Sermon for Sunday, April 26, 2026

April 26, 2026
By Kristin Berkey-Abbott



John 10: 1-10



Today is church holiday commonly known as Good Shepherd Sunday. This Sunday in the season of Easter comes to us each year, with the readings focused on shepherds and the idea that Jesus is the shepherd. I’ve thought, written, and preached on this text, and I’ve always focused on the sheep and the shepherd. This year, though, it’s the idea of Jesus as gate that speaks to me.


In some ways, it’s a metaphor that feels dangerous, like it could be misused. Indeed, it has been. First century Christians who heard today’s text would see themselves as the chosen sheep. Through the centuries that have followed, the Jews who came before the time of Jesus were often painted as the ones in verse 8: “All who came before me are thieves and bandits.” But most modern scholars agree that Jesus is much more likely talking about all the other false messiahs that were roaming the country side, taking advantage of people in a time of extreme political and economic insecurity and danger. Let us always remember that Jesus said he did not come to replace the Law and the prophets, but as a fulfillment of them.


The other danger with this text is how it has been used to exclude—even to the extent of justifying public policy. Listen to that first verse again, with the ears of a person who is running for office and wants your vote: “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.” Anyone who wants to keep people out is likely to advocate for high walls or a big fences—and politicians through the ages have known that one way to win votes is to make us afraid of the thieves and the bandits or to make us want to keep some people out and some people in.


Jesus, though, is not a politician.


Notice that Jesus doesn’t call himself the fence. That metaphor would be different, one of exclusion. Jesus is the gate, which is a much more welcoming metaphor. A gate can open. Is Jesus the only gate? We might talk ourselves into believing that our way of understanding Jesus is the only way, that those who don’t enter through the gate of Jesus are on their way to Hell. But that might not be what Jesus means.


In the book of John, Jesus uses several metaphors to explain himself as Messiah: food, drink, and light. Note that these metaphors show Jesus as essential to life; humans won’t last long without nourishment, hydration, and light. In today’s Gospel, Jesus uses another metaphor of something that is essential to life: safety, the safety that comes from inclusion.


Many people might have heard this Gospel preached as Jesus being necessary to keep us from eternal damnation. In this preaching, Jesus is the gate that allows people to escape Hell. We tend to think of salvation in terms of the afterlife—whether we’re going to Heaven or going to Hell. Where will we spend eternal life?


But Jesus offers us a bigger pasture: safety and protection in the life we’re living now. In the book of John, Jesus often circles back to the idea of what makes life-giving community. He often preaches this vision of life-giving community by using metaphors, and the symbol of the shepherd is one of the most vivid and judging by what images find their ways into churches, one of the most beloved and meaningful. It’s not hard to understand the appeal.


Jesus as a gate gives us a slightly different vision than Jesus as the shepherd. A beloved vision of Jesus as a shepherd is of the shepherd who goes after the one wandering sheep. I’ve preached at least one sermon that ponders the strangeness of this metaphor. If the shepherd goes after one sheep and leaves 99 sheep behind, those sheep are unprotected. A fence with a gate gives those sheep more protection.


It’s not just the shepherd and the fence with a gate that gives an individual sheep protection. The rest of the sheep give protection too. We don’t often hear sermons that preach about the value of sheep. Most of the sermons I’ve heard—or preached—talk about the stupidity of sheep, not the wisdom of being part of a herd. I am thinking of a Far Side cartoon, with one sheep standing on its hind legs saying, “Wait! We don’t have to be sheep!”


I first saw that cartoon on the office door of a professor who wanted students to stand out and be unique, to resist conformity. Although I first saw that cartoon over 30 years ago, not much has changed. We live in an individualistic culture, one that sneers at those who follow the crowd. Many of my students dream of becoming an influencer—maybe through social media, maybe through rising in the ranks of business, maybe by being an athlete. My students are not alone in this yearning. In the U.S., we aren’t raised to want to be someone who follows.


But Jesus comes to remind us that we belong to a different herd. Jesus is the one in charge, not the flashiest sheep who has learned to play the popularity game and rig the algorithms.


Being part of the herd frees us in many ways. We don’t have to analyze the trends. We don’t need to figure out the latest ways to attract the attention of the most powerful people, the ones who will give us a job promotion or money or attention of some other sort. We just need to remember to listen for the voice of the shepherd, the one who has our best interests in his heart, the one who knows our deepest yearnings, the one who wants our flourishing. We need to remember to listen to and for Jesus, and the right flock of sheep can be instrumental in keeping us focused and helping us listen. If we’re lucky, we can find a community like the one described in our reading from Acts.




When Jesus calls himself the gate, he reminds us of what’s inside the gate: a flock of sheep who will help us stay true to the abundant life that Jesus brings us. That life begins in our current life. We don’t have to wait until we’re dead. But it can be hard to remember that the Kingdom of God is inbreaking and ongoing, right here and now, not in some later time. It can be hard to remember when the uglier parts of life are also crashing in right here, right now. As we saw with the road to Emmaus story last week, even if we know the voice of the shepherd, the horrors of the world can plug up our ears.


Luckily, Jesus is the shepherd who walks beside us, teaching us, reminding us of the wisdom we once knew—his wisdom.


Jesus reminds us again and again that he offers us something that the world can’t: nourishment, the spiritual water that will never go dry, and the safety of community. Jesus is the gate that opens to the green pastures and still waters. With Jesus as our shepherd, we can walk through the valley of death, we can face down evil, and we don’t need to be afraid.


Jesus is the gate, not the fence. Walk through that gate. Claim your community. Let your soul be restored.