Who would die for their job?

There might be a few things you'd risk your life for. The list is probably pretty thin. Your family, maybe. Your country and your freedom. Sometimes people risk their lives for silly things — fame and fortune, like Evel Knievel doing dangerous stunts and tricks for the chance to be rich and famous. People used to go over Niagara Falls in barrels, which doesn't seem like a very good idea.

But very rarely would someone risk their life for their work. Of all the things you might risk your life for, not many would do it for their job. You're not going to get too many McDonald's workers risking their life for a Big Mac. You're not going to risk your life to sell someone sneakers or make them a latte.

Jesus tells a story about a shepherd — a very common job in his day — who not only risks his life for his sheep but lays down his life for them. For those hearing those words when they were first spoken, this would have been a radical and crazy idea.

The sheep pen and the voice

Jesus tells a story about the very common human experience of looking after sheep. Many people in the day would have sheep — not just people with a large herd, but most families might have a few. You'd use them for wool, for milk. If a celebration came, you'd use them for meat.

What would happen is the village would have a number of families with a couple of sheep each. At night there would be a communal pen — one place where you'd bring all the different sheep and put them in together. The pens in those days would often be a fence made out of piles of rocks with thistles or brambles on them, or maybe even just big brambles and bushes arranged in the shape of a pen.

At night they'd put all the local community's sheep in, and they'd get one of the teenagers probably to stay with the sheep, sleep with them, keep them in, sit in the gate spot so they don't run away — and also make sure no thief comes and takes a sheep that isn't theirs.

Morning time would come and the family members would return to collect their sheep. But of course, they're all mixed together. Whose sheep is whose is a bit of a question. What they would do is have a call or a whistle, and the sheep would recognise the voice of their owners and make their way out of the herd and come to their family.

In this common experience, Jesus uses the imagery to paint a picture of himself as the shepherd whose voice many know. But he starts the story not by talking about the sheep and the shepherd, but by talking about the gate.

"Very truly I tell you Pharisees, anyone who does not enter the sheep pen by the gate, but climbs in by some other way, is a thief and a robber. The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep listen to his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes on ahead of them, and his sheep follow him because they know his voice. But they will never follow a stranger; in fact, they will run away from him because they do not recognise a stranger's voice" (John 10:1-5, NIV).

I am the gate

Jesus tells this parable and doesn't give it a whole heap of explanation. He has another go in verses seven to nine because they didn't quite get it the first time.

"Therefore Jesus said again, 'Very truly I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep. All who have come before me are thieves and robbers, but the sheep have not listened to them. I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved. They will come in and go out, and find pasture'" (John 10:7-9, NIV).

He's changing his analogy. First he's the shepherd that calls the sheep, and now he's saying he is the gate. In our heads, we have a picture of a wooden thing with a hinge that swings. Not so in the first century. The gate wouldn't be something as manufactured as that. The gate would usually be whatever teenager or whoever was watching the sheep by night — they'd sleep in that spot, in the gate opening. They might have a log or a bramble to put there, but the shepherd would sleep in that gap and become the gate themselves.

So when Jesus says "I am the gate," he's not referring so much to a piece of wood with a hinge. He's referring to the one who would sleep in that opening and keep the sheep safe. The one who is there to protect them from the thief and the robber, from the wolf, the bear, whatever might come. And he says they must pass through him, and when they pass through him, they will find good pasture.

The good shepherd lays down his life

After giving them two images — I'm the shepherd, I'm the gate — he expands on the first one.

"I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. The hired hand is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep. So when he sees the wolf coming, he abandons the sheep and runs away. Then the wolf attacks the flock and scatters it. The man runs away because he is a hired hand and cares nothing for the sheep. I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me" (John 10:11-14, NIV).

A normal shepherd will not risk his life for his flock. That's his job. There will be other sheep. Danger comes and it's him or the sheep? Well, it should be the sheep that go. If the wolf is striking and the shepherd fears for his life, it doesn't make much sense for the shepherd to die for the sake of the sheep.

