by Danielle Shroyer
Gospel Reading: John 10:22-30
For Sunday, April 21, 2013: Year C—Easter 4
Sometimes, less is more.
In this conversation between Jesus and the Jews gathered in the Temple, I think it would have been perfectly acceptable—and quite possibly preferable—if Jesus had just quit while he was ahead.
A Reasonable Doubt
They come to him with a direct question. “How long will you keep us in suspense? If you’re the Messiah, tell us plainly.” This is a completely understandable request. We are talking, after all, about John’s Jesus. He’s the one who has said “Destroy this temple and in three days I’ll raise it up” (2:19) and to Nicodemus, “No one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above” (3:3) and “Before Abraham was, I am” (8:58). We’ve had 2000 years and we’re still talking about what these things mean.
Is it so terrible that they didn’t understand it on the first go-round?
Good Gracious
It’s true. Jesus did have a lot of conversations about his identity by this point in John’s gospel. But that’s because everyone was really confused about his identity. And all they’re asking for is a straight, honest answer—Look, I’m the Messiah, and here’s why.
They come to him again and ask him this question again because he really hasn’t ever told them plainly. Jesus response is always mired in these esoteric things about being born again or having to eat his flesh and blood or about him being the manna from heaven or about him existing before/during/after Abraham on the space-time continuum.
Good gracious, these conversations make even those of us who already believe in Jesus scratch our heads.
Just the Facts, Man
Jesus finally says, “I have told you, and you do not believe.” That answer could have sufficed. It’s straight and to the point and firm. If they were asking from a true desire to get some clarity on the matter, this could have invited them into deeper conversation. But if they had some sort of ulterior motive we can’t deduct from the text, this would be enough to end the conversation. From this question Jesus could have even turned the conversation around and pointed it back in their direction (which he’s been known to do): Why don’t you believe?
But Jesus keeps going….and going…and going. First he says that his actions testify to who he is, and we can go along with that (although, knowing what he did and knowing what they meant are two separate things). But then he says something that totally halts the conversation altogether: “You don’t believe because you don’t belong to my sheep.”
What does Jesus want them to do?
What is this supposed to accomplish? Is Jesus working some sort of reverse psychology here? Or is he just shutting the door on them?
If these people came to Jesus because they were honestly seeking something, I can’t imagine they left the conversation feeling like they had found it...or worse, that they were welcome to come and ask at all. It’s like going up to your calculus teacher’s desk to ask a clarifying question and having her respond, “You don’t understand because you’re not one of my mathletes.” What do you do at that point—just go and sit back down? Turn the paper in unfinished? Give up on the problem altogether?
I know that John is writing for those who believe. And I know most sermons (and most commentaries) are going to focus on Jesus’ answer as it relates to believers- what it means to be sheep who are safe in God’s hands and who follow God’s voice. Well, good for us. But what about the people who asked the question?
The Hardest Question
I encounter people all the time who are really confused about who Jesus is. (You do, too.) They have read or heard about what he has done, and they have read or heard about what he has said. But they still have questions. Not because they are cynical, or dismissive, or even argumentative, but because declaring your belief in someone as the Son of God is kind of a big deal. When we encounter these people, are we to do what Jesus did?
Are we to tell these people that they do not believe because they’re not one of his sheep?
Danielle Shroyer is the Pastor of Journey Church in Dallas, TX. She is the author of The Boundary-Breaking God: An Unfolding Story of Hope and Promise (Jossey-Bass, 2009) and blogs at www.danielleshroyer.com. Danielle lives with her husband, two children, and two wild and crazy dogs in Dallas.
