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§27 Jesus the Good Shepherd (John 10:1–21)

The brief exchange between Jesus and the Pharisees in 9:39–41 is only the beginning of a discourse extending (with one interruption) through most of chapter 10. The pattern found in chapters 5 and 6, a miracle followed by a discourse interpreting it, is maintained here as well. What chapter 10 interprets, however, is not the healing of the blind man as such but the events that followed the healing, that is, the former blind man’s expulsion from the synagogue and his confession of faith in Jesus. Two contrasts dominate the chapter: the contrast between the Pharisees and Jesus as shepherds of the people and the contrast between the Pharisees and the former blind man as recipients of Jesus’ message.

Jesus’ address to the Pharisees has two parts (vv. 1–6 and 7–18), each introduced by the characteristic formula I tell you the truth (vv. 1, 7; cf. 1:51). The first is called a figure of speech (or “parable,” v. 6); the second makes use of the parable’s imagery in two different ways to present yet again the claims of Jesus (vv. 7–10, 11–18). The figure of speech, however, is not what is sometimes designated by the term “parable” (i.e., an imaginative story expanding on a metaphor, often with a surprise ending). Instead, it is simply a generalized description of a scene from a familiar world in first-century Palestine, that of shepherds and sheep herding. Like many of Jesus’ stories in the synoptic Gospels, it could be called a parable of normalcy in that it describes what normally takes place in certain everyday situations. Fasting, for example, is normal when someone dies, but not at a wedding celebration (Mark 2:18–20). Doctors are normally for sick people, not those who are well (Mark 2:17). New wine belongs in new bottles (Mark 2:22). Closer to the imagery of the present passage, if a sheep falls into a pit even on the Sabbath, its owner will pull it out (Matt. 12:11). If a shepherd loses track of even one out of a hundred sheep, he will leave the rest to fend for themselves and go out looking for it (Luke 15:4). If not everyday actions, these are at least normal responses to life’s emergencies.

The figure of speech in verses 1–5 is of the same type. If we see a man climbing over the wall of a sheep pen to get at the sheep, instead of through the gate, it is probably fair to conclude that he is not the shepherd or owner of the sheep (v. 1). The real shepherd enters by the normal way; the gatekeeper (probably an associate or subordinate shepherd) recognizes him, and even the sheep know the sound of his voice. He in turn calls his sheep by name, and because they know his voice he has no trouble driving them out and leading them to pasture (vv. 2–4). This is all normal procedure, but if a stranger tried to lead them out in similar fashion, they would run away from him, frightened at the unfamiliar voice (v. 5).

The point of this brief glimpse of rural Palestinian life is not at once clear. For the moment, the reader can sympathize with the Pharisees (cf. 9:40–41) who heard Jesus tell the story but did not understand what he was telling them (v. 6). There is definitely a contrast between pseudoshepherds and the real shepherd of the flock (v. 1). The contrast is an ancient one in Judaism, as ancient as Ezekiel 34, with its denunciation of Israel’s false leaders (34:1–10) and its proclamation by God himself that he will assume the role of Shepherd over his people (34:11–31). In Jesus’ story, three things distinguish the true shepherd from the false: He enters by the gate, the gatekeeper lets him in, and the sheep recognize his voice. That the most important of these features is the third is shown by its reiteration in verses 3, 4, and 5. The true shepherd, in contrast to a thief and a robber (v. 1), is the one whose voice the sheep recognize and to whom they listen. Applying this understanding to the preceding narrative of the man born blind, we might conclude that Jesus is vindicated as the true shepherd by the fact that the sheep (i.e., the formerly blind man) listened to (and followed) him and not the Pharisees.

This conclusion would have merit if the question being answered by the parable were, Who is the true shepherd? (the answer being, the one who is accepted by the sheep). But the validity of Jesus’ mission in John’s Gospel does not depend on his being accepted by anyone. He is assumed to be both Messiah and true shepherd of Israel regardless of how people respond to him. If this is so, the question to which the parable is primarily addressed is not, Who is the true shepherd? (the answer being obvious—Jesus) but, Who are the sheep? (the answer being, those who hear and obey the true shepherd’s voice). Not shepherds but sheep are being tested in this chapter. Not Jesus but his hearers are on trial. The man born blind proved himself one of God’s flock by trusting in Jesus. How will it turn out for the Pharisees who listen to this story? Jesus has already pronounced them guilty (9:41), and the subsequent discussion will only reinforce that verdict. It remains for Jesus to apply the language of the parable to the ongoing confrontation between himself and the religious authorities of Judaism. The result is not one unified interpretation of the parable but a number of different echoes and extensions of its imagery.

