On the bookshelf just to the left of my writing desk, there is a small icon — a tiny reproduction of what’s called the San Damiano cross. The San Damiano cross is a crucifix painting. It has a cool place in the story of St. Francis of Assisi and I’d encourage you to go down that rabbit hole on wikipedia later, but that’s not what I want to highlight about it today. In the painting, Christ is depicted with his arms stretched out on the cross, but he is not alone. About his arms and above his head a company of angels is gathered, while beneath his arms and by his legs are a bunch of people: saints and centurions, Jews and Romans, those who followed Jesus and those who put him to death — all of them there at the cross, looking to me like Jesus has just stretched out his arms to gather them all together under his loving embrace.
Our epistle reading today reminds me of this little cross on my bookshelf. In it, Paul describes how the ‘dividing wall of hostility’ between Jews & Gentiles is ‘broken down’ in Christ’s body on the cross — how Christ’s self-giving love on the cross not only removes this wall but gets rid of the significance of ‘Jew’ & ‘Gentile’ distinctions before God all together. Jesus, Paul says, makes them into a ‘new humanity’, joining them all together as one in his Body, his Church. This is a radical thing for Paul to say. At the time of Jesus & the apostles, religious Jews would not even enter a Gentile’s house or share food with them, because they believed it made them ritually unclean. Many of them seem to have believed that Gentiles had no share in God’s promises, and that the only hope for a Gentile was to become Jewish — to undergo circumcision, abandon all Gentile ties, take on Jewish law, and formally become a member of the people of Israel. In their eyes, Gentiles were idolaters, worshippers of false gods, and — perhaps most importantly, as Israel had been under the dominion of Gentile rulers and empires for centuries — Gentiles were ‘the enemy’. The idea that Gentiles could have the same access to God as Jews, let alone the idea of becoming reconciled and united as ‘one Body’ with them, would have seemed insane; impossible; blasphemy. But this reconciliation, this love that breaks down divisions and turns enemies into neighbors is exactly what God in Christ came to give us.
In the gospel reading today, when Jesus gets off the boat and sees the crowd gathered, Mark tells us that ‘he had compassion on them because they were like sheep without a shepherd.’ These people were, in other words, lost without a trustworthy voice to guide them. They felt so in need of the compassion and authority they found in Christ that they rushed all the way around the sea of Galilee on foot, just to beat him to the shore. Thousands flocked from across the whole region just to hear a word of his teaching or to graze the fringe of his garment and be healed. These people, in the words of Jeremiah, had been ‘scattered’ between bad shepherds for a long while. At this time, the people of Israel were divided by religious and political leaders who strove with eachother for influence and power. The Pharisees and Sadducees, the Zealots and Essenes, the Herodians and the Roman occupiers — all of these leaders competed for influence over God’s people, all seeking, in one way or another, to wield the name of God to amass power for their own ideals and ends. All the while, very few of these ‘shepherds’ cared for the well being of their sheep.
Does this feel familiar? We live in a world right now that, to me at least, feels more viscerally ‘scattered’ and divided than it ever has in my lifetime. Genocide and wars rage across the world, inflation and economic changes threaten our sense of security, the ideological gaps between groups and generations seem to be widening. And all the while businesses, political leaders, and even many pastors play on our fears and uncertainties, exploiting all this instability to get us to buy, vote, follow, give ourselves to their cause. I know it is taboo in some spaces to talk even generally about politics at church, but the church is not immune to any of this. All too often do our nation’s leaders wield the name of God in an attempt to get us to believe it is our ‘Christian duty’ to give our money and support to their cause, portraying their political or ideological opponents as enemies of God and God’s people. All too often do political leaders and pastors collapse their faith with their political platform and wield their pulpits to convert their congregations to their political party rather than to Jesus. Our people, our churches are torn apart and scattered between these false ‘shepherds,’ and we are taught, subtly or explicitly, to think of those who disagree with us as our enemies.
We are often exhausted and desperate in the midst of all this turmoil, and just like in the gospel, Jesus comes and looks on us with compassion, offering a different way, the way Paul speaks of in today’s epistle: the way of reconciliation and humble love. Make no mistake, it is the duty of all Christians to do justice and love mercy, to oppose injustice and oppression wherever we encounter it — at work, in our families, on social media, and in the voting booth. But our ideologies and our politics must be ruled by our commitment to the way of Christ — not the other way around. There is only one true shepherd, and if we are to be his sheep, we must be willing to oppose injustice and violence when it affects our enemies as well — to offer compassion even to those whom we cannot stand. Being a part of Christ’s body means being joined to everyone in Christ’s body, even and especially those who we disagree with and think of as our enemies. Jew and Gentile, remember? We all are like sheep without a shepherd, and our wounds and fears and desperation drive us all to seek security somewhere or another. Those who we consider our enemies are just as desperately in need of Christ’s compassion and healing as we are. If we are to be Christians, then we must learn to love as Christ loves. After all, Christ gave himself over to death to draw all people to God, even those who persecuted him and killed him.
In times like these, the Church must not give itself to a false shepherd by pledging its allegiance to a leader or political platform, nor can it remain silent, afraid to engage with the divisive and painful challenges of our times. The way of Christ requires that we seek to honestly address the evils and wounds we inflict on one another, that we call one another to repentance and the renewing of our minds. And it also requires that we follow our one, true shepherd in the way of love, hearing and extending compassion to those with whom we disagree, extending that humility and healing love that Christ gives us — that love which has always been the only thing that can tear down these dividing walls between us. Among all the other figures, that little cross on my bookshelf shows the centurions who cruelly gave Jesus vinegar to drink and stabbed him in the side right there alongside Mary and some of the apostles and saints — all of them, together under the arms of Christ.
May we be the sheep of this good shepherd and cling to his voice in these tumultuous times. May we remember that, in God’s Kingdom, division and despair do not have the last word. And may the Holy Spirit shape each of us into instruments of Christ’s peace, that we might give this world the gift of love that it so desperately needs. Amen.