Inside a Shepherd’s Heart

Psalm 23, John 10:1-10

Reverend Joe Cobb, MCC of the Blue Ridge

5.7.2017

As we were saying goodbye to each other

after last Sunday’s worship service, one of

you stopped going down the stairs, turned,

looked up and said, “what happened next?”

What do you mean? I asked.

You didn’t tell us the rest of the story. What

happened after you put on your suit, put on

your clergy collar, tucked your notes inside

your pocket, grabbed your rainbow boa stole,

and headed out the door to the courthouse?

Oh, I said. That.

Well, that sounds like a good place to start

next Sunday’s sermon.

And, here we are.

To bring you up to speed on a continuing

story, I spoke last Sunday of being

launched into the unknown by the stranger

who showed up at Emmaus, at a table there,

and a table here, who helped me recognize

an inner courage to stand with and for people

whose Love had been put on hold by the U.S.

Supreme Court until they could rule on same-

sex marriage.

As I walked along Luck Avenue toward

the courthouse, my mind was full of wonders:

I wonder if anyone will show up; I wonder if

I’ll trip over my words; I wonder if some couples

will show up not having heard the news about

the stay on marriages being upheld…

I turned and walked up the narrow alley behind

Oakey’s Funeral Home, through the parking lot,

and with the Courthouse in front of me, could

see some press starting to gather. I saw a very

distinguished looking African-American clergy

standing nearby, and introducing ourselves,

learned that he respected me, yet differed in

his understanding of scriptural interpretation

on marriage.

Frank House and Edward Doss showed up,

and together raised and held a banner for

equality behind me.

And then, shaking a bit from nerves,

I began:

When we deny two people of the same sex
who love each other and are committed to
each other the right to marry, we are limiting
the power and nature of love.

Love isn’t defined by gender or sexual orientation.
Love isn’t defined by color of skin or body type.
Love isn’t defined by power or coercion.
Love isn’t defined by wealth or poverty.

Love is defined by the beautiful introduction of one soul
to another, drawn to the inherent goodness of the
other, with a passion to bring forth the best
qualities of that love in an intimate relationship.

Love doesn’t like being put on hold,
because Love has a greater purpose
and that purpose is linked with justice.

That day I felt the presence of the Shepherd

urging me to open a gate, which previously

had not only been closed, but leapt over by

thieves seeking to rob some people by limiting

their expression and commitment of deep,

abiding love.

The day and the days following were not without

Resistance – one friend shared that the press

Conference was covered by the Roanoke Times

and the Charlottesville paper, and the comments

were, well, very diverse – ranging from many in

Roanoke who were certain this was ushering

in the apocalypse and those in Charlottesville

which were supportive of not limiting Love.

It was for me, a close look inside our Good

Shepherd’s heart – a heart full of love for

ALL his sheep, a heart willing to inspire a

once timid shepherd to don a rainbow boa

stole and lead those I love into an abundant,

just life.

The Shepherd calls his sheep by name

and leads them out…that they may have

life and have it abundantly.

Shortly after I moved to Roanoke, while

meeting as many people as I could to learn

about this place and how I might create a

life here, I met a beautiful soul named

Ann Masters, who was then Director of

the Clean Valley Council. Ann was the kind

of person who took you in with her beautiful

smile and southern grace, and when we were

talking about our mutual faith and my recent

leaving from the United Methodist Church,

she ever so gently asked:

How is it with your heart?

My heart is tender.

As I held Sally’s hand following her surgery

on Wednesday, I thought of the countless

times I’ve been at bedsides

praying for healing and holding one of you

close.

As I dipped my hands into the holy waters

of our baptismal bowl, and baptized a

beloved soul on Thursday evening, I thought

of the sacred moments when we have

remembered together that we are God’s

beloved with whom God is well pleased.

As I opened the closet in my office and

began sifting through years of memories

and ministry together I thought about

all the closets we’ve opened up, emptied out,

aired out, and walked out of and into new

lives of authenticity.

As I heard the front door open and close,

I thought of all the people who have entered

this place shaking in fear, wondering if this

would finally be a place of welcome, and those,

for one reason or another, who have left this place

wrestling with anger toward something this

Shepherd said, or knowing somewhere within

that the Good Shepherd had brought them here

to tend to their hearts and prepare them for the

next season of their lives.

Jesus came to call us by name and lead us

out into new pastures, so that we can have

new life and have it abundantly.

While it may seem better to close the gates

around our grief and protect the tenderness

of our heart’s aching and longing, I am not inclined to

let any thief or bandit deter me or us from

following the Voice of the One who is leading

us into a new prayer for abundant living.

What does this abundant life look like?

In his book, Crossing the Unknown Sea, poet

David Whyte tells this story of a conversation

with a spiritual guide named Brother David.

Having wrestled and wrestled with what an

abundant life would look like in his own life,

and after exhausting himself with high-speed

busyness in search of it, he asked what he

thought was a simple question:

Tell me about exhaustion.

Brother David paused, then answered,

You know that the antidote to exhaustion

is not necessarily rest?

David repeated the question aloud, and

then asked: What is it, then?

The antidote to exhaustion is wholeheartedness.

You are so tired through and through because

a good half of what you do here…has nothing to

do with your true powers, or the place you have

reached in your life. You are only half here, and

half here will kill you after a while. You need

something to which you can give your full

powers.

Living wholeheartedly is about courageously

and patiently giving attention to the ripening

of our authentic, spiritual, creative, loving

selves and living into the fullness of our powers

for good in this place and in this world.

And, it is always to be on the look out

for that which will seek to rob us of

wholeheartedness.

The Shepherd is calling us by name

and is leading us in to know that we are

loved, and leading us out…that we may have

life, abundantly.

Amen.