Grace and peace to you from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. The Word of the Lord which engages us this morning comes from our Psalm (Psalm 23) and Gospel (John 10: 10-18).

A pastor was taking a group of parishioners on a tour of the Holy Land. He had just read them Jesus' words "I am the Good Shepherd" and was explaining to them that, as they continued their tour, they would see shepherds on the hillsides just as in Jesus' day. He wanted to impress the group, so he told them what every good pastor tells his people about shepherds. He described how, in the Holy Land, shepherds always lead their sheep, always walking in front to face dangers, always protecting the sheep by going ahead of them. He barely got the last word out when, sure enough, they rounded a corner and saw a man and his sheep on the hillside. There was only one problem: the man wasn't leading the sheep as the good pastor had said. No, he was behind the sheep and seemed to be chasing them. The pastor turned red.

Flabbergasted, he ran over to the fence and said, "I always thought shepherds in this region led their sheep -- out in front. And I told my people that a good shepherd never chases his sheep." The man replied, "That's absolutely true... you're absolutely right... but I'm not the shepherd, I'm the butcher!" I am afraid that in this day and age we are all too familiar with the butcher, and not very familiar with the Good Shepherd. (Rev. Keenan Kelsey, Sermon: "The Whole Flock") Psalm 23 is probably the most widely known, most beloved of the Psalms. Ask 100 Christians which psalm they would like read at their funeral, and I venture that 60-80 of them would request this psalm. It's a psalm that we pastors and I know many lay people use when they go to someone's bedside at the hospital. I wonder how many times this psalm has been spoken in the devastation and ruins that tornadoes left to our east and south this past week. This psalm poignantly reminds us that the Lord is not our enemy or our butcher, but a loving shepherd of his sheep. Please listen again to this psalm, modified slightly to capture in our modern language what the psalmist was communicating years ago. Listen again to the marvelous comfort and trust of David.

The Lord is my Shepherd;
I cannot want more
He makes me lie down in green pastures, beautiful grassy meadows
He leads me to still, glassy waters,
He restores my soul in this restful, awe-inspiring place.
He leads me in paths, the pathway of righteousness, for what reason? For his name's sake.
Amazingly, even though I travel through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.
Why? Because you Lord are with me.
Your rod and your staff, your protection and your guidance, they shall always comfort me.
This Lord is not just a shepherd, but a loving Host as well. He prepares a feast for me, even in the face of my enemies.
He continues to fill me with blessing upon blessing.
I can absolutely be confident that his goodness and his lovingkindness will follow me all the days of my life.
And I will dwell in the Lord's house forever.

This psalm is a simple confident poem of David's, one that shows the absence of doubt, fear and anxiety David was feeling, probably toward the end of his life. Other psalms of David exhibit his angst, his recurring frustrations with God's leading, his guilt before a holy God. But Psalm 23 "breathes throughout a spirit of the calmest and most assured trust in God. ��

It speaks of a peace so deep, a serenity so profound, that even the thought of the shadow of death cannot trouble it" (Perowne, The Book of Psalms, 1878). We walk through many difficult valleys in this life � financial difficulties, school and work stress, family tensions, physical illness. We too often walk in the valley of our own sin and guilt, of not trusting our Shepherd. Ultimately we will all walk through these valleys, including that ultimate valley of the shadow of death. But we need not fear these evils, that evil. Why not? Because our Lord Jesus Christ has walked through that valley ahead of us. He laid down his life for the sheep. A hymn we sang just a few weeks ago (LW #119, O Dearest Jesus) has this marvelous line:

How strange is this great paradox to ponder; The Shepherd dies for sheep who love to wander.

Our Lord Jesus, the Good Shepherd laid down his life for the sheep on the cross. Then he took up his life again, rising from the grave to show that he has conquered the valley of the shadow of death once and for all, for all who listen to his voice, to his Word. An American tourist was traveling in the Mid East. He came upon several shepherds whose flocks had intermingled while drinking water from a brook. After an exchange of greetings, one of the shepherds turned toward the sheep and called out, "Manah. Manah. Manah." (Manah means "follow me" in Arabic.) Immediately his sheep separated themselves from the rest and followed him. Then one of the two remaining shepherds called out, "Manah. Manah." and his sheep left the common flock to follow him. The traveler then said to the third shepherd, "I would like to try that. Let me put on your cloak and turban and see if I can get the rest of the sheep to follow me." The shepherd smiled knowingly as the traveler wrapped himself in the cloak, put the turban on his head and called out, "Manah. Manah." The sheep did not respond to the stranger's voice. Not one of them moved toward him. (modified from John M. Braaten, The Greatest Wonder of All, C.S.S Publishing).

How did the children recognize their mothers' voices? Because they have heard them, over and over again. We are his sheep who listen to his voice again and again. ��

It's so easy to become distracted, to hear other voices that would lead us away from his voice. (Children's sermon included the voices of mothers on tape and a test to see if the children could recognize their own mother's voice just as we recognize Jesus' voice in his Word).

The American tourist asked the Arabic shepherd "Will the sheep ever follow someone other than you?" The traveler asked. "Oh yes," the shepherd replied, "sometimes a sheep gets sick and weak, and then it will follow anyone."

We have seen it, haven't we? People, young and old, who are "weak and spiritually sick." Battered by the storms of life and distracted by voices urging them to go this way and that, they have lost their bearings and they don't know where they are or where they are going.

And when someone is alone and "sick" in their spirit they will follow anyone who will promise a moment of happiness, a brief feeling of peace or forgetfulness, a sense that they are someone. But the call of Jesus the Good Shepherd is, (John 14: 6) "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life. No one comes to the Father but by Me." There is no better way, no greater truth, no happier life. Our Lord reaches out to us in love that we might follow him. (modified from John M. Braaten, The Greatest Wonder of All, C.S.S Publishing). I sometimes ask catechism students and others "When does your eternal life start?" The common answer is "when I die and go to heaven." But that common answer is not really correct. Our heavenly life begins at that point, but our eternal life has started already, when God's grace first touched us in the waters of our baptism or when the Word of his voice first grabbed us and we began to trust in him. The love of the Lord is so great, so lavish that we can be called not just sheep, but his children (1 John 3: 1). For his name's sake He has conquered sin and death for us, and now we can walk through that valley of the shadow of death knowing that our eternal lives with him have already begun. He is already our shepherd, our good shepherd, and now we who listen to his voice (John 10) can go through life with the greatest of confidence and trust, not in ourselves or our own paths, but in his strength and love. Amen.

And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, will keep your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4: 7)