A Sermon Blog Post Based on John 10:11 and Psalm 23
Introduction: When Life Comes Down to What Matters Most
It was a few weeks ago that I found myself sitting beside someone who was passing away. My wife and I had gone to visit, and as we sat in that quiet room, I noticed something I’ve observed many times before: when people face the end of life, their concerns shift dramatically.
They don’t ask about their investments. They don’t worry about their retirement accounts or the state of the economy. Instead, they want to talk about relationships—their children, their parents, the people they’ve loved and sometimes hurt. They long for restored connections. They want to remember the things of their youth, the simple moments that shaped them.
And in that sacred space, this dear person found great comfort in the 23rd Psalm. So I read it aloud, as I had done many times before for others in similar circumstances. But this time was different. As the familiar words rolled off my tongue—”The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want”—I realized something unsettling.
I had become too familiar with these words.
Like a stone skipping across water, my eyes had been glancing over the surface of this text for years without ever plunging into its depths. I needed to slow down. I needed to dig deeper. And that’s what led me to spend time meditating on what it truly means when David declares, “The Lord is my shepherd,” and when Jesus takes up that same theme and declares, “I am the good shepherd.”
This message is for all of us—whether you’re saying goodbye to a loved one, or you’re young and trying to figure out whose voice you’re listening to in life. The question before us is simple but profound: Who is your shepherd, and whose voice is guiding your journey?
Part 1: The Wonder We’ve Lost
Let’s be honest with each other. When we recite Psalm 23, how do we say it? Usually, it sounds something like this:
“The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want.”
We say it like we’re starting a funeral. And don’t get me wrong—it is a psalm for funerals. It’s a psalm for people grieving, for those walking through the valley of the shadow of death, for anyone who has just received a difficult diagnosis. But somewhere along the way, we’ve drained it of its wonder.
Look at the Hebrew phrase: Yahweh Rohi. “The Lord is my shepherd.” Do you understand what you’re saying when you speak those words?
Let me put it in terms that might help us grasp the magnitude. Imagine if the tiny town of Sandpoint, Idaho—a lovely place, but not exactly a global sports destination—announced next week that Lionel Messi, arguably the greatest soccer player who has ever lived, had signed a two-year contract with the Sandpoint Community Soccer Club.
Can you imagine the reverberations? Sports journalists would camp out here. Hotels would spring up overnight. Sixty thousand people would show up for every game. Little boys around the world would be wearing Sandpoint jerseys. The whole world would be asking, “How did this happen? Why would Messi choose Sandpoint?”
That’s the kind of shock and wonder that should accompany our declaration that the Creator of the universe is my personal shepherd.
We’re not talking about some local guy down the road. We’re talking about the One who spoke galaxies into existence, who hung the stars in place, who formed the mountains and carved out the oceans. That One—the great I Am—is my shepherd.
He inspects me every day. He searches my heart. He knows the wounds I can’t heal for myself. He sets me on my feet when I’ve fallen. He guides me back to the fold when I’ve wandered.
The Lord is my shepherd isn’t a funeral dirge—it’s a victory shout!
The next time you say it, put some oomph in it. Put some joy in it. Hallelujah! The Creator of the universe takes care of this miserable sheep.
Part 2: What Shepherds Actually Do
You might not have spent much time around sheep, but I grew up on a farm in Ireland, and my uncle had a lot of them. Here’s what I learned: sheep cannot look after themselves. Period.
Sheep have all manner of diseases—rashes, ticks, little bugs that work their way up into their nostrils, lay eggs, and hatch in their nasal passages. Imagine having living creatures in your sinuses. The sheep will literally beat their head against a tree trying to get rid of that torment.
Sheep are creatures of habit. They’ll walk the same path every single day unless the shepherd forces them in another direction. That little path becomes a track, then a ravine, then filled with droppings, and soon the sheep have intestinal problems, worms, all kinds of trouble. They have a unique ability to destroy their own pastures.
Sheep need their heads anointed with oil daily—a mixture of tar and other things that coats their heads and stops bugs from getting into their nasal passages. That’s what the psalmist meant when he wrote, “You anoint my head with oil.”
