"WE ARE NOT ALONE" (THE GOOD SHEPHERD)

Psalm 23; John 10:9-18     04/26/2026

The 23rd Psalm is often called the Shepherd’s Psalm. It begins with words many of us know by heart: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters.”

I have read this psalm at hospital bedsides and at funerals. In those sacred moments, people cling especially to its opening and closing words—words that offer comfort in the face of fear, grief, and death. Many have memorized it. I have seen lips moving along with mine as I read it aloud.

Personally, I return to Psalm 23 at the end of my prayers before going to sleep. Our Wednesday Bible study group has also begun memorizing it together. I encourage everyone to do the same. This psalm becomes a prayer when words fail us. It gives us language to pray for ourselves and for others.

Psalm 23 paints a beautiful picture—but that picture comes into even clearer focus in the Gospel. In John 10, Jesus declares, “I am the gate… I am the good shepherd.”

Jesus tells us that there are two kinds of shepherds. On the surface, they may look the same. Both have weathered skin from the sun, both carry a staff, both walk among the sheep. But when danger comes—when wolves appear—the difference is revealed. The hired hand runs away. The true shepherd stays.

Jesus says, “I lay down my life for the sheep.” That is the difference. The good shepherd does not abandon the flock. He does not save himself at the expense of the sheep. He gives himself for them.

That is our good news. No matter what valley you walk through, no matter how dark the night, the Good Shepherd will not leave you. You may feel alone, but you are not abandoned. You may feel afraid, but you are not unguarded. The shepherd walks with you—even through the valley of the shadow of death.

Psalm 23 reminds us that God’s care does not remove us from trouble—it meets us in the middle of it. The table is prepared “in the presence of my enemies.” The shepherd leads us through the valley, not around it.

And in John 10, Jesus warns that there are “thieves and bandits.” They come to steal, kill, and destroy. But Jesus says, “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”

The word Jesus uses for life here is not just physical life. It is a deeper life—a fuller life—a life rooted in God. It is the kind of life that can exist even in hardship, even in uncertainty, even in suffering.

Let me share an illustration.

A traveler once visited the Holy Land and came upon several flocks of sheep gathered together at a watering place. To his eyes, it looked like one large, indistinguishable mass of white wool. He wondered how in the world the shepherds would ever separate them.

But when it was time to leave, each shepherd simply called out. And one by one, the sheep lifted their heads, recognized the voice, and followed their own shepherd. The flocks separated with surprising order and peace.

Jesus says, “I know my sheep, and my sheep know me.” The Creator of the universe knows you by name. He knows your fears, your struggles, your hopes. And the question for us is this: Do we recognize his voice?

Sometimes we don’t. Life gets noisy. We become busy, distracted, even afraid to listen—because we suspect he may call us somewhere we do not want to go. But still, the shepherd calls. Patiently. Faithfully. Lovingly.

And there is more. Jesus says, “I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also.” The Good Shepherd is not exclusive in the way we often fear. He is not guarding the gate to keep people out—he is opening the gate to bring people in. His flock is wider than we expect. His grace reaches farther than we imagine.

Even in Psalm 23, the table is set in the presence of enemies. Even at the Last Supper, Jesus shared bread with the one who would betray him. The presence of outsiders, even enemies, does not limit God’s grace—it reveals it.

The Good Shepherd welcomes, gathers, and restores. But the shepherd not only comforts us—he also calls us.

It is not enough that we simply remain sheep. Christ is calling us into the roll of shepherd. One day, Jesus asked Peter, “Do you love me?” Peter said, “Yes, Lord, you know that I do love you. Then, Jesus replied, “Feed my sheep.” If we are to be faithful, there is no alternative.

In other words, it is not enough for us simply to remain sheep who are cared for. We are also called to become shepherds who care for others.

To follow Christ means sacrifice. The Good Shepherd laid down his life. And if we follow him, we are called to give ourselves—not in grand gestures alone, but in daily acts of love, service, patience, and compassion.

The world is full of people who feel like sheep without a shepherd—lost, scattered, and searching. And Christ calls his church to go after them, to care for them, to love them.

Because in the end, this is the heart of the gospel: The Lord is our shepherd. He leads us. He stays with us. He knows us. He gives us life—abundant life. And then he sends us out to do the same for others. May it be so for you and for me! Amen.

Prayer of the People

Good Shepherd,
you know your sheep and call us each by name.
We come before you with our prayers for the world you love.

We pray for those who walk through valleys of grief, illness, or fear.
Be their comfort and their strength.
Lead them beside still waters and restore their souls.

We pray for those who feel lost or forgotten,
for those without guidance or hope.
Call to them, and help them hear your voice.

We pray for your Church,
that we may faithfully follow you
and reflect your care for all people.
Make us shepherds to one another,
ready to serve, to listen, and to love.

We pray for our communities and our world,
where there is division, bring unity;
where there is violence, bring peace;
where there is need, bring provision.

We pray for those we name in our hearts now…
(Silence)

Gather us all into your flock,
and lead us in the way of life abundant.
Through Jesus Christ, the Good Shepherd. Amen.