The Rev. Robert Lundquist / Celebration / 10/9/05 / 10 AM / St Paul’s, Ft Collins

On this day we remember Matthew Shepard and his death by violence - violence born of hatred and intolerance - on Monday October 12, 1998. The Offertory anthem today was sung the weekend before he died, and is sung again today in his memory.

Matthew was an Episcopalian. The Rev. William Bacon, long-time Rector of St. Paul's, ministered to Matthew and his family while Matthew was at Poudre Valley Hospital. Matthew's uncle worshiped at St. Paul's the day before Matthew died.

St. Paul's proclaims God's radical love for all people, and welcomes everyone.

[Ken Shrum]

A Prayer attributed to St. Francis

Lord, make us instruments of your peace. Where there is hatred, let us sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is discord, union; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy. Grant that we may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen.

Psalm 23 is familiar to us all. It is second only to the Lord’s Prayer as the most memorized portion of the Bible. We sang Psalm 23 this morning [Hymn 664, The Hymnal 1982]: “My Shepherd will supply my need, His goodness faileth never…” More familiarly, “The LORD is my Shepherd, I shall not want.” As we pray the psalm we may think, “Gee, these sheep have it made. Green pastures. Still waters – did you know that sheep are unable to drink from flowing water? In order for them to drink they must be led to still water. Straight paths – no getting lost in the bends of the road. And security – the rod and the staff. The rod was a cudgel or club, to protect the flock from predators. The staff was what we know better as the shepherd’s crook. It is the sign of office of the bishop. It is hooked at one end, to rescue sheep that have fallen into crevices, or to pull them, guide them in the necessary direction. The other end of the staff is pointed, the better to “encourage” wayward sheep.

The life of the sheep, as portrayed in the psalm, seems pretty bucolic. No worries. But it dawns on the reader that perhaps it is a scarier world described than we first realize:

There is a Valley of the Shadow of Death to traverse. It’s a journey that must be made. The promise is that the Shepherd will not abandon the sheep, even on a trip that is necessary.
As the imagery shifts from sheep to human, from field to table, we realize that the table is spread in the midst of enemies. Any dining that takes place is done in some anxiety, even as the cup overflows and the head is anointed in blessing.

Psalm 23 paints a more realistic picture of the world we recognize than we might have realized. It’s a world in which are we are accompanied, not cocooned. It’s a world in which we are shepherded, not sheltered. It’s a world populated by predators and enemies…

Which is why we recall Matthew Shepard today. In the world acknowledged by the psalmist, Matthew was slain. Seven years ago this week he lay dying in Poudre Valley Hospital. St Paul’s was blessed in having the opportunity to minister to Matthew and his family. His mother Judy Shepard told me that she is honored by our commemoration of Matthew today, though she is unable to be with us. We recall Matthew’s death – by fists and by hate – that we may refute hatred of all kinds in the name of Jesus, by the love of God. We remember that we might speak, act and live the Good News of Matthew’s acceptability, our acceptability, as creatures made in the Image of God.

For you see, Matthew Shepard was killed because he was gay. How we respond to his death tells us more about ourselves that we perhaps wish to know. His death stands as an indictment of a broken and sinful world. And how we respond, in word and example, tells the world about Jesus.

Today’s Gospel lesson tells about “The Good Shepherd.” Some have mentioned that the title sounds a bit underwhelming to our post-modern ears. One can almost imagine a straight-A student shepherd, which falls short of fulfilling. Former Archbishop of Canterbury William Temple wrote in 1939 of the Good Shepherd as “The Beautiful One.” “Good” falls short, he said – better to say Attractive, Magnetic, Comely, Beautiful, Magnificent. For Jesus was not merely “good” at being a shepherd. He was the most beautiful, the most attractive, the most magnificent Shepherd of all time!

“The sheep know me,” he said. All of us who didn’t grow up around sheep ask, “How?” How do the sheep know the shepherd? By the voice, the unique whistle, the special turn sung or played on a flute. Before voicemail and test messaging, before instant messages and email, the sheep knew all they needed to know – the Shepherd’s voice. In faith we practice hearing the Voice – in worship, in Bible study, in prayer, in contemplation. We teach our children to hear the Shepherd’s voice. We teach each other to hear – and to respond to – the Shepherd’s voice. It is a most magnetic and comely voice. It is the voice that calls us – not, ultimately, to green fields, but to God’s eternal presence.

“There would I find a settled rest, while others go and come;

No more a stranger or a guest, but like a child at home.”

[Hymn 664, words by Isaac Watts (1674-1748]

Amen.

A Parish For All People!