What makes you feel safe? I asked that question of about 8 people this week.  Their answers reflect the many meanings of "safety": airbags and seatbelts,  being with my children, because then I know they are safe,  when I'm in familiar surroundings, in a bookstore, library or gym,  being able to count on our community, an ordered government, our faith,  being in control, being home.  I'm sure that you could add many of your own.  I am convinced that feeling safe is essential for us in many ways - physically, emotionally and spiritually.

Conversely, what are you afraid of?  I didn't ask anyone that question, but there are plenty of things that are frequently presented to us as fearful:  cancer, terrorism, divorce, a flu pandemic, death, bad neighborhoods.  We are afraid of economic decline and worry about the costs of our children's education, our health care, our retirement. Then there are the fears of which we rarely speak: being alone or lonely, being in a crowd of people, having an MRI when your head goes in, not being liked or respected. Some fear the future; they're anxious about what's going to happen. Others fear the past and they're anxious about what has happened. And still others fear even the present, anxiety has gripped their souls and they cannot imagine how they can cope with the ugliness of present circumstances in their lives.

Several years ago, Time magazine conducted a $15 million poll with the National Institute of Health over a six-year period. They recently reported that the No. 1 health problem in America is anxiety. More than 13 million Americans are afflicted by it. On the radio this week I heard that one in five people, fully 20% of us, struggle with anxiety.  Clearly, either you or someone you know lives with it. We live in a world in which many people are engulfed with fear and anxiety - quite the opposite of feeling safe.

This morning we are offered an antidote to fear and anxiety.  Both of our scripture readings this morning remind us of God's never ending love and care for us. The fourth Sunday of Easter is always Good Shepherd Sunday.  It makes sense, when you think of it.  For even if the metaphor of sheep and shepherd is difficult to translate into our day and time, these texts are as well known and loved as the Christmas story in Luke. Most of us could say much of the 23^rd Psalm by heart.  Jesus as the Good Shepherd gives us more clarity about the way our Shepherd cares for us. 

Psalm 23 is read at virtually every funeral or memorial service.  It is a comfort to those who are seriously ill and a solace to those who grieve.  Yet it is not merely a psalm about death.  It is a psalm of life -life lived with the Lord of life.  It puts daily activities such as eating and drinking and seeking security in a radically God-centered perspective that challenges our tendency to miss God's presence in the everyday events of life. John's gospel tells us more about how Jesus, the Good Shepherd, leads us to life abundant.

Does anyone here know a lot about sheep?  (tell us).  From what I've read, they are not the smartest of animals. That may be one of the reasons we are not so fond of being compared to sheep!  They are totally dependent upon the shepherd.  Sheep scare easily, and have a knack for getting lost. They frequently wander off, following their enormous appetites. But sheep can do one thing that often saves them.  They know the sound of their shepherd's voice.  Even if several flocks are together and the sheep are intermingled, they will not follow another shepherd's call.  They know who they should follow.

Sheep also know that the safest place is with the flock.  They can't go it alone. "Given a threatening situation, one major element for me to feel safe is to be among or working with people whom I trust," wrote one person in answer to my earlier question.  Indeed, you can't follow Jesus by yourself - a hard concept for us fiercely independent and individualistic folks.  Yet, just as there is no separate singular form of the word sheep in English, we are not separate from one another either.  Karl Barth, noted 20^th century theologian was known to say that there was no such thing as an individual Christian. So following Jesus is not a private affair, but an affair of the fold.

If most of us don't know much about sheep, we probably know even less about shepherds. Unlike the sheep industry in western America and Australia, the flocks of sheep in the Middle East are usually relatively small. The shepherd does not herd them, he leads them. The sheep follow their shepherd, and when he stops they begin to mill around and graze. The life of the shepherd was anything but picturesque.  It was dangerous.

In King David's day, when the psalms were written, shepherding was an honorable trade.  But by Jesus' time, shepherds were largely despised. Jesus reminds us that there are shepherds other than him that are not to be trusted. These hired shepherd-servants depended for their livelihood on work that required them to be out in the fields and away from their mothers, wives, sisters, and daughters, whom an honorable man with the means to do so would have stayed home to protect. As a result, shepherds were considered the epitome of questionable honor -- unreliable at best, borderline bandits at worst. In such a context, a good shepherd, like a good Samaritan, was a contradiction in terms. The shepherds of John's time were despised much as were the traitorous Samaritans. "Shepherds in the first century were considered as honest and trustworthy as present-day used car salesmen."