And sheep lie down when they’re content. But here’s the dangerous part: when a sheep is full and content, it lies down and rolls on its side. And when a sheep rolls on its side, it can lose its grip on the ground. If it’s not careful, it rolls onto its back. And when a sheep is on its back—”cast down,” as shepherds call it—gases build up in its stomach. It can’t right itself. The blood leaves its legs. Within hours, that sheep will be dead.
That’s why the shepherd has to look for every sheep every day. He has to find the ones on their backs, turn them over, and then stand over them, massaging their legs to get the blood flowing again until they can stand. It’s intimate work.
This is what David meant when he wrote, “Your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”
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The rod was like a knobkierie—a heavy piece of ironwood with a bulbous end. The shepherd would throw it at a sheep to correct it, to bring it back to the flock. He would throw it at predators to drive them away. The rod revealed the will of the shepherd. The Bible is our rod—God’s revealed will that corrects us and protects us.
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The staff had a crook on one end. During lambing season, the shepherd used that crook to lift newborn lambs and reunite them with their mothers without touching them—because if he touched the lamb, the mother might reject it. The other end was sharp, used to part the thick wool and inspect the sheep’s skin for parasites. And for a sick, stumbling sheep, the shepherd would rest that sharp end gently on its back—a living connection, a constant reminder that the shepherd was still there, guiding every step. The Holy Spirit is our staff—our daily Comforter and Guide.
When the psalmist says, “The Lord is my shepherd,” he’s saying that the Creator of the universe does all of this for me. He corrects me. He protects me. He inspects me. He walks beside me when I’m weak. He knows my name, my history, my wounds.
Part 3: The Bad Shepherds
To understand the Good Shepherd, we first need to recognize the bad ones. Good is comparative.
In Ezekiel 34, God speaks against the shepherds of Israel—the spiritual leaders who were supposed to care for His people. Listen to what He says:
“Ah, you shepherds of Israel who have been feeding yourselves! Should not shepherds feed the sheep? You eat the fat, you clothe yourselves with the wool, you slaughter the fatlings, but you do not feed the sheep. You have not strengthened the weak, you have not healed the sick, you have not bound up the injured, you have not brought back the stray, you have not sought the lost, but with force and harshness you have ruled over them.”
The Waldensians, centuries later, would say something similar about the papal priests of their day: “They care not for the flock, only for the fleece.”
That’s the mark of a bad shepherd—using the flock for your own benefit rather than serving the flock’s needs.
In John 9, we see these bad shepherds in action. Jesus heals a man born blind—a spectacular, undeniable miracle. But when the Pharisees investigate, they’re not celebrating. They’re angry. Why? Because Jesus broke their rules.
He broke three Sabbath rules:
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He made mud (that was work)
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He applied the mud to the man’s eyes (that was healing)
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He actually healed the man (on the Sabbath, no less)
Their oral traditions—their “church manual,” if you will—had become more important than a transformed life. A man who had been blind from birth could now see, and all they cared about was that it happened on the wrong day.
They interviewed the man. They interviewed his terrified parents. And when the healed man stood his ground, they drove him out. They excommunicated him. They canceled him. They cut him off from his community, his livelihood, his social safety net.
Why? Because he refused to deny what Jesus had done for him.
Bad shepherds elevate human rules above God’s work. They silence truth-tellers. They punish those who question their authority. They claim exclusive rights to interpret Scripture and control access to salvation.
And let me be clear: I’m talking about what happened 2,000 years ago. But the warning echoes down through the centuries.
Part 4: The Beloved Sheep
Caught between the bad shepherds and the Good Shepherd is this man—this beloved sheep who was born blind.
He represents all of us, really. We’re all born into a fallen world with limited spiritual perception. We all stumble in darkness until the Light finds us.
Notice something beautiful: Jesus found this man before the man found Jesus. The healing happened in verses 1-6. The man’s growing faith unfolded through the rest of the chapter. Jesus was active in his life long before he knew who Jesus was.
Theologians call this prevenient grace—grace given to us in Christ Jesus before the foundation of the world (2 Timothy 1:9). God doesn’t wait for us to come to Him. He comes looking for us. When Adam and Eve sinned in the garden, God came walking through the garden calling, “Where are you?” He didn’t wait for them to find Him.
