Good Shepherd,
Berkeley 5/11/14
I am always in a
quandary when I preach on Mother’s Day. I myself am a mother, and it has
been the richest experience of my life. It was very important that my daughter
called me this morning, and later in the day I expect one or two long
worshipful essays on Facebook. But we are not all mothers- we do not all have
that experience in our lives. And there are many, many other beautiful
expressions of God’s love to celebrate besides that of mother. So the
celebration of Mother’s Day, I think, must be seen in perspective.
But whether or
not we have ever BEEN a mother, we have all HAD mothers, whether or not they
are still with us in body and in spirit. And inevitably, there is a way in
which one’s mother might recall either the acts of the Good Shepherd, or
perhaps some exemplary gate we might aspire to. My own mother was not a perfect
shepherd, but of course I adored her. My most enduring vision of her is as a
glamorous blonde lying back on a chase lounge, holding a cigarette in one manicured
hand while frowning intensely into her magazine. As a child I was not entirely
sure if she would ever lay down her magazine, let alone her life for me, but of
course I worshipped her anyway.
And she did give
me many gifts of good shepherdly abundance. My mother was the one who brought
me to the Episcopal Church as a child, and after a few years I was prepared for
confirmation. She bought me a white lace dress that was so expensive that it
occasioned a screaming fight between my parents. My father, to her fury,
boycotted the confirmation event as a result.
After the
service we came home, and in a few minutes our Priest, Don Seaton came storming
through the unlocked door.
“Where the hell
were you this morning Dave Gardner?” He roared at my father, who was seated in
his easy chair. I was thrilled. I ever after thought of that act of his as that
of a Good Shepherd- looking after one of his small sheep.
But for any
travails I had as a child, I was singularly blessed to enjoy my confirmation
classes and my schools, to be educated, to be taken care of, kept safe. No one
doubted that I deserved and would get an education. There was no danger in
this. No question about it.
But it seems
such things cannot be taken for granted anymore. The news story that has most
riveted my attention of late, describes the act of a group of thieves and
bandits who kidnapped almost 300 girls from the Chibok Girls’ Secondary School in Northern
Nigeria. These girls were targeted just because they were
seeking an education. The thieves who broke in to steal these girls, as they
were taking their final exams, belong to the terrorist organization, Boko
Haram, a word which means “Western education is forbidden”
To the great frustration of the
mothers and fathers of the abducted girls, the Nigerian government seemed
uninterested in doing anything at all. Many of the fathers of the girls,
unarmed and unsupported by their government went off to find the girls, knowing
the danger they faced.
In the voice of the Good Shepherd, they said,
“We are going to find our girls. And if we die, we die.” Slowly the word got
out, and slowly it became apparent that the whole world was watching. I have
now heard that President Obama has sent a team of military and law enforcement
agents to help the Nigerian government to find and rescuing the girls. To my
great relief we also now have Britain, France, Canada, and China pledging to
help as well.
They are at last following the lost sheep, even
into the valley of the shadow of death, because if they manage to rescue them,
they may be saving these girls from a death-like life.
This is the way of Christ the Good Shepherd. This
is the gate he bids us walk through. Thank God that there are those brave
enough to go through this gate, to risk suffering for, as Peter’s letter would
have it, God’s work.
The
terrorists and the girls are believed to be hiding in the vast Sambisa Forest
in northeastern Nigeria, so it will not be an easy task to find them. But in
these seemingly impossible situations, a Good Shepherd, someone of extraordinary
courage is often likely to arise. A gate, through which we might choose to
pass.
A Good Shepherd has indeed raised her strong
voice against this atrocity. She has an authority few would question, although she
is an unlikely heroine. Beginning at the tender age of 11 years old, she began
to write a blog, in the Swat Valley, in Northern Afghanistan near the Pakistan
boarder. She was inspired to write in protest when the Taliban began banning
girls from attending school. She had been blogging under a pseudonym, but
encouraged by a New York Times journalist, she revealed her identity. Her name
is Malala Yousafzai. She then rose to
prominence, speaking out against the ban in interviews in print and on
television and wherever she could.
She was soon nominated for the International
Children’s Peace Prize by Desmond Tutu. She was later nominated for the Noel
Peace Prize. But on Tuesday October 9, 2012, as she boarded her school bus,
Malala was attacked by a terrorist and sustained a gunshot wound to the head.
Although she lay in critical condition for
weeks, she eventually recovered, and went right on with her courageous work.
She continued to go through that Christ-like gate and follow her calling.
When she was asked in an interview is she was
afraid for her life, she admitted that at first, she was. She said she imagined
what she would do if a gunman appeared again. At first, she said, I thought I
would take off my shoe and try to hit him with it. But then decided that I must
not do that, because then I would be as bad as he was. So I decided I would say
to him, I wish for your daughters and sons that they have an education too, and
I would die for their right. Then, I thought if he wants to kill me, he will
kill me. When she stood before the United Nations, still recovering from her wounds,
she said, “One child, one teacher, one book will change the world.”
Malala also talked about a gate. She said that
having an education was like walking through a gate into a beautiful dream.
And as for her mother- what was she doing? As
Malala said these things, her mother was sitting close by, tears of pride and
joy streaming down her face. And her father, asked about his daughter said, “She
is not only our daughter. She is the whole world’s daughter now.”
Now that we know the sound of her voice, perhaps
we might all follow her.
Amen.
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