CALVARY EPISCOPAL CHURCH, PITTSBURGH, PENNSYLVANIA
YOUTH SUNDAY, APRIL 21, 2002 - THE FOURTH SUNDAY
OF EASTER
"Very truly, I tell you, anyone who does not enter the sheepfold
by the gate but climbs in by another way is a thief and a bandit. THe one
who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The gatekeeper opens
the gate for him, and the sheep hear his voice. He calls his own sheep
by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes
ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice. They
will not follow a stranger, but they will run from him because they do
not know the voice of strangers." Amen.
A few weeks ago, the youth choir sang for the Maundy Thursday service.
That night, the readings were about the historical practice of Passover,
Jesus washing the disciple's feet, and the last supper. As soon as the
service finished, I ran to my car and headed over to my friend Lauren Lowenstein's
house. Lauren had invited me to come to her house for the second night
of Passover, a night that is traditionally spent with friends and family
at a Seder dinner. These dinners vary from family to family and from faction
to faction, but they all consist of certain rituals surrounding reading
lessons and eating symbolic foods. As we were reading the lessons I stumbled
upon a section that had just been read at church that night discussing
the historical practice of Seders. You see--Jesus' last supper was a Seder.
The bread that was eaten was unleavened bread and the wine that was
present was used for the many blessings. THe bread and wine that we take
during communion in remembrance of Jesus, stems from the same bread and
wine offered during a Seder in remembrance of the Jew's struggle for freedom.
In fact this Jewish tradition of Passover is so imbedded in Christian theology
that the Catholic Church celebrated Passover until around the twelfth century
when leading officials abolished the practice so as to publicly separate
Christianity and Judaism. Going from the intimate service of evening-song
to this dinner with my friends helped to enrich my image of the last supper.
Instead of looking on at a staged set as in Divinci's painting, I began
to see the more intimate interactions of Jesus and his disciples as close
friends, sharing food and washing each other's feet.
Perhaps it is because I have noticed this close relationship between
Christianity and Judaism, and Christianity and Islam for that matter (I
just didn't have a story to tell), that today's gospel struck me as excluding
those who practice a different religion and ignoring the similarities of
customs and shared common ground.
John says, "Very truly, I tell you, anyone who does not enter
the sheepfold by the gate but climbs in by another way is a thief and a
bandit." Are we to believe that heaven is like a secret society and
only those who follow Jesus will be admitted? That doesn't seem right.
The image of God as an exclusive entity, selecting those who can enter
heaven, does not seem to fit with the many biblical teachings of charity,
benevolence, and acceptance. i believe that we as Christians have to allow
Jesus to be only one way of experiencing God, just like being an Episcopalian
is only one way of being a Christian. We acknowledge that Catholics, Presbyterians,
and Methodists are different in many ways, but we still call them all Christians.
It seems to me that we have to find a way of understanding how God can
be God in many distinctive religions, although they may differ in customs,
policy, holidays, and languages, without diminishing our own relationships
with God as Christians.
Throughout scripture, God is often portrayed as a shepherd, protecting
his flock against the dangers of the world. Even in today's psalm we hear
the familiar refrain: The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not be in want.
In the gospel today however, we see the metaphor of this exclusive, selective
gate. Jesus says, "I am the gate, whoever enters by me will be saved."
It appears that Jesus is offering himself as the unique route to salvation,
but I would like to interpret the parable in a slightly different way.
Let us see God as the gatekeeper, heaven as the pasture, and let Jesus
play the role of the familiar shepherd. In this way, Jesus will herd the
sheep through the gate into safety, yet the gate remains in control of
the gatekeeper, God--therefore God may permit more than one flock to enter,
with more than one shepherd, we as Christians have decided to follow Jesus
and allow him to lead us towards heaven.
Another way of accounting for multiple religions underneath one God
is by looking at familiarity. John recounts that, "The sheep follow
him because they know his voice. THey will not follow a stranger, but they
will run from him because they do not know the voice of strangers."
Now this is very logical--people will only follow what they are not afraid
of, if something is unfamiliar, they will run from it. We can interpret
John's gospel as to suggest that the flocks are divided among shepherds,
each following that which is familiar and comforting.
I am continuing to stress the necessity of accepting the validity of
a multitude of religions for many reasons. First of all, as we believe
that God created this world and all of its people, we must believe that
the religions his people follow also stem from God. Secondly, with today's
emphasis on international solidarity, it is necessary that different religions
and cultures b able to interact with understanding. The problems between
Israel and Palestine, Ireland and England, India and Pakistan, and even
the United States and Afghanistan would be greatly alleviated, not necessarily
solved, but greatly alleviated if the conflicting religions could have
a greater understanding and tolerance of each other. This is not just a
problem interna
tionally but on a smaller local level as well. In the same way that
it is impossible to deal with someone who believes that they are better
than you are, it would be impossible to have daily inter-faith relations
if we believe that Christianity is the only viable means of salvation.
For the past four years I have attended Calvary almost every Sunday,
been an active member (and for the past two years president) of the youth
group, served as a lector, and as of last year I joined the choir. I've
met people I would not have know otherwise, discussed our common faith
and discovered our many differences. It has been an important part of my
life, allowing me to understand what I believe and form myself as an adult
responsible for my actions, words, and positions. For the past four years
I have also attended Taylor Allderdice High School, where I have become
friends with Orthodox Jews, Catholics, and yes even a few atheists. If
there is any one lesson that I have learned, it is the importance of tolerance.
Tolerance of those who believe in another religion, tolerance of those
who believe in no religion and do not understand my necessity for religion,
and tolerance of those who believe so fervently that their faith far surpasses
mine. Now, just because I have learned to accept people with different
beliefs, does not mean that I have stopped questioning them, if fact, anyone
who knows me, knows that that is far from the truth. I have never been
satisfied by a one-word answer, and I rarely just accept something as a
truth unless I have heard a logical scientific explanation as to why it
is true. So after asking a myriad of questions to those around me, I would
like to believe that there are many ways to enter a gate, not as a bandit
but as a welcomed shepherd. I would like to believe that John's gospel
is not about how singular heaven and religion are, but about the necessity
of faith.
Let us pray: