I wonder if any of you are making special plans for May 21 this year. I mean, the vestry and clergy will be on retreat, praying for and planning for the mission of Emmanuel Church in the City of Boston. I wonder what the rest of you will be doing. Do you know what I’m talking about? Have you seen the signs on billboards and city buses and recreational vehicles predicting the Judgment Day (capital J, capital D)? There are some folks out there getting ready for the rapture, which by their calculations is scheduled for Saturday. They are dead serious. And I imagine that there are countless more feeling mildly to acutely afraid about the possibility of what if the message is true? (And it seems to me that fear is no small part of the objective of those who are preaching and teaching impending doom for any who do not fit their particular definition of “true believers.”) Honestly. It makes my heart hurt. Because of all of the things that the Gospels quote Jesus as saying, he says “do not be afraid” more than anything else.

Here on the Sunday we call “Good Shepherd Sunday,” our lectionary takes us back from resurrection narratives to the middle of the Gospel of John – right to the heart of it – to remind us, perhaps, that the Good News of Jesus Christ is primarily, fundamentally about answering the question, “is there life before death?” In other words, in the aftermath of the cross, do not forget the promise of the incarnation. Do not forget God with us – Emmanuel. Do not forget God with us, Emmanuel.

Our gospel portion follows immediately on the heels of the story told during Lent of the man who was born blind and whose sight was restored. Remember that story? The disciples of Jesus were asking, “who sinned -- this man or his parents that he was born blind? And Jesus answered, “neither this man nor his parents sinned. He was born blind. (Period.) So that God’s glory can be made manifest in him, we must do the works of the one who sent me.” In other words, stop worrying about who has sinned and get to work feeding and freeing people while there is still time. Of course, the story goes on (and on) about how people couldn’t believe the healing that they had seen take place. But what’s more insidious is that people with influence and authority were undermining and discounting the experience of healing – the experience of the newfound freedom and joy of the man formerly known as blind. According to the Gospel narrative, the healed man was banned from the gathered community because he hadn’t followed proper procedures in his healing.

It’s in that immediate context that, according to John, Jesus then shakes his head and says, “you know, there are thieves and bandits out there doing some real damage to God’s beloved.” There are scoundrels who are stealing and killing the creatures of God. There are robbers who are destroying the spirit of God in the creatures of God. Notice that Jesus is employing a figure of speech used by the prophets -- by Isaiah: “God will feed God’s flock like a shepherd; and gather the lambs in God’s arms and carry them in God’s bosom and gently lead the mother sheep.” And Jeremiah who declares the voice of the Lord saying “I myself will gather the remnant of my flock out of the lands where I have driven them, and I will bring them back to their fold, and they will be fruitful and multiply…and they shall not fear any longer, or be dismayed, nor shall any be missing, says the Lord.” And Ezekiel who declares the voice of the Lord saying to those in positions of leadership (described as shepherds), “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….Therefore….I myself will search for my sheep and I will seek them out...I will feed them with good pasture.” The prophets have harsh words for those in power who feed themselves but who do not protect and care for those who are vulnerable. Jesus has harsh words for them too.

According to John’s narrative, Jesus assumes that they will get this figure of speech – this paroimia – a cryptic bit of wisdom. But they don’t, and so in his recapitulation, Jesus says, “you know what? I am the gate.” The Greek word is thura – or door. In figurative speech, which this explicitly is, the word thura means possibility, opportunity, what is feasible, a way through. Think of thoroughfare. I AM, of course, is the divine revelation to Moses in the wilderness, encountered in the bush which was burning but not consumed. I AM WHO I AM, Moses hears. Or it can be translated I AM BECOMING WHO I AM BECOMING; or I WILL BE WHO I WILL BE. There’s that peculiar name of God – Who. According to John, Jesus is saying I AM the possibility – the opportunity – the doorway – the way through -- the gate. We could call this Good Gate Sunday.

The sheep can come and go through this I AM gate. They’re not locked in or out. They are free, sheltered, and fed. In fact, that is the very definition of being saved according to the Gospel of John. Salvation is when vulnerable ones are free to come and go, and they are sheltered and well-fed. Salvation is when even the most vulnerable have life and have it abundantly.

The 14th century, Persian poet Hafiz wrote a poem that I think you’ll like the title of. It’s called, “Stop Being so Religious.” It goes like this: (1)

It seems to me, in the context of the heart of John’s Gospel, on the heels of Jesus’ criticism of those in positions of leadership who destroy and steal from God, we have a lesson about the possibility – the opportunity to stop being so religious like that. We have a calling to not be thieves and bandits, perpetuating sadness, but to proclaim that what God wants for God’s people is to be free and to be fed abundantly. We have a calling to enact God’s desire for God’s people for weakness strengthened, sickness healed, injuries bound up, homecoming for those who have strayed, searching for those who are lost, not with force or harshness, with fear or foreboding, but with true abundant life which actively “seeks to overcome ruptures in human community,” wherever they occur. (2)

There are many ruptures in human community, of course. One that we have a unique calling to heal in this place, at this time, is the separation of church and synagogue. We aren’t the only parish in the world doing this work – but I can tell you, there are not yet many. Emmanuel Church and Boston Jewish Spirit are doing more than interfaith dialogue – we are figuring out how to be an interfaith family here. We are figuring out how to learn from one another and love one another, living together and sharing resources of time and talent and treasure. The work is difficult and grace-filled. It’s not just a scheduling challenge (and it is that); or a challenge of how people sharing a house divvy up chores (and it is that too).

We’re moving into the unchartered territory of what it might mean for some people to have dual citizenship in the realm of God. It’s more than a priest and a rabbi for a wedding ceremony (which is still surprisingly difficult to accomplish in those places). We’ve moved on to questions like “Can someone have a bris and a baptism? Can the same person have a confirmation and a bat mitzvah? Can the same person be a faithful member of two congregations at 15 Newbury Street without spending the whole weekend from Friday at sundown to Sunday at noon inside this building?” No one is showing us how – we are figuring it out as we go. For me, we are figuring it out as we go through the gate, the door, the possibility, the opportunity that Jesus Christ came to be.

I ask that on May 21, while the vestry and I are praying for and planning for the continued mission of Emmanuel Church, you also say a prayer for this courageous community, whether or not you consider yourself a member – we need your prayers. And I ask you to act compassionately and mercifully and justly. The world needs your actions. Pray that through our reconciling words and actions, we continue to find ways to change the church and to change the world so that all may have life and have it abundantly.