Who do you say that I am?

title slide with photo of two churches

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry & Bluemont Presbyterian Churches
August 28, 2024
Mark 8:27-38

Sermon recorded at Bluemont on Friday, August 23, 2024

At the beginning of worship: 

Do you recall the old bumper sticker which read, “God is my copilot”? Did any of you have one on your car? Well, I hate to tell you this, it’s wrong. God, through Christ, should be our pilot. At best, we get to serve as a flight attendant. By the way, someone later corrected the theology of that bumper sticker with another one which read, “If God is your co-pilot, switch seats.”

Here’s the question for us to ponder this morning. Are we willing to get out of the pilot seat and turn the cockpit over to Jesus? 

Before Reading the Scriptures:

As we’ve seen, the first half of Mark’s gospel focuses on Jesus’ preaching and teaching, his healings and exorcisms as he travels the countryside. Anticipation builds as to Jesus’ identity. While Mark identifies Jesus at the very beginning of his gospel, this was information for the reader to tuck away.[1] The disciples are not privy to it. 

There have been those who have hinted of Jesus’ identity throughout the first half of the gospel, but not the disciples, nor do the religious leaders of the day understand.[2] Jarius with his dead daughter, the unclean woman who touched Jesus’ robe, and the Syrophoenician woman have a sense of Jesus’ powers. But do they even know his identity? The only ones who seem to get it are the demons, whom Jesus quickly quietens.[3]

In this passage, the major turning point of Mark’s gospel, Peter confesses Jesus is the Messiah. Our passage shows both sides of Peter. He gets it right and then finds himself rebuked. For Peter, this is personal and a little embarrassing. Some scholars think Peter served as one of Mark’s sources.[4] If so, it’s to Peter’s credit for in these verses we see both the honor and shame of the Apostle. 

From this point on in Mark’s gospel, Jesus focuses on his upcoming passion, his suffering and death. Peter, however, doesn’t want to hear any such talk. Jesus shatters his image of the Messiah. Yet, despite this, Jesus sticks with Peter. Let’s listen. 

Read Mark 8:27-9:1

We all want to be like Jesus, right? We’re in church so I expect your answer to be in the affirmative. But do we really want to be like Jesus? And if we’re sincere, do we have what it takes? Peter must have thought he had what it took. After all, he’s the one who hits the nail on the head, boldly proclaiming that Jesus is the Messiah. This is the apex of Jesus’ ministry in Mark’s gospel. Peter reveals Jesus’ true identity. 

Jesus and the disciples take a long walk north of Bethsaida.[5] As they enter Gentile territory, Jesus asks who people say he is. Leaders should ask such questions to understand their effectiveness. It’s part of being emotionally intelligent. We need such input. It helps us fine tune our way of relating with others.[6]  

And the disciples give Jesus some wonderful news. People have a high opinion of Jesus. Some say he’s John the Baptist (which would require a resurrection as Herod had him beheaded). Or Elijah or another prophet of old. Elijah seems to have been popular in First Century Judaism since he didn’t die but was swept away in a chariot of fire.[7] The Jews hoped he’d come back and set wrongs right.[8]

People think highly of Jesus, it appears. But being ranked up there with great men of the past denies Jesus’ uniqueness. He’s being placed into old categories, or to use one of Jesus’ parables, they put the new into old wineskins.[9]

Jesus then turns the table on the disciples, by asking them who they say he is. Ultimately, the gospel turns on our decision as to Jesus’ identity. Peter nails it. “You are the Messiah.” 

As he’s done many times in Mark’s story, Jesus tells them not to tell anyone. Jesus wants people to come to this conclusion themselves. Then he begins to talk about what’s ahead. And Peter, who wants Jesus to be a tough superhero, can’t bear it. Peter envisions the Messiah restoring Israel to her rightful prominence. He can’t handle this talk of death. 

Jesus then does something that catches everyone off guard. Turning to Peter, he rebukes him, “Get behind me, Satan.” In a matter of minutes, Peter goes from being on Cloud Nine to having his parade rained out. Jesus calls Peter, the guy who has been beside Jesus for some time, Satan. Jesus goes on to show Peter his fault. The Rock, as his name implies,[10] thinks like any other man. His thought process is no different than yours and mine or any other human.

Jesus’ plans don’t make sense to our way of thinking. We understand power. Like Peter, we could understand if Jesus picked up a sword and lead a campaign again the Romans. But that doesn’t happen. God’s ways are not our ways. With God, the weak and the meek inherit the earth.[11] But face it, that’s not the way things generally work out. 

At least Peter’s rebuke was in a semi-private setting with just the disciples and there off in Gentile territory. After these words, Jesus calls the crowd over and continues to teach. “If you want to be my followers,” he says, “you’re going to have to pick up your cross.” 

I envision those following Jesus being a troubled by what they heard. These are the hardcore supporters, who followed Jesus to Caesarea Philippi, a long day hike from where Jesus had set off.[12] These are the groupies who’ve taken off work to follow Jesus for a few days and now they’re in a town named after the Roman Emperor (who they hope to overthrow). Hearing Jesus talk some kind of nonsense about picking up a cross, I’m sure, caused some of them to say, “I’m out of here.” They know what it means; they’d seen those who had taken up arms against Rome wither on the cross.   

The late Will Campbell, an ordained Southern Baptist who referred to himself as a bootleg preacher, criticized the American church for teaching essentially, “Pick up you cross and relax.”[13]We’ve sanitized the cross to the point that it is safe to wear as jewelry. 

When Jesus says, “Pick up your cross,” he provides a vivid analogy. Rome freely employed the cross to terrorize slaves and residents of conquered lands. The cross was the ultimate deterrent—you challenge Rome, and you pay dearly. Those Galileans following Jesus may have seen it in action. They lived in a brutal world. When Jesus talks about crosses, they don’t have any romantic allusions to some fashion accessory.  

Bearing our cross is often used to express the difficulties we experience in life. But even here, we must be careful not to trivialize the cross. Jesus doesn’t refer the troubles we all experience. Instead, picking up the cross refers to the shame we may experience by placing Jesus above all our loyalties.[14] The cross was considered shameful. Loving the unloved of the world may also be considered shameful to those in power. But we must love because God, through Jesus, first loved us.

Jesus then continues with one of his paradoxical proverbs: “Those who want to save their life will lose it and those who lose their life for my sake and for the sake of the gospel will save it.” One commentator puts it this way: “To lose one’s life is to lose one’s physical existence, but to lose one’s soul has eternal consequences.”[15]

Where are our commitments? Are we committed first and foremost to our Savior Jesus Christ? Do we love him and those he loves?

This passage implies the possibility of martyrdom, not an option any of us would willingly choose. Yet, when we accept Christ’s call, according to Paul, our old-selves die as we receive new life in Christ.[16] In a spiritual sense, we all die as we leave our past behind and seek to become more Christ-like.    

Is Christ calling us to face martyrdom as this passage is sometimes interpreted? We don’t think about martyrs much anymore, do we? 

Brian Blount, a New Testament scholar, dedicated a good portion of his academic life to Mark’s gospel of Mark. Brian suggests that martyrdom isn’t exactly what our Lord calls us to. Instead, he’s calling us to be his followers. We’re to join him on “the way” as outlined in Jesus’ teachings. It’s the way of healing, of confronting the demons of the world, of being merciful and proclaiming God’s kingdom. All disciples are called to share in this work. 

We’re to follow Jesus, doing what he commands, which doesn’t necessarily mean death (even though it’s always a remote possibility). After all, aligning ourselves with Christ means we shun the values of the world.[17] This can be threatening. However, the most any worldly power can do is to kill us. However, as disciples, we don’t live for today.[18] We live for eternity. In the everlasting realms, the powers on earth are weak.

This understanding of picking up your cross as a call to follow Christ helps us make sense out of Jesus’ rebuke of Peter. “Get behind me, Satan,” is a command for Peter to take his rightful place as a follower. Peter, here, tempts Christ to deviate from his mission. As a tempter, Peter does the work of Satan, hence the reference. 

Do we want to be like Jesus? Then we must follow him, which requires love and commitment. We dedicate ourselves to something bigger than us. We put away our worldly ways of thinking. Unlike Peter, we conform our mind to the mind of Christ. We can’t try to change Christ mind to reflect our values. That’s playing the role of Satan, the tempter. Instead, we put Jesus and his kingdom first in our lives. 

Do we want to be like Jesus?  It is a difficult road. Love can be demanding. But remember, the rewards are eternal. Amen.