Yet Jesus says again, "I am the Good Shepherd."    The Good Shepherd does not operate like the hired hands.  The most notable aspect is the relationship between sheep and shepherd - they know each other.  The Good Shepherd will never abandon his sheep.  They are safe with him. The sheep are led to a place with quiet waters, because they cannot drink if the water is moving. No sheep is ever left behind.  If they wander away, the Good Shepherd goes and brings them back.

The sheep enter the sheepfold, one-by-one, going between his legs. As they enter, each one steps and lets the shepherd remove the cockleburs from its wool, and gently rub salve into the wounds and sores.  At night, after leading the sheep into the security of the sheepfold - either a cave or walled in area, the Good Shepherd lays down in the entry way.  No sheep can wander off.  No wolves can get in.

Why?  Why do all of this?  Because the Good Shepherd is the living reality of God's love.  A love that embraces us no matter what. A love that never gives up on us.  A love that show us a different kind of safety, not based upon what does or not happen to our bodies.  Rather, even when life seems unbearable, our Good Shepherd is there, with us.

I believe that is was author Henri Nouwen who said that we are not loved by God because we are precious, but we are precious because we are loved by God.  The relationship between the sheep and the shepherd is based on what the shepherd does.  It is not dependent upon good behavior on the part of the sheep!  It's all about who the Shepherd is.  It's not about us.

And so there is nowhere we can go where our Good Shepherd will not be.  Indeed we may walk through dark valleys.  But we will not be alone. The psalmist reminds us that as our shepherd, God declares that each of us is worthy of being anointed and recognized as special, created in God's image, precious beyond imagining.  Our Good Shepherd knows each of our names, but also gives us new ones:  special, precious, beloved.  

Do any of you remember the movie Babe?  Professor Barbara Rossing, commenting on this text, uses this movie of about a charming pig, which becomes a prize-winning sheepdog. Babe shepherds the sheep not by biting or intimidating them, but by treating them with kindness. In contrast to the dogs that use domination and ferocity to make the sheep do what they need to do, Babe speaks to the sheep with respect: "If you would be so kind, would the three ladies with collars on please stand outside the pen?" The sheep oblige the little guy. They hear his voice and they follow him. The dogs, who think the world runs only on intimidation and violence, are shocked and finally are converted by the model of Babe's gentle shepherding. Jesus is like Babe... a gentle Shepherd who treats his sheep with care. The Good Shepherd knows exactly what it is like to be a sheep.  He understands our needs better than we do ourselves.

We may bump into too many trees.  We may disregard our need for deep rest and quiet.  We are thirsty for more than water.  And the paths ahead are unfamiliar.  We end up lost, not really knowing where to go next.  The wolves are howling. Many of us know the fear that can come with such things.

But we do not have to let that fear have the last word.  For the Good Shepherd, our Shepherd has been out looking for us, seeking to bring us back into the safety of the fold. The shepherd does not drag us or deplete us or bombard us or accuse us or violate us in order to get his way or force us into his image. Instead, the shepherd's voice invites and waits and walks by our side. Our Shepherd gently empowers and encourages us, giving to us the freedom and responsibility to grow and stretch and move toward wholeness.

It doesn't matter whether we are the strongest of the flock or the weakest.  If we are the weakest, we are given what we need to become strong.  If we are strong, we are give the responsibility of modeling our behavior after the Good Shepherd whom we follow.

During World War II an entire family was taken to a concentration camp.  One of their children, Tommy, was disabled.  They all knew that if that was discovered Tommy would promptly be sent to the gas chambers.  So they did everything they could to cover for him, to keep him hidden.  One day his father came back to their barrack and discovered that Tommy wasn't there. "Where is he?" he asked his other son.  Tommy's brother sat on a bed, a look of grief washing over his face.  "Tommy fell down and couldn't get up. The guards took him."  Tommy's father looked around again and asked, "Where is your mother?"  Looking up, the boy said, "Tommy started crying and crying.  He knew where they were going to take him. He was so scared. Then Mother said, "It's OK Tommy. I'll be there holding you the whole time."

What helps you to feel safe?  Deep inside, we sheep know the answer.  You told it to me this week. "Knowing that God is holding my hand no matter what."  "Always feeling God's embrace." That is the real antidote to fear.