In my first year of preaching, Good Shepherd Sunday gave me the occasion to use a bit of information that I had picked up from a missionary. In the highlands of Papua New Guinea, according to my source, no sheep had ever set foot. But the people had an animal that supplied a vital part of their diet and that had been sacrificed to their gods. The pig. As the hymn before the sermon, we sang “I am Jesus’ Little Lamb,” and I suggested that for us city folk, who generally regard pigs as dumb and dirty—they are in fact quite smart and do take care to keep themselves clean—, it might be clearer if we sang, “I am Jesus’ little pig.”

The words “it is finished” may be uttered as a postlude, a sigh, a song of relief that the suffering has come to an end, that the mission of coming to the cross to die for sinners has been completed. The way it turned out, Jesus’ “it is finished” functions as a prelude. Mission accomplished, sins gone—and then on to the follow-up. Jesus sets out to reclaim life for his people by rising from the dead.

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall (trying to climb to new heights, where no Dumpty had ever gone before, despite the “no sitting on this wall” sign). Humpty Dumpty had a great fall (no wonder—he had fair warning). All the king’s horses and all the king’s men could not put Humpty Dumpty together again. It took the king himself, who surrendered to those who smashed and shattered his broken body. The king himself gave his body to be broken for those who had broken their own bodies and lives by doubting his Word and defying his lordship. The king himself triumphed by putting himself back together again and rising to restore his people to wholeness and perfection in the sight of his Father and ours.

Countdowns bring with them a certain amount of suspense, but we usually do not start counting days or minutes or seconds until we are quite sure that the goal is in sight. We usually think of Advent as the church’s time of expectation. But Easter has also opened up a certain expectation that has changed the way we live our lives. For Christ’s bursting open his tomb set the clock ticking on the tombs we shall someday occupy. The baptismal promise that we will share his resurrection sets us free to live a life dedicated to him. That makes our lives truly human lives as we trust in God’s counting the days till we join him in life that will never end.

Carrying something heavy strains our muscles, exhausts us, sometimes overwhelms us to the point of collapse. Weight comes in various forms, and what has piled up the pounds serves as a good image of the feeling we get when we have to bear misfortune of any kind. “Weight” serves as an apt analogy for the sense of vulnerability that our fears produce. 

“She’s arrived.” “He is finally there.” “I see them coming.” Waiting is difficult as tension rises, and doubts nag: Will she ever get here? Did he forget to start out? Whoops, I thought it looked like them on the horizon.

The German translation of “kindness” is “Freundlichkeit,” treating other people the way you treat a friend. The French describe “kindness” with words such as “gentilesse,” gentleness, or “bonté,” being good to others. The Spanish brings kindness together with loving others, “amabilidad.” “Kindness” embodies the attitude that fulfills the Lord’s command to treat others in the manner that we would like others to treat us. The word “kindness” expresses what it means to be human, for God’s kindness to his frail, failing, fallible, faithless, failed human creatures has reversed human history, as Paul recounts in Romans 5.

A profound sense of disquiet and discomfort has fallen upon the people of the United States. Rising prices, political assassinations, and random school shootings, the tone and content of public discourse have combined to confront us with the natural consequences of living out what we all want when we sing “I did it my way.” We turn in on ourselves, to use Martin Luther’s description of sinners, and try to “go it alone” or “stand on my own two feet.” We find ourselves alienated and isolated from those around us, from the weaker whom we lean on for support despite our wanting to stand on our own two feet, and from the stronger, who also are searching for someone to lean on without regard for the fact that they are crushing us.

Anticipation! The opening of a new school year, the first day on a new job, the first visit to a new vacation spot—countless are the situations we experience that build a sense of expectation of fresh vistas, different events, or strange places. A bit of intensifying excitement or mounting impatience often accompany our anticipation of what we have known was coming with the promise of adventure or enjoyment. Anticipation also can fill us with uneasiness, even fear, but even then, hope for alternative futures flash into our minds.

In late 2009 the status of the Euro seemed up for grabs because of unstable economies within the Euro zone, and common people shared the anxiety of economists about the future of the currency. At that time Chancellor Angela Merkel of the Federal Republic of Germany observed, “the most important currency in the world is trust,” not just trust in the currency but trust in the leaders who direct the economies it serves. People peering into the future did not know what was going to happen. Some doubted whether any good lay on the horizon, a worry that today we know was quite unjustified.

I have come to give life and to give it to the full,” Jesus said (John 10:10). These words occur in the midst of Jesus’ description of himself as the good shepherd, whose care of the sheep overflows through his own putting his life on the line to protect his sheep from wolves and thieves. His picture opens the floodgates so that we can glimpse his overflowing self-sacrificial love as he lays down his life for those whom he knows as his own.

The words “holy,” pleasing,” “good” are big words, not in terms of the number of letters they contain, but in terms of the size of the ideas they represent. They crack the boundaries of our imaginations and dribble—or rush—into the darkness beyond. There is more to each of them that meets the eye, or ear, for that matter. We grasp for their form and shape, but they elude us.

Forever is a long time. Forever moves beyond time. And we are going to be repeating the song a long time and beyond, the song that praises the God of deliverance, the Lamb of sacrifice, who came back from the dead.