[1] Mark identifies Jesus as “the Son of God” in Mark 1:1. In 1:11, God also calls Jesus “my Son, the Beloved.” 

[2] Several of those whom Jesus helps understands Jesus’ power (and possibility) such as Jairus, the unclean woman, and the Syrophoenician woman

[3] Mark 1:25, 3:11, and 5:7.  See James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Mark (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), 245. 

[4] Edwards, 255. 

[5] We last saw Jesus in Bethsaida, Mark 8:22.  See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/08/18/open-our-eyes/

[6] Daniel Goleman has written extensively on Emotional Intelligence and the need for “360 Feedback”.  See Daniel Goleman, Emotional Intelligence: Why it can Matter More than IQ (1995). 

[7] 2 Kings 2:1-12.

[8][8] Edwards, 247.

[9] Mark 2:21-22.  See Edwards 257-248. 

[10] Matthew 16:18.

[11] Matthew 5:5

[12] Jesus was last at Bethsaida (Mark 8:22), roughly 25 miles due south of Caesarea Philippi, where he healed the blind man. See Edwards, 245 and https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/08/18/open-our-eyes/

[13] Will D. Campbell, Souls among Lions (Louisville; Westminster/John Knox press, 1999), 37.

[14] Douglas R. A. Hare, Westminster Bible Companion: Mark (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1996), 102. 

[15][15] Edwards, 257.

[16] Romans 6:1-6.

[17] Brian K. Blount, Go Preach!  Mark’s Kingdom Message and the Black Church Today (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 1998).  See especially Chapter 9.

[18] Matthew 10:18, Luke 12:4.

The Death of John the Baptist

title slide with photo of rocks along shore of St. Mary's River at DeTour Village, Michigan

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches
June 23, 2024
Mark 6:14-29

At the beginning of worship

Over the past twenty-some years, I have invested a significant amount of time reading Robert Caro’s lifetime work, a multi-volume biography of Lyndon Johnson. As he was President during my elementary school years, this work provides an insight into the world of my childhood. To date, Caro has published four volumes (which vary between 600 and 1200 pages). He takes the reader from LBJ’s birth through him becoming President at the death of John Kennedy, and the 1964 election. Along with a lot of other people, I’m still waiting on his final volume which takes us to this death in 1973. 

Caro’s interest in Johnson came from his study of how leaders use power. As with many people, Johnson is a tragic figure. He wanted so much to be President, but he also had a fear of being a failure like he saw his dad. His father may have been one the only honest politicians from Texas, and for which he suffered. Johnson couldn’t let that happen to him.[1]

When those in power abuse their position to maintain their authority, innocent people become victims. It happens today but it’s nothing new, as we’ll see in our scripture this morning. Those of us who follow Jesus have a higher calling than to just maintain our influence. We’re called to be truthful, to acknowledge our failures and sinfulness, and to realizes that regardless of what happens, we’re accountable to God. 

Before reading the scripture

As I’ve explained earlier in our work through the gospel of Mark, the book focuses on Jesus. There are only two passages in the book which isn’t about him. Both are about John the Baptist. The first looks at how John points to Jesus, so it’s still about Jesus. In fact, Mark’s introduction to John is more limited than what we find in Matthew and Luke because Mark wants us to focus on Jesus.[2]

The second place in the gospel where Mark diverts from talking about Jesus is when writes about John’s death. Mark inserts this story into the meat of one of his sandwiches, between the sending of the disciples out two-by-two and their return. Here, in these verses, Jesus isn’t mentioned, except that reports of his ministry caused Herod to fear that John had been raised from the dead. This passage is about how John’s death foreshadows Jesus’ death.[3]

Last week, we saw how Jesus sent the disciples out, two-by-two, to cover the villages of Galilee. While the disciples are away, Mark tells us this story. Immediately following this story, Mark’s metaphorical  sandwich is completed with a second slice of bread consisting of an announcement that the disciples have returned placed on top. 