But in this analogy, Jesus has this radical idea of a shepherd who would lay his life down willingly for his sheep. Not just risk it, but lay it down. The imagery he's painting is something far deeper than just a job you would do. The connection he's talking about is family, responsibility, codependence. It's life and death. There is this reckless love that the shepherd has for his sheep.

And of course, what Jesus is saying is that we, as his sheep, follow a shepherd that cares for us in a reckless manner — in a manner that could put himself in the way of serious harm and danger.

A God who is not indifferent

Jesus is telling this analogy in the context of a world where there are many gods, and yet very few of them care for humanity. In the time Genesis was written, there was another mythology called the Enuma Elish. In that story, the gods create humanity more or less as a slave force to do their menial tasks. The gods care nothing for the people. When they annoy them, they send a flood and wipe them out because they're noisy and annoying.

In the Greek mythologies, Poseidon keeps blowing Ulysses off course so he can't return home — just for the fun of it, just for his own entertainment. The gods care nothing for the humans. They are toys. They are playthings. That's the thinking and the context of the time.

But here, Jesus gives imagery that is completely counterintuitive to all of that. This is not a God who is indifferent to humanity. This is a God who sacrifices greatly for the sake of humanity. He is the polar opposite of the gods of the pantheon of the era.

Life to the full

So what does it mean to be a sheep of the good shepherd? The sheep hear the voice of God, and they respond. They reject the voices of the thieves, and they follow his voice. The sheep in Jesus's flock know his voice and follow what it says. You can hear the voice of God and go, "Great, thanks God, that's good." But that doesn't get you anywhere unless you do what you've been asked to do.

And here's the part I've kind of buried the lead on. If you've still got your Bibles open — as I know you do — have a look at verse 10. The second part reads:

"I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full" (John 10:10, NIV).

Great memory verse. The path that leads us in following the shepherd leads us to life and life to the full. Jesus doesn't want to lead his sheep into danger or into a life that is not. He wants to lead them to life as it is meant to be lived.

Often when we think about Jesus wanting us to have life, we think of the eternal sense — salvation, eternal life. But that's not what he's talking about here. He's talking about life in the present day. When you listen to the voice of the shepherd, you are led to life and life to the full. Life how it is meant to be lived.

The Holden Torana principle

Before I was born, my dad had a Holden Torana — classic Australian muscle car. A little bit before my time, but I've seen the pictures. It was brown. Brown was popular in the seventies. I don't know, I wasn't there. I won't judge.

But he loved his Torana. And as you do, you fiddle, don't you? You add bits, modifications, you tweak the carburettor. I don't know. You do things to it. One of the things he did was put in an aftermarket air conditioner, and Mum said it was so cold you could chill your bottle of water on it. It was freezing in that car.

But the problem was the more he did, the less reliable the Torana became. The more he fiddled and changed and added to the design, made his own modifications, the less reliable it was. Mum said in the end they drove her car more often because they weren't sure if the Torana was going to get them there and back.

The more you take that car from its intended design and purpose, the more trouble you have.

So it is with us and life. The more we choose our own path, the more we decide how we want to live, modify what God has told us — add bits, take bits out, change it — the more trouble you'll find. Jesus says, "I want you to have life and life to the full. If you follow me, I'll lead you to green pastures." What he's saying is that if you listen to his instructions on life, that is how life is lived best.

Sometimes people think about Christianity as a list of rules. It's not a list of rules. It's the guideline to tell you how life is lived best. And the more you listen to the voice of God, the more you will find life and life to the full.

A question to sit with this week

How can you listen to the voice of the good shepherd more this week? Is it reading more of the word? Is it spending more time in prayer? Is it looking for the way God has answered prayers? What works for you?

And then the harder question: how can you put it into action? Because hearing the voice is one thing. Doing what it says — that's what makes you a sheep of his flock.