7^th May 2015

Rev Dr Max Champion at St John's UCA Mt Waverley Sunday 26th April 2015

Lessons - Psalm 23; Romans 5:6-11; John 10:11-18

     Jesus said, 'I am the Good Shepherd. The Good Shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.' (John 10:11,15,17)

These words, repeated three times in this short passage, are apt for the one hundredth anniversary of the Anzac landing at Gallipoli when, for once, we are reminded of sacrificial action that challenges our natural desire to have our needs met. These words remind us that 'dying for others' is a selfless act of love, courage and goodness in the service of God and humanity. 

On this day, words about 'laying down of life for others' are particularly relevant as we recall the terrible cost of war and the sacrifices made by millions of people, including family and friends, who tragically died for their fellow Australians and for humanity in the fight against tyranny. As Prime Minister Tony Abbott rightly said, 'We do not glorify war, but we honour the values the Anzacs embodied.' 

Often, however, words about heroism are taken out of context to suggest that dying for one's country is the highest form of sacrificial love. This conviction is expressed in inscriptions on Returned Services League and Church Honour Boards that 'They made the Supreme Sacrifice' for 'God, King and Country'. 

It does no dishonour to the memory of those who have died in war to say, emphatically, that the sacrificial love of Christ must not be mistaken for heroic deaths lost in a national cause - no matter how necessary, tragic or just. 

In 'The Four Loves', CS Lewis describes the importance of love for one's country while pointing out the dangers. Patriotism fosters commitment to citizenship beyond the individual, a sense of history and identity, love for real neighbours (rather than for abstract 'humanity') and a deep affection that both laughs at national foibles and weeps over national disgrace and humiliation. It is dangerous and demonic, though, when it fosters racial superiority or blindness to national faults, including the faults of those who died in battle. 

Lewis reminds us that, while we should appreciate the heroic sacrifices of those who died fighting tyranny, we must also think about those who died because they challenged national ideals in the service of the 'Good Shepherd who lays down his life for the sheep'. Jesus did not die for his country on the battlefield. Unlike Mohammud, he did not lead an army in Holy Jihad.

Unlike the Jewish freedom fighter, Judas Maccabeus (168 BC), he did not return the Temple to its true purpose by military means. He was crucified by his fellow countrymen as the enemy of the State, the Church, humanity and God. Unlike national heroes, Jesus died a dishonourable death! 

Such a fate was completely unexpected. The 'Good Shepherd' would bring an end to Jewish suffering by withstanding evil and defeating its perpetrators in a Righteous War in which their faith would be vindicated. Messiah would bring military victory against the forces of godless tyranny. Christ's sacrificial action in 'laying down his life for the sheep' adds a completely new and shocking dimension to the traditional picture of the 'Good Shepherd'. Where David the Shepherd-King risked his life to defend Israel in war, Jesus dies 'for the people', without use of military force. In this unique way the sacrificial love of God is displayed in Jesus. 

This is very puzzling. We do not have comparable examples to help us make sense of the strange power of divine love through death. As Paul puts it in Romans, even the most heroic deaths, in peace or war, do not adequately describe the significance for us of Christ's sacrificial action on the cross.

No analogy is adequate for an event that is without parallel in human history: when, by his death, Christ, the Good Shepherd, frees the whole of humanity from the power of evil and death. 

However, Anzac remembrance of the 'wounds of war', in which soldiers died to free us from tyranny, can help us to understand something of the way in which terrible suffering has a healing effect in the life of the community. As poet Bruce Dawe expresses it in 'Gallipoli', 'Gallipoli is a victory / that not all nations greet. / A strange paradox that finds / affirmation in defeat'.

Thus we are reminded that freedom and human dignity were restored because of sacrificial actions 'on behalf of others' that seemed to have failed in the face of evil but actually gave rise to hope. 

Anzac remembrance can help us to think about what it might mean to be 'healed by Christ's wounds', but it cannot break through to understand the unique reality that Jesus is the sacrificial self-giving of God for all. For, where Anzac Day commemorates the sacrifices of often very flawed heroes who upheld noble ideals and worthy causes, the Church celebrates the healing power of the One whose sacrificial life and death occurred without pomp and ceremony or public recognition. 

Yet, because Jesus Christ died in love for all flawed people, not only for our fellow countrymen, he has healed the deepest rift in the human community

- the rift between us and God. His sacrificial death, therefore, has greater power to transform our lives than even the noblest of heroic deaths. For, as Paul again says, he loves the ungodly of every nation, challenges the sin of every person and community and, remarkably, graciously restores us to fellowship with God. 

Therefore, on this hundredth anniversary of this increasingly important day in Australian public life, when we rightly give thanks for the bravery of men and women who died for our country in the cause of freedom and human dignity, let us give thanks even more for the One who 'lay down his life for the sheep'. The fact that he was crucified outside the walls of political and religious respectability is the mark of the absolute difference between his healing love and every other form of sacrificial action. 

This unparalleled form of sacrificial action is what the Church is called to proclaim in word and action - on Anzac Day and all other days. 

It is very surprising, therefore, that we pay more attention to heroic sacrifices on behalf of national or humane causes than we do to those who have been put to death in the service of the crucified Jesus. Perhaps we have unconsciously confused heroic deaths in war with those of the martyrs. 

Unfortunately in Protestant traditions, unlike Roman Catholic, Orthodox and Anglican Churches, we do not commemorate in the Church year the lives of 'martyrs of the faith' - people of courageous faith who have died because of their profession of faith in Christ and their refusal to obey national and military ideals. 

Thankfully, the Religious Liberty Network reminds us that many Christian communities around the world suffer persecution and murder on a daily basis.

It is particularly important to remember that the genocide of Armenian Christians began on the eve of Anzac Day in 1915 and to pray for Christians being persecuted in Syria and Iraq today. Such atrocities should alert us to the cost of following Christ, the Good Shepherd, and to be grateful for martyrs whose examples as shepherds of the flock have enabled them to stand against forces of religious and political tyranny. 

Therefore, as we remember terrible national suffering caused in military battles, let us not forget that the battle for faith in the sacrificial love of Christ is even more difficult and costly, especially in a country like Australia where, until recently, hostility has been more subtle but is now more strident. 

Let us not forget the distinctiveness of what Jesus the Good Shepherd has done in 'laying down his life for the sheep'. 

Perhaps something of the 'supreme sacrifice' of this Good Shepherd (John 15:13) may be seen if we transform familiar stories of heroic deeds in ways that we can scarcely imagine or comprehend. 

If Private John Simpson had crossed behind enemy lines on his donkey to rescue Turkish soldiers and died protecting them from Australian gunfire, we would have a better parable of Christ's death. 

If an Australian POW, having been appallingly mistreated by a Japanese officer, nevertheless saves him from death at the hands of a fellow prisoner, we would have a closer parallel to the death of Christ. 

This is not to denigrate heroic and sacrificial actions in war. But it does mean that the primary battle which the Church is called to fight is for the soul, heart, mind and will of our fellow countrymen. It is the battle to show others that the Good Shepherd, who is Lord of heaven and earth, died on the Cross for flawed and fallible people from all nations - including our national enemies! 

                                    Lest we forget!

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Rev Dr Max Champion is Minister in St John's Uniting Church, Mt Waverley, Victoria, Australia.

Dr Champion is a member of the Council of the Assembly of Confessing Congregations within the UCA.