Read Mark 6:14-29

Herod is paranoid. It seems to run in his family. His father, Herod the Great, fearing a rival, killed all the infant boys around Bethlehem after Jesus’ birth.[4] While the Herod in our story today likes to be considered a king, he’s not really one. That was a title conferred on his father. But Herod Jr (or Herod Antipas as he is known—and this is confusing for there several rulers who go by the name Herod in scripture) rules a fraction of the territory his father governed. The actual title given to him (which is used in the gospels of Matthew and Luke), is tetrarch.[5]

This Herod is cunning yet charming. Jesus refers to him as “a fox.”[6] Sounds appropriate. Foxes can be cute and a pain in the rear, especially if you have chickens. He lures his half-brother’s wife, Herodias,[7] to leave her husband and marry him. 

To take a new wife, Herod had to dispose of the wife who was the daughter of Aretas, another regional king. This enraged his father-in-law. It led to a war a few years later. Herod’s troops were defeated. A few years after this, and either because of his military loss or his insistence on being given the title of a king, Rome had enough. Herod and Herodias were exiled to Gaul[8] (which would now be France and parts of surrounding countries). 

John the Baptist called Herod Antipas on the carpet for his adultery. Today, political leaders don’t like truth-tellers when it goes against their self-interest, and it was the same way back in the first century. So, Herod had John arrested as we learned of early in Mark’s gospel.[9] John’s arrest set up the events for what happens in our story this morning. 

The entire Herod clan were decadent. They seem to enjoy lavish dinner parties and the one in our story must have been something else. Herodias’ daughter, from her first husband, does a wonderful dance. She delights her stepfather and the guests. So, Herod grants her a wish, up to half of her kingdom. 

She must have been young, for she runs and asks her mother what she should request. And her mother, who had willingly left her first husband for Herod, also had a problem with John. So, she asks her daughter to request the head of John the Baptist. 

We can’t blame the girl here. She’s just doing what her mother tells her, but we can blame the mom who uses her daughter for such an evil act. Such parents are terrible and should never be a parent. 

The request troubles Herod. But he’s a weak man and afraid how it would look for a so-called king to renege on his promises. He’s no better than his wife. He gives the order and John’s head appears on a silver platter. I wonder what happened to the appetites of the guest who witnessed the spectacle. 

By the way, this became a favorite subject for artists during the renaissance.[10] I haven’t seen or heard of any modern artists who have picked up on the theme, which is probably good. 

Herod, a weak and paranoid man, hears about the deeds and teachings of this wandering preacher in Galilee. He immediately fears the worse. He thinks John the Baptist has been raised from the dead. The way Mark inserts this story, we look back in time at John’s death, which had already happened. Mark has told us in the first chapter that Jesus’ ministry only began upon John’s arrest.[11]  Now that Jesus has become famous, Herod Antipas is fearful. 

The disagreement between John, Herod and wife parallels the Old Testament story of Elijah struggles with King Ahab and his wife Jezebel.[12] In both cased, the leaders are weak, and their wives encourage them to commit atrocities. In both cases, God’s prophet confronts the powerful. Elijah prevails, but John loses his head. 

There’s a parallel between John’s death and Jesus’ forthcoming death. In both cases, you have a man executed without having been convicted of a crime. Those who claim that Jesus is like someone else whom they think has been unjustly condemned overlooks this fact. Pilate, in whose hands Jesus’ fate was held, told the crowd that he found nothing to charge Jesus.[13] Nor was there anything legal about John’s execution. It was a weak leader abusing his power to fulfill a promise and not look bad. Jesus’ execution was because a weak leader wanted to avoid a riot and appease the crowds. Neither man was found guilty in court. 

There’s also a dissimilarity between what happened to John and Jesus. After his death, John’s disciples collect his body and provide a proper burial. Jesus’ disciples ran away and hid. It’s left to others, mainly Joseph of Arimathea, to bury Jesus.[14] Mark may have been offering a subtle criticism of Jesus’ disciples for abandoning Jesus out of fear.[15]

What can we learn from this story? First, as I pointed out, this is the center of a sandwich, fitted in between the disciples being sent on a mission and their return. Perhaps equating John’s death with discipleship, will help us understand what Jesus will later say in Mark’s gospel, that whoever wants to follow him must pick up their cross.[16] Discipleship comes with a cost, and sometimes that includes our lives. For we must put Jesus first, over everything. 

