The Good Shepherd and Lazarus

 

Chapter 10 of the Gospel according to John, is a continuation of chapter 9. It is not trivial. Generally, the content in which Jesus announces that he is the good shepherd is read separately from the content of chapter 9, that is, the masterly narration of the man born blind in the pool of Siloam that receives sight by a creative intervention of Jesus.

In fact, the last verse of chapter 9 contains a direct discourse. It is Jesus who speaks. The first verse of chapter 10 continues the direct discourse. It is always Jesus who speaks. We should not even close the quotes and reopen them immediately afterward. It means that the Evangelist kept strictly together the episode of the man born blind and the discourse of Jesus about the exemplary shepherd.

Let us set this context. We are at the center of the book of signs, the part of the Gospel according to John in which seven fundamental signs of the work of Jesus are presented. The first two have characterized the cycle of institutions. The rest underline the intervention of Jesus in favor of people: The paralytic begins to walk; the people in the desert are fed; Jesus walks on the sea reaching the disciples; and in Jerusalem, he creates the possibility of seeing to a man born blind.

From chapter 7 to chapter 10, all the movements, actions and words of Jesus are in the context of the feast of Tent. This great feast was celebrated and continues to be celebrated in Jerusalem six months after Passover. The full autumn moon characterizes this festive moment that lasts a week in remembrance of how Israel remained in the desert and dwelt under tents during their exodus from Egypt. It becomes a feast of the providence of God in which one remembers the blessings that the Lord granted by liberating the people.

During this feast, Jesus speaks to the people, dialogues even in a controversial way with the Jews risking being stoned. He flees from the temple and passing by; he sees a man born blind. He gives him the possibility to see. And this man, through a journey of faith, comes to adhere to Jesus. He prostrates himself before him. He adores him saying, ‘Lord, I believe.’ It is the model of the catechumen, of the one who prepares for baptism and arrives at the full encounter with Jesus. Pharisees who witnessed the event criticize the fact; they feel in some way offended by the words of Jesus. “Does it mean that we too are blind? If you were blind, you would not have any sin. But from the moment that you have the presumption to say that you see, your sin remains.”

And here begins chapter 10. “Truly, truly, I tell you, who does not enter the sheepfold through the door, but enters through another part, is a thief and a brigand.” Jesus is talking to this group of Pharisees whom he criticized for their spiritual blindness. Now he widens the horizon and uses a symbolic image. The sheepfold where the flock is collected and the role of the shepherd who enters through the door for bringing out the sheep. The first part of chapter 10 focuses on this very important image in which Jesus attributes to himself the title of the shepherd. It is an important quality.

In the ancient world, the shepherd is the title of the king. The kings were called shepherds of the peoples, in the east and also in the west. Even in the Iliad, the supreme commander of the expedition Achaea, Agamemnon, is habitually called the epithet’ poimena laon’ – shepherd of peoples. But in Israel, this royal image of the shepherd ended up being attributed to God.

“The Lord is my shepherd,” that emblematic Psalm of a faith that recognizes to the Lord and only to him the title of shepherd overcoming the monarchical idea of earthly kings responsible for other people. To say that the Lord is the shepherd of Israel, that the people are the flock of his pasture, is a traditional detail of the biblical faith.

Jesus makes a sensible change in this language. “I am the beautiful shepherd.” In general, we translate as ‘good shepherd.’ Still, in the original Greek, John uses the adjective ‘kalòs’ not ‘agazos.’ Therefore, it does not correctly emphasize goodness as much as beauty, however, not in an aesthetic sense but an exemplary sense. We are taught as children the beautiful hand is the right, and the child using the left hand to greet is wrong. We will say to him, ‘no, use the beautiful hand.’ It is not that one is more beautiful than the other. We too often use the adjective beautiful in the sense of excellence and of exemplarity.

