, we may read and ponder the scripture, we may sense God in nature, and we may search within and without for the voice of the divine. And so on, and so on. Our paths to belief are our own. And yet, they are most certainly marked by doubt. Peter experienced it when he denied Jesus; Thomas felt it when he demanded his chance to see Jesus, just as we experience it today. Having moments of doubt, living with doubt, is a strength. For Peter, it galvanized his ministry. For Thomas, it made him ask important questions, such as what would he believe from now on? For us, doubt forces us to consider the role of God and the gospel in a modern world that often mocks faith and challenges the just cause. If we never ask: What do I really believe? Why do I believe it? – then how is that belief ever bolstered? It must be strong enough to run up against doubt, and yet remain. Believing without seeing does not make us free of doubt. We are not blind adherents to a leader who makes all the decisions for us. We are followers of a faith, a way of living, that requires consideration and intention on our parts. We can doubt like Thomas and believe at the same time; we can live in uncertainty, and yet feel certain. The gospel exists in a real world, one that is never fully knowable. To doubt, to ponder, to wonder, those are the pillars of faith. To be humble enough to know that we do not know everything; to saviour that which is mysterious; to seek the divine in the midst of uncertainty. Amen.