From the point of view of Herod, we learn not to write checks that can’t or shouldn’t be cashed. In other words, make no promises we can’t fulfill without resorting to evil. A simple promise to a young girl got him into trouble and ended John’s life. Perhaps this is why we’re encouraged not to make oaths and to just let our yeses be yes and our no nos.[17] Furthermore, we learn that character matters. The stealing of another man’s wife and the adultery it entailed has consequences. 

Finally, there are times when the faithful are required to speak truth to power even when it inconvenient or it endangers our lives. But if we don’t speak the truth, who will? We should trust God, place our hope in Jesus, and refuse to be intimidated by those in positions of power. Of course, that’s easier said than done. Thankfully there’s grace when we fall short. Amen. 


[1] I was reminded of LBJ’s struggle with failure in a post by Scott Hoezee, who introduced me to Caro’s biographies of LBJ. See https://cepreaching.org/commentary/2021-07-05/mark-614-29-3

[2] See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/01/07/marks-prologue-preparing-for-jesus-ministry/

[3] James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Mark (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2002), 183.

[4] Matthew 2.

[5] Morna D. Hooker, The Gospel According to Saint Mark (1991, Hendrickson Publishers, 1997), 159.

[6] Luke 13:22. 

[7] Many of the more reliable ancient manuscripts have Herodias as also the daughter, but Mark is confused. Joseph provides her the name Salome. See Hooker, 158.2 and 161. 

[8] Edwards 184, notes the banishment occurred in 36 AD, three years after Herod’s defeat but gives no reason. Hooker, 159, suggests that the reason for banishment had to do with Herod’s desire to be called a king. 

[9] Mark 1:14.

[10] See https://www.wikiart.org/en/Search/John%20the%20Baptist%20head

[11] Mark 1:14.

[12] See 1 Kings 16;29-22:40.

[13] See Matthew 27:24, Mark 15:12-15, Luke 23:4, 20-24, and John 18:38.

[14] Mark 15:32. See also Matthew 27:56-57, Luke 23:56, and John 19:38. 

[15] Douglas R. A. Hare, Westminster Bible Companion: Mark (Louisville, KY: Westminster, 1996), 75. 

[16] Mark 8:34.

[17] Matthew 5:37


full view of shoreline of St. Mary's River near DeTour Village, MI, during snow
Snowing along the edge of the St. Mary’s River, DeTour Village, Michigan

Christ the King

Sermon title slide with a photo of my dog, Mia

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches  

November 26, 2023
Ezekiel 34:11-24[1]

Sermon recorded on Friday, November 24, 2023. I laughed at the way the sun coming into the window made it look at is I had a white glove on my right hand.

Hugh Latimer, a Calvinist, served as Bishop of Worcester in the 16thCentury during Henry VIII’s reign. He was a leader in the English Reformation. King Henry VIII, until he couldn’t obtain a divorce, aligned with the Roman Catholic Church. One Sunday as Latimer prepared to enter the pulpit, he looked out and saw Henry sitting in the pews. 

“Latimer, be careful of what you say today. King Henry is here,” he heard whispered. But then, as he entered the pulpit, he whispered to himself, “Latimer, be careful of what you say today; the King of Kings is here.”[2] Latimer later suffer martyrdom at the hands of Bloody Mary.[3]

Today we’re reminded that like Latimer, we live out our lives in the presence of the true King, Jesus Christ. It’s Christ the King Sunday. That may not mean much to those of us who grew up in non-liturgical churches. After all, Christ should be our king 365 days a year. Make that 366 days next year—it’s a leap year. 

Before reading the scriptures:

As we heard in our New Testament reading,[4] as a king, Christ surprises us. He comes disguised as the poor, the needy, the sick, or one in prison.[5] We also think of Christ as the good shepherd, a common metaphor used for kings in scripture as in the ancient world.[6]  

As a day on the church calendar, Christ the King is relatively new. It was added roughly 100 years ago by Pope Pius XI. Protestants originally shunned the day as too sectarian.[7] In time, however, many Protestant churches adopted the day which falls on the last Sunday of the church’s year. Next week, with Advent, we begin a new cycle in the church’s calendar.

When he introduced Christ the King, Pius XI was concerned how the church should respond to the world. Mussolini ruled Italy and atheistic Communism threatened from Russia. Both demanded the worship of the state. A few years later, as fascism spread in Europe, a handful of Protestants took their turn at speaking out. A group of Reformed and Lutheran Church leaders in Germany published the Theological Declaration of Barmen in 1933. We’ll read from this Declaration as we profess our faith this morning after the sermon. For Christians, Christ is Lord and demands our ultimate allegiance.  

