Non-Transactional Faith - Acts 4:5-12; 1 John 3:16-24; John 10:11-18

Last week, a parishioner observed that during Eastertide, we don’t read from the Old Testament. Instead we read from the book of Acts. As a lover of the Old Testament, I do miss the ancestors saga and wisdom of the prophets this time of year, but it’s important for us to hear and pray about how the earliest followers of Christ experienced the resurrection, and became the foundation for the Church we are still part of today.

We get to watch the apostles come into their own as community and spiritual leaders. We get to read along as the Church grows in size and we get front row seats for all the complications that bigger numbers bring. We get to witness the first Christians come to terms with the truly wild fact that their Messiah was raised from the dead. And, we get to witness them begin to understand what that resurrection means. It’s really quite relatable. 

In fact, the whole lectionary during the great 50 days of Easter lends itself to this flow of spiritual growth. We start the season with Gospel passages about resurrection appearances like the Upper Room and the Road to Emmaus. But then we start looking back to some of Jesus’ earlier teachings in order to make sense of this resurrection we've come to believe in. 

Take, for example, today’s Gospel passage about economics. Oh, I’m sorry, did you think it was about the good shepherd? What ever gave you that impression? In truth, they’re closely related. Stay with me. We’ve all heard the familiar phrase, “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” At first glance, it's a lovely, pastoral metaphor about how much Jesus loves us and how safe we are in his care. 

But this is the Gospel of John we're talking about. It's the Gospel that asks, why use ten words when we could use 110? And why reveal the whole truth in the first glance when Jesus could invite the reader into a deeper, more nuanced understanding of the Kingdom of God? We have to look more closely at this shepherd metaphor. 

Right off the bat, it’s important that Jesus doesn’t say, I am a shepherd. Jesus says, I am the good shepherd. One could argue this implies the existence of a bad shepherd. Now Jesus doesn’t actually mention a bad shepherd, but he does differentiate between the good shepherd and the hired hand. The hired hand abandons the sheep when there’s trouble because he doesn’t really care for the sheep. All we really know about him is that he was hired, so presumably, what he cares about is his paycheck.

Now y’all know me. And you know I’m not going to stand up here and speak poorly of laborers. The difference between the good shepherd and the hired hand is not that one is a morally righteous caretaker and the other is lazy and unfeeling. The difference is that the hired hand’s work, his relationship with the sheep, is transactional, but the good shepherd’s is not. It’s a totally different economy.

This is one of the handy models Jesus offers in John’s Gospel for life in the resurrection. We call them the “I am” statements, and the Church usually reads through them during Eastertide. According to this “I am” narrative, Jesus loves his sheep, each and every one of us, unconditionally, no matter the cost to him, which was great, and no matter how we respond, which is often poorly.

When we consider the good shepherd as an economic model, it may not make a lot of sense, because very few of our day to day interactions are not transactional. For me, this is particularly apparent on Saturdays. Since it’s one of my days off, I usually run errands. If I’m not intentional about reaching out to friends or family on Saturdays, I run the risk of going the whole day speaking only to people with whom I’m exchanging money for goods or services. 

Our economy is designed to serve the hired hand. That’s just capitalism 101. But the danger is that if we’re not careful, the way we participate in the economy seeps into our personal lives, our relationships, and even our faith. Friends become scorekeepers, tallying up who pays for which meals. Established professionals judge up and comers who seem to get ahead without first “paying their dues.” All of us resist helping others if it costs us money, time, energy, clout, comfort, or safety.

This hired hand behavior prioritizes personal satisfaction over covenantal relationships with the people around us, and we’re so enmeshed, it’s hard to imagine any other way of life. If we were to really lean into Jesus’ model of the good shepherd, it would change nearly everything about our lives and how we interact with the systems of our world.

This is precisely what happens in the early chapters of the book of Acts. The disciples and their growing community of friends begin to come out hiding, where they’ve been since their leader was crucified. But instead of reengaging with their society, they create a new one in the image of the resurrection. They let go of their attachment to personal property. They share common living spaces. They offer aid to those in need with no expectation of payment. 

The portion of the first letter of John we heard today takes this concept of a new society a step further by asking how could anyone who has the love of God not freely offer their resources, as if the old way of life, the hired hand way of life, has become totally nonsensical. What would our world look like if we all behaved this way? If we prioritized the community as a whole over personal gain? If we acted without caring about what we get in return? 

It’s difficult to imagine. We’ve come a long way from the earliest followers of Christ in Roman-occupied Jerusalem to late-stage capitalism in 21st century America. But perhaps that’s why we look back on the stories of Acts during Eastertide. If what we’re after is the life of resurrection, it’s a good place to start. 

Those early Christians were able to live in a totally new way because after the resurrection, the core of their faith lives shifted. They experienced, first hand, what the good shepherd meant about laying down his life for the sheep. They felt the true and unconditional love of God and their own hearts were freed from the grip of the hired hand. Their faith was no longer transactional, their love for God was no longer dependent on what they might get in return for their devotion, because they’d already received the greatest possible gift. 

While none of us can single-handedly shake up the American economy (we’ll leave that to Beyonce and Taylor Swift) we can be freed from transactional faith. We can learn to love God unconditionally without asking for things in return because we have already received the gift of the resurrection and the freedom and hope that it brings. 

The Good News of today’s scripture passages is that once we have shaken off the hired hand model of faith and start leaning into the good shepherd way of life, the rest of the world and all its broken systems will be no match for the resurrected Body of Christ.

So, did I convince you that the good shepherd story is about economics? No worries either way. Regardless of the model we’re drawn to for life in the resurrection, the challenge to escape a transactional faith is a difficult one, and as the book of Acts reveals to us during Eastertide, it requires the love and support of a community of faith and a deep dependence on the Holy Spirit to guide us. And if you have any more questions, never fear, the Gospel of John has plenty more words to help you out along the way. Amen.