April 26, 2026
Good Shepherd Sunday, Pastor Jodi Houge
John 10: 1-10
The year after I graduated from college, I moved to Northern Idaho for a job in outdoor ministry. And about six months into that job, I got a letter in the mail (it was the 90’s and we wrote letters and sometimes waited six months for a reply). So I got a letter from my college friend, Matt, who told me he was working on a sheep farm in New Zealand. Which made Matt a legitimate shepherd.
Anyone who has led a youth trip or been a volunteer on a youth trip has also been a shepherd. Or a group of adults on a trip—which my experience shows is sometimes harder than shepherding youth on a trip because adults are used to roaming the world independently and now you want them to stay with the group.
Every year, we spend a Sunday considering what it’s like to have a Good Shepherd and contemplate our lives as sheep.
(Show pic)
Here is a pic of some of these confirmation students in a Christmas program from days of yore, dressed as sheep.
Two weeks ago, I was in Fargo with my family. My brother was diagnosed with terminal cancer in October and things had taken a sure and certain turn toward his last days. So we gathered in the ICU and surrounded him with love and songs and stories. Our aunt and uncle spent a lot of hours there in the ICU with us. My uncle is retired Lutheran pastor—super helpful in moments like this. And he said, “Do you know what Dietrich Bonhoeffer last words were?”
Confirmation students, here is where we sneak in one final lesson. Just under the wire. Dietrich was a German Lutheran pastor and theologian famous for his resistance to Adolf Hilter and the Nazi regime. He is one of our heroes of faith. Just days before the end of the war, Dietrich was hung in a concentration camp.
And Dietrich’s last known words were: “This is the end. For me the beginning of life.” Those words gave me comfort as my brother slipped from this world into the next. “This is the end. For me the beginning of life.
We are in the Easter Season around here. Which means it’s Resurrection Season. As Christians, we are resurrection people. Meaning we believe wholeheartedly there is life after. Life after death. Life after confirmation. Life after high school, after divorce, after you stop drinking, after your best friend dumps you, after a cancer diagnosis. Life after whatever has got you walking through the valley of the shadow of death.
Americans, we have been walking in that valley for a while. As Minnesotans, we have been in the shadow of death all winter. In addition to all the personal things you have had to bear. Some seasons are like this.
In 2026, we do not need be be convinced that we need a voice in our ears that lead us to something good.
There is so much noise clambering for our attention. How to you listen for the voice of the Shepherd? There are so many voices. And friends, most of them are not leading you to still waters and green pastures. As today’s Gospel says, they come to steal and kill and destroy. They do not have your best interests in mind. They take what is not theirs and their leadership instills fear. They quote the movie Pulp Fiction and pretend it’s Scripture, they arrogantly give the Pope theological advice, they come in the form of the wellness industry and convince you that somehow your body isn’t lovable or acceptable unless it’s thin, sculpted, jacked, young, able. They come with a message that you are one big improvement project.
We come here on Sunday mornings to listen for something else.
A telltale sign that it’s the Good Shepherd leading you is that even though you are in the hardest, darkest valley, there is a feast set before you. In the ICU, it was my niece and nephew running out to get everyone Dilly Bars. You will recognize this Shepherd because no matter the circumstances you will be led beside still waters and there are overflowing cups of grace and mercy. As you gather around whatever death you are experiencing, goodness is following you around.
This isn’t positivity or finding a silver lining in a bad time.
It is because this God of ours cannot help but lead us to life. It is Jesus’ nature to call us out of places of death.
Not long ago, we heard the story of Lazarus being raised the dead. It was Jesus calling to him, “Lazarus come out!” that raised him. Do you think that was a one and done? Jesus is still calling us out. Calling us to something new. Calling us to life.
After Jesus was killed and raised, Mary was hanging around the graveyard, weeping over his death. And Jesus meets Mary there and says her name. “Mary.” It was that moment that Mary recognizes Jesus and her whole life changed. The same voice who said Mary’s name at the tomb on Easter morning, says your name with belovedness: Nina, Tomina, Eden, Charlie, Annika, Eli, Ruby, Eva, Claire, Gretchen, William, Liam, Alexandra, Tayehu, Isaiah, Greta. God says you are mine and nothing can change that. The same God who walked along the road with the disciples on their grief walk to Emmaus walks with you every single moment of you life.
On Wednesday, the confirmands and their parents and some of the mentors gathered here. We ate together and celebrated this milestone moment. We came here to the sanctuary and practiced where to stand and sit. We had the class stand around the baptismal font and we practiced saying the Apostles Creed together. Do you believe in God the Father Almighty? After the first few lines, they group voted that it would best if we all said the creed together. We quickly realized that we want and need the support of an entire community as we make those claims.
Because faith is a team sport. A group project. Communal. There might be times in your life that you have trouble claiming some of those words, you might have trouble claiming, “I believe…” But someone else in this community will claim them for you. You might have trouble finding hope. Someone will hope on your behalf. You might have trouble praying, someone else will pray for you.
Wherever you are today on your journey of faith, God meets you there. And when you come to ending, may you find also find it is the beginning of life.