I Will Lead You Home

                         “I Will Lead You Home”

1. Psalm 23:4 "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for You are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me." Summer in ancient Palestine. A woolly bunch of bobbing heads follows the shepherd out of the gate. The morning sun has scarcely crested the horizon, and he is already leading his flock. Like every other day, he guides them through the gate and out into the fields. But unlike most days, the shepherd will not return home tonight. He will not rest on his bed and the sheep will not sleep in their fenced-in pasture. This is the day the shepherd takes the sheep to the high country. Today he leads his flock to the mountains. He has no other choice. Springtime grazing has left the pasture bare, so he must seek new fields. With no companion other than his sheep and no desire other than their welfare, he leads them to the deep grasses of the hillsides.

 The shepherd and his flock will be gone for months. They will stay into the autumn, until the grass is gone and the chill is unbearable. Not all shepherds make this journey. The trek is long. The path is dangerous. Poisonous plants can infect the flock. Wild animals can attack the flock. There are narrow trails and dark valleys. Some shepherds choose the security of the barren pasture below. But the good shepherd doesn't. He knows the path. He has walked this trail many times. Besides, he is prepared. Staff in hand and rod attached to his belt. With his staff he will nudge the flock; with his rod he will protect and lead the flock. He will lead them to the mountains.

2 David understood this annual pilgrimage. Before he led Israel, he led sheep. His time as a shepherd was the inspiration behind one of the greatest verses in the Bible. "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for You are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me." For what the shepherd does with the flock, our shepherd will do with us. And that is why we're here following our shepherd. He will lead us to the high country. When the pasture is bare down here, Jesus will lead us up there. He will guide us through the gate, out of the flat-lands, and up the path of the mountain.

 As one Colorado shepherd writes: "Every mountain has its valleys. Its sides are scarred by deep ravines and gulches and draws. And the best route to the top is always through these valleys. Any sheep man familiar with the high country knows this. He leads his flock gently, but persistently up the paths that wind through the dark valleys." Our shepherd will do the same for us. He will take us to the mountain by way of the valley. He will guide us through our Good Friday crosses to the mountaintop of Easter morning. He will guide us to his house through the valley of the shadow of death. If you've attended a funeral, as I presided at Dorothy Brodek's funeral on Friday and will preside at Anetta Filbin's funeral on Monday, you've heard these words. If you've walked through a cemetery, you've read them. They're quoted at the Grave sides of paupers and carved on the headstones of kings. Those who know nothing of the Bible know this part of the Bible. Those who quote no scripture can remember this scripture - the one about the valley and the shadow and the shepherd.

 3 Why? Why are these words so treasured? Why is this verse so meaningful on Easter morning and every Sunday morning? Because on this morning, and every time we worship, we surrender our fear of the grave. In a life marked by doctor appointments, dentist appointments, work appointments and school appointments, this is one appointment that none of us will miss, our appointment with death. We don't like to be reminded. We do our best to avoid the topic. But one wise man urges us to face it squarely in Ecclesiastes 7:2 - "We all must die and everyone should think about this." Solomon isn't promoting a morbid obsession with death. He is reminding us to be honest about the inevitable. In Psalm 90:12 the psalmist prays, "Teach us how short our lives really are so that we be wise.” The wise remember the brevity of life. Exercise may buy us a few more heartbeats. Medicine may grant us a few more breaths. But in the end, there is an end. And the best way to face life is to be honest about death. At the beginning of March, I turned 53. I’m closer to 90 and Pastor Don than I am to all the children we've been baptizing. All those things they say about aging are coming true. I have everything I had 20 years ago, except now it’s all lower. I’m beginning to relate to the author Dave Berry’s description of aging: “dental problems, intestinal malfunctions, muscle deterioration, emotional instability, memory lapses, hearing and vision loss, impotence, seizures, growths, prostate problems, greatly reduced limb function, coronary failure, painful hemorrhoid swelling, and of course death.”

 4 Aging. The way we try to avoid it, you’d think we could. We paint the body, preserve the body, and protect the body. And well we should. These bodies are God’s gifts. We should be responsible. But we should also be realistic. This body must die so the new body can live. St. Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 15:50 . . . “flesh and blood cannot have a part in the kingdom of God. Something that will ruin cannot have a part in something that never ruins.” Aging is one of the ways God keeps us headed homeward. We can’t change the process but this Easter season reminds us to change our attitude. What if we looked at our aging body as we look at a tulip coming up out of the ground? Do you gardeners weep when the tulip bulbs begin to weaken and new life springs forth? We don’t mourn the passing of the bulb, we celebrate it. “Watch that one,” tulip lovers say. “It’s about to blossom.” Could it be heaven does the same? The angels point to our bodies. The more frail we become, the more excited they become. “Watch that lady in the hospital,” they say. “She’s about to blossom.” “Keep an eye on the fellow with the bad heart. He’ll be coming home soon.” St. Paul writes in Romans 8:23 . . . “We are waiting for God to finish making us his own children, which means our bodies will be made free.” In the meantime we have these earthly bodies that St. Paul describes as lowly, weak, and simple. You could add your own adjective. Which word describes your body? My cancerous body. My arthritic body. My crippled body. 5 My addicted body. My ever-expanding body. The word may be different, but the message is the same. These bodies are weak. And, according to God, that’s part of the Easter plan. Every wrinkle and every needle take us one step closer to the last step when Jesus will change our simple bodies into forever bodies. No pain. No depression. No sickness. No end. This is not our forever house. It will serve for the time being. But there is nothing like the moment we enter his door. After the Bethlehem Shepherd shared his Last Supper he said . . . "there are many rooms in my Father's house; I would not tell you this if it were not true. I am going there to prepare a place for you. After I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me so that you may be where I am." He pledges to take us home. He does not delegate this task. He may send pastors to teach you, angels to protect you, singers to inspire you, and doctors to heal you, but he sends no one to take you. He reserves this job for himself. "I will come back and take you home." Just as the shepherd would not allow his sheep to journey to the highlands alone, our shepherd will not allow us to make the journey to eternity alone. The Good Shepherd is with you on this Sunday morning just as he was with the women at the empty tomb. And because he is with you, you can say what David said: "I will fear no evil; for You are with me; Your rod and your staff, they comfort me." 6 We celebrate that Easter day when he cups your chin and says, "Welcome home." And with scarred hand he'll wipe every tear from your eye. And you will dwell in the house of your Lord - forever. May the peace of God . . . #789 – Savior, Like a Shepherd Lead us