If you have a child who has wandered from the faith, don’t just pray that they’ll come back. Pray that the Good Shepherd is out looking for them right now, sending His Spirit to move upon their hearts.
Watch the journey of this man’s faith:
| Verse | What He Says | Stage of Faith |
|---|---|---|
| v. 11 | “The man called Jesus made mud” | Jesus is just a man |
| v. 17 | “He is a prophet” | Jesus is a prophet |
| v. 30 | “He opened my eyes” | Identifies as a disciple |
| v. 33 | “If this man were not from God, he could do nothing” | Jesus is sent from God |
| v. 38 | “Lord, I believe” (and worships) | Jesus is divine |
It’s a journey. It takes time. And we need to give people that time.
Too often, we want people to come to church as the finished product, declaring Jesus is God from day one. But that’s not how growth works. Give your teenagers the right to say today that Jesus is a man, and pray that tomorrow they’ll recognize Him as a prophet. Give them space to see His hand at work in their lives, to wrestle with questions, to grow at their own pace.
If we cut people off at the knees when they’re only at stage one or two, they may never make it to stage five.
This man paid a terrible price for his faith. His family distanced themselves. The religious leaders kicked him out. He lost his income as a beggar. He was canceled, disfellowshipped, rejected. He went through all of that before he could say, “I believe.”
Following Jesus can be costly. But the Good Shepherd is worth it.
Part 5: The Good Shepherd Himself
After the Pharisees cast out this man, Jesus reveals Himself as the Good Shepherd who came to seek and save the lost.
In John 10, we learn five things about Him:
1. He Enters Properly
Unlike thieves and bandits who climb in another way, Jesus comes through the gate. He is sent by the Father, not self-appointed. Contrast Him with Barabbas—whose name means “son of the father”—a false messiah who killed for his own glory. Jesus died for the benefit of the sheep.
2. He Calls His Sheep by Name
Every sheep has a name. In Wales, shepherds can direct their dogs to single out a specific sheep just by whistling. In Sri Lanka, after the tsunami, I helped tag water buffalo—a messy, personal, bloody process that marked each animal as belonging to someone.
Isaiah 43 puts it beautifully: “I have called you by name; you are Mine.”
Your name isn’t just a sound. It’s a summary of everything you’ve been through. The Good Shepherd knows your history. He knows your wounds. He knows you personally, not just as a number.
3. He Leads Them Out
The bad shepherds were about following rules. The Good Shepherd is about following the Master in loving obedience. Being a Christian isn’t rule-keeping—it’s a relationship. Only He can walk with us through the valley. Only He knows where the green pastures really are.
4. The Sheep Know His Voice
Whose voice are you following today? Fox or CNN? Twitter or YouTube? Political pundits or celebrity preachers? There are prominent voices on every side, but above them all, we must learn to recognize the voice of the Good Shepherd.
The job of a pastor isn’t to get people to follow the pastor. It’s to help people recognize and follow the Shepherd Himself.
5. He Lays Down His Life
This is the ultimate proof. The hired hand runs when the wolf comes. The Good Shepherd stands His ground and lays down His life for the sheep.
In His self-sacrifice, Jesus modeled true leadership. The world’s leaders seek personal glorification, using people for their own advancement. Jesus leads for the benefit of the flock, giving His life so we might live.
Part 6: The Blessings of Following the Good Shepherd
What do we gain by following Him?
First, salvation. Jesus says, “I am the gate; whoever enters through Me will be saved.” There is no other way to the Father. Not through religious systems, not through human philosophy, not through keeping rules. Only through the Shepherd who laid down His life.
Second, abundant life. “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.” This isn’t just eternal life someday—it’s rich, meaningful life now. He leads us beside still waters. He guides us to green pastures. He meets our needs. Did you know that shepherds lead their flocks to eat dew-wet grass in the morning and evening because that’s how sheep get their moisture without drinking from puddles that carry liver fluke and disease? The Good Shepherd knows how to nourish us safely.
Third, one flock. Jesus says, “I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd.”