Jesus is the beautiful shepherd, not because he is a handsome person, but because he is the exemplary shepherd. The beautiful one, the model which all the others must follow, the prototype. It is the starting point. The man Jesus qualifies as the exemplary shepherd attributes to himself a divine title. Therefore, it is an extraordinary claim, re-enters that provocative language with which Jesus does not explicitly say ‘I am God,’ but qualifies as God and therefore, reveals the claim that was unheard of. He is the shepherd as God is. And he is the exemplary shepherd because he is God. He has the attitude of God towards people. And he is the one who passes through the door while the others who went before him are thieves and brigands. They come to take away, to steal, to destroy. As a shepherd, he came to give his life so that they may have life in abundance.

Two very important affirmations we find in this discourse. The usual formula ‘I am’ is a theophoric expression; he is the bearer of God. ‘I am’ is the name of God in the Old Testament. Usually in the Jewish tradition is Adonai, the sacred tetragram which means ‘I am.’ And Jesus uses it in a strong sense. ‘I am.’ Sometimes in the text we find it is written in capital initials. Both ‘I’ and ‘A.’ It is against the rules of our language grammar. It is precisely to help the reader understand that the expression ‘I am’ is not simply a verbal pronoun, but it is the very name of God. ‘I am the door,’ ‘I am the shepherd,’ two complementary images.

The door is an instrument of communication. And Jesus is the one who connects heaven and earth, God and people. He is the door, and to get to God, it is necessary to go through him. God arrives at people passing through Jesus. The leaders of the people who do not want to go through Jesus are termed thieves and brigands. He is the exemplary shepherd because he brings into history the same style of God. He came to give his life so that people may have life in abundance. And he brings out the sheep from the fold.

In Greek, the term ‘aulé’ which is translated as an enclosure, also indicates the classroom, the court, is a term that can indicate the Temple or the royal palace. Even in the English language, ‘aulic’ means a high-ranking environment, the royal court. To take the sheep out of the enclosure is an image of the exodus. Jesus is drawing the sheep of Israel out of the oppression of a negative religious structure. He is liberating the people from the bondage of the law. He is doing an exodus and is gathering a universal flock or other sheep that are not of this fold. Even those, he says, he must lead so that the whole of humanity becomes one flock with one shepherd who is Christ. Immediately after this discourse, John the Evangelist speaks of another feast, that of the dedication of the Temple which took place in winter, a few months after the feast of Tents, always in Jerusalem. It is a winter feast where it is cold, and Jesus makes a discourse relating to the coldness of the feelings of Jews who do not accept to be his sheep. He takes up again the previous discourse and reaches the definitive break. They pick up stones to stone him, but Jesus goes away. He disappears; he escapes from their hands. He returns to Transjordan to the place where John first baptized. And here he remained. Jesus runs away and hides in the Jordanian bush. It is an important narrative detail that we do not find in the Synoptics. John specifies these movements of Jesus. Several times he went to Jerusalem, several times he went away from the holy city.

During the feast of the dedication, let us say, towards the end of December, Jesus withdraws from Jerusalem and takes refuge in an uninhabited area with a very intricate bush where usually fugitives took shelter, the outlawed people who did not want to be found. At the streams of the Jordan, it was the environment where John began administering the baptism of repentance. For some time, Jesus and his disciples live there outside the known environment until something important happens.

And it is this what is narrated in chapter 11. A certain Lazarus of Bethany was ill, the brother of Mary and Martha. All three were friends of Jesus, his resting place when he was in Jerusalem. And the sisters in front of this severe and sudden illness of the brother send a message to Jesus. Evidently, friends know where he is hiding. It is simple communication. “The one whom you love is sick.” And Jesus, as the Evangelist John describes clearly, is aware of the gravity of this disease. And yet, he does not move. He lets a few days pass.

