Greeneville, TN
The Fourth Sunday of Easter
April 26, 2026
Today, we take a moment and step away from the familiar rhythm of resurrection appearances… Those wonderful encounters where Jesus meets his disciples in locked rooms, on dusty roads, and around shared tables.
We know those stories too well... How Jesus is recognized in the breaking of bread... how hearts burn as he opens the scriptures... how fear slowly gives way to wonder.
Today, our focus is on the words of Jesus in Chapter 10 of the Gospel according to John. A passage that is unexpected in the Easter Season. And, if we're honest, a bit more puzzling at first hearing.
Jesus is addressing a group of folks in Jerusalem that includes both his closest followers and those who are suspicious of him. He is standing within earshot of people who have just witnessed conflict over authority… Of who has the right to interpret God, and who belongs in God's community, and who does not.
That's the scene we're in…and Jesus paints a picture for us… A sheepfold enclosed by a wall or pen. A gate that provides the proper entrance. A shepherd who enters through that gate. And other figures who try to get in by climbing over the wall. The listeners gathered there would have recognized this scene immediately.
Sheep were often gathered into communal pens at night for protection. A gatekeeper would allow the legitimate shepherds to enter in the morning, and each shepherd would call his own sheep out of the mixed flock using his voice, and the sheep would follow because they recognized the shepherd's voice.
Here, Jesus doesn't begin with shepherding as we expect. He starts with a sheepfold, a gate, and the difference between those who enter rightly and those who do not. "Anyone who does not enter the sheepfold by the gate but climbs in by another way is a thief and a bandit." It's a striking image. There is this place where the sheep are gathered… a place of belonging, of relative safety.
And there is a gate, a proper way in. The one who enters through the gate is the shepherd. The others… those who sneak in, who bypass the gate… come with very different intentions. Jesus is naming, right from the start, that not every voice, not every leader, not every influence that reaches the sheep is trustworthy.
And that lands close to home. Because we live in a world full of entrances... full of voices trying to get our attention, shaping our thinking, claiming our loyalty. Some come openly, honestly, with care. Others slip in quietly, subtly, promising life but bringing something else entirely.
Jesus doesn't soften the language. He calls those who sneak in "thieves and bandits"... those who come not to care for the flock, but to take from it.
Then he says something even more intimate. Speaking about the true shepherd…He says, "The sheep hear his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out." This is where the image deepens. The shepherd does not drive the sheep. He calls them by name. And they respond—not because they are forced, but because they recognize his voice. And he leads them…
This is not about control. It's about relationship. And that's important to understand in a time like ours, when so much leadership (religious, political, and cultural leadership) relies on fear, urgency, and pressure. So many voices try to push us, to drive us, to tell us we must act now… think this way… fear that group… and secure ourselves at all costs.
But the voice of Christ is different. It is known. It is steady. It calls rather than coerces. And, as the passage tells us, the sheep follow "because they know his voice." Not because they are naïve, but because they are familiar with the one who leads them… leads them to good pasture and still water…
That raises a hard but necessary question for us… How do we recognize that voice? Can we distinguish it from all the others? Because Jesus also says, "They will not follow a stranger… because they do not know the voice of strangers."
Yet if we're honest, we sometimes do follow strangers. We get pulled in by voices that sound convincing... voices promising security, success, or certainty. Voices that tell us we don't need one another. Voices that encourage division, suspicion, even hostility.
We see it playing out all around us… communities fractured, public trust eroded, people increasingly isolated even while we are more "connected" than ever. The noise is constant, and it becomes harder to tell which voices lead toward life and which do not.
And it's into that confusion that Jesus speaks again, with one of the clearest declarations in the Gospel: "I am the gate." Not just the shepherd, but "the gate.
"I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture." This is a shift in the image, but it's an important one. Jesus is not only the one who leads; he is also the way to life itself. He is the place of safety... He is the point of passage between danger and nourishment, between scarcity and abundance.
To say that Christ is the gate is to say that life, true life, is found in and through him. Not through the competing promises of the world, not through fear-driven self-reliance, not through systems that divide and consume... but through relationship with the one who knows us and calls us by name.
And then comes that line in the text that echoes so powerfully in our day and age… "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly."
There is no neutrality here. It's no secret that some voices... some paths... some ways of being in the world diminish life. They take. They erode. They isolate. They leave people more fearful, more guarded, and more alone.
But others, grounded in Christ, lead toward abundance. Not abundance as excess or accumulation of stuff, but as fullness - as enough… A life marked by connection, by purpose, by love, by a deep and steady trust that we are loved and we are held.
That kind of life is not always easy. It doesn't shield us from hardship or uncertainty. But it is real. It is sustaining. And it is shared.
Because the sheepfold is not a place for one sheep alone. It's a place where we are called together. In a moment when so many forces in our world encourage separation, drawing lines, building walls, defining who is "in" and who is "out," this passage reminds us that Christ gathers. Christ calls. Christ leads us not into isolation, but into a community shaped by his voice.
And that has implications for how we live. It means we should listen carefully... not just to what is loud or urgent, but to what is true. It means we test the voices we hear, asking whether they lead toward life or away from it. It means we resist the temptation to follow those who would exploit fear for their own purposes.
And it means we stay close to the shepherd's voice… through prayer, through scripture, through the shared life of the community… so that, over time, we learn to recognize it more clearly. Because the promise of this passage is not that we will never hear other voices. It is that we are not left to sort through them alone.
The shepherd calls. The gate stands open. Life, abundant life, is offered. And so the invitation today is both simple and demanding... To listen for the voice of Christ. To enter through the gate that leads to life. And to follow, not as isolated individuals, but as a people gathered, known, loved, and led.
For it is there, in that following, that we begin to discover what Jesus means when he says, "I came that they may have life, and have it more abundantly."
