I remember how I – when I was a child visited my grandmother and grandfather – would sometimes sit for hours in the upstairs room staring out of the window.
They lived on an old farm on top of a hill and from the window you could in the horizon see Ejsing Church and Limfjorden. It was a beautiful view.
Next to the window was a big picture. A big picture of Jesus as a shepherd surrounded by sheep. When I was a child one of our subjects in school was Christianity. And I knew the story of Jesus as a shepherd from one of my lessons.
Every lesson our teacher would read from the Bible, and we were to draw what we heard. I loved the classes. Not because I was a good painter. But because it was relaxing listening to the various stories of Jesus.
The painting was for sure part of the reason why I could sit in that upstairs room for hours. Just staring. Staring and thinking. Thinking of me as being carried. Carried throughout life.
My grandmother and grandfather had a lovely garden. They even had sheep meaning that I often would take my thinking with me outside and believe that their garden truly was the garden of Eden.
But as it is with moments like this where we believe to find ourselves in such divine places, something comes in and takes us away from these moments. The moments cannot last forever. At least not until the final realization of the Kingdom of Heaven.
What most often took me away visiting my grandmother and grandfather was the sudden noise from the tractor. My siblings had once again persuaded my grandfather to give them a ride. I hated that noise.
Another thing that could take me away from the idyllic atmosphere was my grandmother and grandfather telling stories from the Second World War.
One such story that really stuck to my mind was how my grandfather told me that they did not have rubber tires for their bikes back then. All rubber went to the Germans. They used ropes glued to the wheel instead.
I had just learned to ride my bike back then, which was probably why that has always been the story of the war that I remembered them telling the most. What a ride, I thought, not least because most of the roads where my grandparents lived were gravel roads.
I recalled all these memories as I prepared for today’s service. Partly because of the biblical readings being about God as the Good Shepherd. Partly because we are celebrating the 80th anniversary of the Liberation of Denmark during today’s service.
And as I recalled these childhood memories, I started to think about how the readings about God being the Good Shephard talks to us in different ways depending on the moments we find ourselves in.
In moments of peace and quiet – in moments as the one I described from me sitting in the upstairs room of my grandparents’ farm – the readings fill one with hope and joy. God is not a hired hand who runs off every time things get too troublesome.
No. God is with me. Sharing his peace with me. Enabling me to sit just wanting to cry and give praise to God’s wonderful creation.
But in moments where the engine of the tractor is turned on – in moments of war and turmoil – the readings talk to us in a different way.
What before gave cause to praise now gives cause to hope. Hope that one once again will be carried by God as one of God’s sheep. In turmoil one finds oneself astray. Or at least not close to.
And it need not be because of any wrongdoing oneself has committed. Sometimes we just find ourselves astray because of what other people force upon us.
And currently there are a lot of such things: War in Ukraine, war in Palestine, global trade war, broken alliances.
As we today celebrate the 80th Anniversary of the Liberation of Denmark, I would like to encourage all of us to live in hope as we go through the current troublesome times of the world.
Jesus is our shepherd. Not a hired hand. But our shepherd. And God will once again carry us in his arms giving us reason for praise in his loving, caring, and peaceful embrace.
God ‘will seek the lost’, and God ‘will bring back the strayed’. God ‘will bind up the injured’, and God ‘will strengthen the weak’. In times of trouble that is something that we can always hope for.
We just had an election here in Canada. Meaning that we just entrusted some people with power. As with any democratic election, not all agree with the people who have been entrusted with most power.
This is how it is. But democracy for sure is the best rule of all. One difference between politicians and Jesus that stroke me as I prepared my service for today was, that whereas politicians – ideally at least – work toward the perfectness of some set ideals, Jesus works in a completely different way.
Because Jesus does not work toward perfectness. Rather, Jesus wants to deal with all that is imperfect. Jesus wants to unite. And not with the goal of changing all imperfect into something perfect. This might be a consequence of faith, but it is not the goal. The goal simply is to show love and share mercy.
Reflecting upon this difference, I guess what I want to say is that working towards perfectness is all we as humans can do. But since we as humans are imperfect – however not only politicians and influencers, but all of us for that matter want to portray ourselves – our results will always be lacking. Our results will always have flaws. Our results will always be imperfect.
I guess only what does not have to strife towards perfectness is perfect. I guess only God can realize our deepest desire for always finding ourselves in peaceful surroundings. In God’s warm embrace. In the upstairs room of our grandparents. In surroundings where stories of war, machines of industrialization, threats of climate change, and noise from social media are all non-existent.
Dear everyone,
I wish all of you a good Liberation Day. May it be a reminder of how we as humans are not perfect. But also, a reminder of how we should not demand others that they are so.
Let us instead meet in hope or praise – whatever our mood – and celebrate the one that is perfect – our shepherd. Not a hired hand, but the creator of all.
Let us share a moment of peace together. A moment of peace that we always can look back at with joy and praise.
In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
Amen.