Notice: He doesn’t say “one fold.” The fold is the enclosure—the denominational boundary. He says “one flock.” The flock transcends human divisions. What matters is not which fold you’re in, but whether you hear His voice and follow Him.
There have not been Seventh-day Adventists in every century. But there has always been a flock—those who listen to the Shepherd’s voice.
Part 7: Our Response—Testimony and Multiplication
So what do we do with all of this?
The man born blind gave a simple testimony: “One thing I know: though I was blind, now I see.” He didn’t have all the answers. He couldn’t debate theology with the Pharisees. But he had his story.
And you have yours.
Here’s a simple template I’ve used with groups to help people share their faith:
“There was a time in my life when I was ______, ______, and ______.”
(Three adjectives describing life before Christ)“But then I met Jesus, and He forgave me, and I chose to follow Him.”
(The two Fs: Forgiven and Following)“Now my life is ______, ______, and ______.”
(Three adjectives describing life with Christ)“Do you have a story like that?”
That last question invites the other person into a spiritual conversation. It’s not pushy. It’s not preachy. It’s simply an opening to discuss the most important things in life.
Here’s the thing: only sheep can breed. The shepherd can’t make more lambs. If we want a multiplying church, a growing flock, then we have to multiply ourselves. We have to share our stories.
Sometimes the only witness to the fact that you’re a Christian is your dog, because they know on Sabbath morning they’re not going for a walk. That’s a humorous image, but it’s also convicting. Does anyone else know?
We get so excited about presidential elections—wearing caps, posting on social media, going to rallies, arguing with friends. We get caught up in human messiahs who promise temporary salvation for two years until the midterms. But how much enthusiasm do we show for the Good Shepherd who offers eternal life?
The world is dying for something more meaningful than the next Super Bowl or the latest political scandal. People are hungry for purpose, for hope, for someone who knows their name and loves them anyway.
You have that Someone. Share Him.
Conclusion: Hallelujah! The Creator Is My Shepherd
So we come full circle.
The Lord is my shepherd. Yahweh is my shepherd. The Creator of the universe, the Wonderful Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace—He is my personal shepherd.
He knows everything about me. He does everything for me. He searches me and sees if there’s any wicked way in me. He leads me in paths of everlasting life. He fixes the wounds I can’t fix for myself. He takes care of those bugs in my nose and puts healing oil on my face.
There is nothing in my life that is hidden from Him. And because of that, I’m going to be a healthy sheep.
The next time you read Psalm 23, don’t say it like a funeral. Say it like you mean it. Say it like you’ve just discovered the greatest news in the universe:
“THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD! I shall not want!”
Put it on your bumper sticker. Put it on your t-shirt. Put it on your cap. Be proud—not of yourself, but of the One who knows you by name and does everything necessary for your eternal life.
I chose to follow the Good Shepherd when I was 13. I was baptized at 14. And every one of His promises has come true in my life. He laid down His life for me, so I know I can trust Him. And now He’s gone before me to prepare a home in heaven above.
If you’re grateful for what God has done for you—if you have a story to tell of His goodness—that’s the starting place for multiplication. Share it this week. Pray for someone to share it with. And end with that simple question:
“Do you have a story like that?”
Because the purpose of the church is to make disciples who make disciples. And you may have a good shepherd, but only sheep can breed. It’s time to multiply.
May God bless us as we follow the Good Shepherd. May He bless us as we seek to grow His flock. And may more and more people here in our community come to know and follow the One who calls them by name.
When He comes again, He’ll take us to dwell in the courts of heaven above.
Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.
A Prayer
Heavenly Father, we thank You that though there are bad shepherds, there is a Good Shepherd. We thank You that the Good Shepherd came to seek and to save that which was lost. We thank You that He promises to feed His sheep, to bind up the brokenhearted, to set prisoners free, and to proclaim good news to the poor.
Lord, teach us to recognize in a new and unmistakable way the voice of the Good Shepherd in our lives. Give us courage to switch off the voices of this world—the opinion makers, the influences on social media. Fill our minds primarily with Your teachings and Your words.
As we open our ears and our hearts to You, speak to us and guide us along life’s narrow way. This is our prayer in Your holy name. Amen.