Now, proclaiming Christ as King isn’t a new concept. Scripture proclaims Christ as king. [8] Our Confessions lift his kingly role as one of the three offices of Christ, the other two being prophet and priest.[9]

My sermon this morning comes from a prophecy given to the Prophet Ezekiel. Ezekiel addresses the Israelites in exile in Babylon and lifts a vision of a new order. God will become the “shepherd” of his people. Of course, we who live on this side of the resurrection know the “Good Shepherd.” Read Ezekiel 34:11-24

###

Do you remember Calvin and Hobbes? There was one strip where Calvin was swinging on the playground at school. The bully Moe, who looks to be twice Calvin’s age and as one who may have repeated more grades than he’d passed, calls Calvin a “Twinkie,” saying “get off my swing.” Brave Calvin responds, “Forget it, Moe, wait your turn.” Moe responds with a right punch that knocks Calvin out of the swing and onto the ground. Pulling himself together, Calvin mumbles, “It’s hard to be religious when certain people are never incinerated by bolts of lightning.”[10]

I expect the Israelites in exile felt the same. Where was their God when the Babylonians stormed the walls of Jerusalem? Some lost their faith. But others remained hopeful. Ezekiel speaks to them with a promise. No longer will those in power lead; no longer will those who abuse others continue their terror. Instead, God will lead as a shepherd. As a true shepherd God will protect Israel. This passage contains both judgment and promise!

To fully understand this passage, we should look at the 34th chapter in its entirety. (Your homework assignment for today is to read the chapter in its entirety this afternoon.) The chapter revolves around the “shepherd allegory.” Kings were often called shepherds in the ancient world.[11] The shepherd image for a king implied one who cared and nurtured his subjects. Ezekiel uses this metaphor to highlight the hypocrisy of Israel’s kings, shepherds who “enrich themselves at the expense of the flock.”[12]

A perfect example of Ezekiel’s “bad shepherd king” would be the Czars of Russia. (Putin, Russia’s current leader, just follows their footsteps). Not only did the Czars rule ruthlessly, but they also became the richest monarchs in Europe. They did this while ruling over the poorest country of the continent.

Several years ago, I visited the Hermitage in Saint Petersburg, Russia. A home for the Czars, the place is incredible. It’d take a week to really appreciate all the collected artwork. But as I thought while viewing the treasures, “it’s no wonder the people revolted.” 

A good king is not one who lives high on the hog while his subjects starve. Rather, a good king is like a shepherd, one who helps protect his subjects from danger and leads in a way that they’re provided with fresh fields (or food) and running streams (or clean water). A shepherd is an appropriate name for such a leader.

Unfortunately, Israel didn’t have too many kings like this.  Surely, there were some who did a better job than others. But most looked out for themselves and for their friends, while allowing abuse of their citizens. This chapter begins with a condemnation of such wicked rulers, the “shepherds who have eaten of the fat and clothed themselves with the wool of their flocks yet have not fed the sheep.” 

This is what God promises beginning in the 11th verse. “I, myself,” God proclaims, “will search for my sheep.” God will be the shepherd. God will bring the people, who had been scattered at Jerusalem’s fall, back together. There will be a reversal of their misfortune. God will provide good pasture; God will strengthen the weak; God will heal the sick; God will bind the injured; God will seek the lost. By the beginning of the 16th verse, there seemed to be a balance between judgment and promise, but then there was a shift and God again speaks of judgment.

“The fat and the strong I will destroy,” says God. Notice the shift; God no longer talks to the shepherds, or the rulers. God now addresses the “sheep and goats,” members of the flock. We heard the same thing in our reading earlier from Matthew 25. Obviously, it’s not just the leaders who are abusing their power, but there are some “sheep and goats” who abuse others.

Have you ever watched animals eat and notice how the strong push aside the weak? Eternally, I should be concerned for my dog, Mia. Often when Caroline’s dog, Apple, needs a drink, Mia will decide she, too, needs a drink. Mia is much larger than Apple and will butt the smaller dog away and then drain the bowl. We feed them in separate rooms. Sheep, and other animals, are no different. 