After which, he tells the disciples his intention to return to Judea. It is very dangerous – they point out to him. ‘A little while ago, they wanted to stone you, and you are going there again. You are putting your life at risk if you return to Jerusalem!’ And Bethany is located a few kilometers from Jerusalem. It is easily accessible from the city. It is a serious risk. Jesus expresses his desire to go and call back Lazarus from the dead. The disciples do not understand. They think he is simply speaking of sleep. Jesus must reveal to them that Lazarus is dead. At this point, it seems useless for the disciples to go. ‘You could have gone earlier when he was still sick, but now that he is dead, there is nothing more to do.’ And Jesus instead decides to go precisely because Lazarus is dead and intending to call him back to life. He waited for a few days, just waiting for him to die. He did not want to intervene before death. But he left for the last the most glorious sign.

The resuscitation of Lazarus is the seventh sign and the climax of the book of signs. It is the symbolic action closest to reality that Jesus performs. I said resuscitation. I prefer this term over resurrection because it is good to use the term resurrection only for Jesus. Jesus has risen from the dead and no longer dies; the resurrection of Jesus is the definitive overcoming of death. He did not go back; he went further. He did not stop in the world of the dead but arrived in the world of God. This we call resurrection. And what happened to Jesus will also happen to those who belong to Jesus in the final eschatological phase. What happened to Lazarus or the 12-year-old girl or the son of the widow of Nain or some others in the Old Testament is a different case. If we call it resurrection, we risk creating confusion.

Lazarus comes back to life. We can use the term ‘reanimation’ thinking not simply of a coma but an authentic, actual death. Lazarus has been dead for four days and has already been placed in the tomb. And when Jesus wants to remove the tombstone, the sister complains, she exclaims it already has a foul smell. It seems finished. It is impossible to do something for him. The work of Jesus is to give life back to Lazarus, but Lazarus goes back. He does not rise in the glory of eternity but returns to earthly life. He resumes his everyday life; that is, he resumes eating and sleeping, he gets old, and after some time, he will die again. And therefore, it is only a sign; it is not the solution to the problem. It is not the victory over death. It is the manifestation of the power that Jesus has to overcome death. It is simply a delay of the problem.

In this long and splendid account, the Evangelist shows a journey of faith on the part of the two sisters. And Martha in the Gospel of John makes the highest profession of faith that we can find: “I believe that you are the Son of God who came in this world.” Jesus used, in this case also, a theophanic formula. ‘I am the resurrection and the life.’ We note that he does not say ‘I give the resurrection’ or ‘I raise to life,’ but ‘I am the resurrection’ because I am life. Only God is life. He exists in himself. ‘I am the possibility of living in fullness. Whoever lives and believes in me will not die forever.’

It is a great profession of divinity and the gift of divine life to humanity. Martha and Mary accept it. Yet, they remain weak in their faith and remain perplexed at the opening of the tomb. Even Jesus has a moment of perturbation, and the Evangelist notes that he burst into tears. Why did Jesus cry in front of the tomb of Lazarus? Don’t tell me simply out of emotion because his friend Lazarus is dead. He knew it in advance. He remained beyond the Jordan, waiting for him to die. He let him die for a purpose. He came intending to call him back to life. So now, a few minutes before giving him back his life, he needs not get emotional thinking that he is dead. That weeping must be explained in another way.

Jesus is aware that this gesture is the drop that will spill the pot. Giving life to his friend Lazarus costs Jesus his life. That powerful creative word ‘Lazarus come out’ became for Jesus the forfeiture of his own life. The dead listens to him, comes out of the tomb carrying the funeral cloths, comes out bound like a mummy, still a prisoner of the world of death and is freed later. But that gesture infuriates Jewish authorities, his opponents. And it is the opportunity to decide the physical elimination of Jesus.

In that cry, Jesus shows all his human solidarity with ours; he shows being an authentic friend who gives life to his friend and is willing to lose his life. And from this moment begins the final phase, the last moment of his existence. We are in the imminence of Passover, and it will be the Passover of death and resurrection of Jesus, the actual fulfillment that the signs had evoked.