Sheepherders spend a lot of time with the weaker animals trying to strengthen them. If an ewe gives birth to more lambs that she can nurse, the ewe will push away the weakest lamb. The shepherd will have to take that lamb and find another ewe, perhaps one with only a single lamb, to nurse. The sheepherder encourages an “adoptive bond.”[13] Otherwise, the rejected lamb will die. 

Without a shepherd, strong animals take advantage of the weaker animals. And we see such behavior even among humans. Without a good teacher, bullies in the classroom intimidate other students. Without good leaders, those with economic or political clout take advantage and oppress those without.  

Now that God has judged both the shepherds who have ignored the needs of their flocks and the sheep who, in the absence of the shepherds, abused the weaker ones, God returns to the future promise of a new shepherd. God and his servant David will rule and guide the flock. David, the former shepherd who became a king, will return to be God’s prince. The return of God’s king becomes the Messianic Promise spoken to Hebrews living in exile hundreds of miles from their home. God will gather the faithful together and lead them back home, and a king like David will return and rule justly.  

Have these promises of God been fulfilled?  Yes, some of them. And they continue to be fulfilled! A new shepherd, the good shepherd, was born in the city of David—the one you and I proclaim as Savior. We’ll celebrate his birth in five weeks! Yet, as we wait, we’re reminded over we still wait and long for the day proclaimed in scripture when Jesus Christ will return and rule. On that day, wars will cease, and every knee will bow and proclaim Christ as King. Until then, we pray, “Come, Lord Jesus, Come.”

Here’s a couple of things to take from this passage.  First, be reminded that bad people exist, as do bad shepherds. There are those who rule ruthlessly and those who use their power to exclude others. As followers of Jesus, we shouldn’t do that, nor do we owe such people allegiance. 

Next, there is a new day coming, one that will bring justice and hope. Ezekiel tells us that God will bring the bad shepherds and the bullies within the flocks to justice. Eternally, we have no need to fear those who abuse, for our eternal hope doesn’t rest in their hands, but in the hands of our loving Savior. 

Finally, as Christians, we long for that day when Christ returns, and his kingship becomes visible. We’re to proclaim this vision to a longing world.

If our allegiance really belongs to Jesus, if Christ really is our king, then we should be like Bishop Latimer and not fear the King Henry XIIIs who sit in our midst. Nor should we fear any other person who might be pushing us to ignore Christ and follow them. Nor should we fear the crowd who may mock our decisions. Instead, we place our hope in our King, Jesus Christ. Amen. 


[1] I preached this sermon, in a slightly different form, on November 20, 2011 and November 26, 2017.

[2] Robert F. Sims, “The Shepherd King,” in Under the Wings of the Almighty in “www.sermonsuite.com.

[3] Mary 1, was the daughter of Henry VIII and his first wife, Catherine of Aragon. She is also known as Mary Tudor and Bloody Mary, because of the number of Protestant leaders she had executed during her attempt to return England to Catholicism. 

[4] Matthew 25:31-46.

[5] From a sermon by Jim Somerville of First Baptist Church in Richmond, VA in 2017. See https://asermonforeverysunday.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/11/Jim-Somerville-Id-Have-Baked-a-Cake.pdf

[6] Meg Jenista, “Sermon Commentary for Sunday, November 26, 2023, Ezekiel 34:1-16, 20-24. See https://cepreaching.org/commentary/2023-11-20/ezekiel-3411-16-20-24-3/ For scriptural references see Psalm 23, 95, and 100. 

[7] David I. Kertzer, The Pope and Mussolini (New York: Random House, 2014), 84.

[8] Matthew 27:11; John 1:49:1 Timothy 1:17, 6:15; Revelations 15:3, 1:9

[9] “The Westminster Larger Catechism” Questions 43-45.

[10] Bill Watterson, Calvin and Hobbes (November 8, 1990).

[11] Jenista, https://cepreaching.org/commentary/2023-11-20/ezekiel-3411-16-20-24-3/

[12] Margaret S. Odell, Ezekiel (Macon, GA: Smyth & Helwys, 2005), 432.

[13] When birthing lambs, a sheepherder will often smear the placenta from the lamb born of a ewe in order to entice her to accept a second lamb to nurse and feed.

photo of Mia in a sweatshirt
Mia in my Bluemont Study