This section of the discourse is introduced by the formula I tell you the truth (v. 7) and terminated by the Jews being divided (Gr.: schisma) over what Jesus has said (vv. 19–21). It has two subsections, each introduced and punctuated by I am pronouncements. The first of these (vv. 7–10) contains the pronouncement I am the gate for the sheep (v. 7) and again, I am the gate (v. 9). The second (vv. 11–18) has the pronouncement I am the good shepherd twice (vv. 11 and 14).

The first subsection immediately answers a question not likely to be asked. A reader might respond to verses 1–6 by asking about the shepherd or the sheep, but probably not about the identification of the gatekeeper (v. 3), much less the gate! And yet Jesus begins his expansion on the parable, not where one might expect, with “I am the shepherd,” but where no one expects, with I am the gate for the sheep (lit., “I am the gate of the sheep”).

It is true that the gate was mentioned with a certain emphasis near the beginning of the story. An entrance to the sheepfold “by the gate” (v. 1) is a legitimate entrance. The gate might therefore be understood as representing legitimation for those who undertake to be “shepherds” (or leaders) among the people of God. Jesus’ pronouncement would then have to be understood as “I am the gate to the sheep” (i.e., those who seek access to God’s people as their leaders must possess an authority derived from Jesus). Interpreted in this way, the pronouncement has possible relevance to the Christian church at the time the Gospel was written, but it is difficult to know how the Pharisees who heard Jesus would have understood it. Moreover, the most natural interpretation of the gate for the sheep is, as that translation suggests, the gate used by the sheep to go in and out, not the gate of access to the sheep. This is supported by verse 9: I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved. He will come in and go out, and find pasture. The metaphor of the gate presents Jesus as the way to salvation (cf. 14:6), not as the validator of ministries. He has come in order that those who believe may have life, and have it to the full (v. 10).

The gate metaphor as used in verses 7–10 is only loosely related to the gate mentioned in the story proper. Before he is the gate, Jesus is one who comes (vv. 8, 10). This verb—which is no part of the gate metaphor—takes priority over the metaphor so as to limit and control it. It is as the Coming One—specifically as the Messiah—that Jesus designates himself the gate for the sheep. He is the way to salvation, not passively (as gate by itself might suggest) but actively, as one who comes to save. It is as the Coming One also that he contrasts himself with all who ever came before me whom he describes as thieves and robbers (v. 8), again picking up a phrase from the story itself (v. 1). The purpose of the contrast is to make clear that Jesus is the only way to salvation. Later he will tell his disciples, “no one comes to the Father except through me” (14:6). In a very different context in the Synoptics, he is represented as urging: “Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow is the road that leads to life, and only a few find it” (Matt. 7:13–14; cf. Luke 13:24). To say that all who … came before me were thieves and robbers (v. 8) is simply a different way of saying that all other gates are false and all other ways deceptive. Some have found here an allusion to false messianic pretenders (of which there were a number in Jesus’ time), but the reference is probably not that specific.

The repetition of the “I am” statement provides a framework within which two distinct points are made. The first statement (v. 7) is followed by the contrast between Jesus and all contrary teachers and teachings (v. 8). The second (v. 9a) is followed by an appropriate description of a gate’s function: It provides sheep a way into the fold for safety and a way out for freedom and pasture (v. 9b). This is Jesus’ function as well: He provides his followers with protection from harm and with abundant life (vv. 9b–10). The contrast with thieves is here repeated, for they do exactly the opposite. They steal and kill and destroy (v. 10a).

A similar pattern exists in verses 11–18. The first instance of I am the good shepherd (v. 11) is followed by a contrast with the shepherd who is not so good (i.e., the hired hand, vv. 12–13). The second (v. 14a) is followed by a description of how a good shepherd functions, explicitly referring to the actual redemptive work of Jesus (vv. 14b–18). The unmistakable thrust of the passage is that Jesus is a shepherd who lays down his life for his sheep. This assertion is made right at the outset as the very definition of good (v. 11) and again in the middle as part of a revelation or prophecy of the saving work that Jesus is about to accomplish (v. 15). The last two verses in their entirety are then devoted to examining the assertion more closely and reflecting on it theologically (vv. 17–18).

This subsection contains a number of features not found in the introductory parable at all. The hired hand of verses 11–13 is not to be equated with the thieves and robbers mentioned in the parable (v. 1) and in the gate polemic of verse 8. Their role is taken over instead by the wolf (v. 12) who attacks the flock and scatters it. The hired man is introduced solely for the sake of the contrast with the good shepherd. The difference between them is that a good shepherd will risk his life to protect the sheep, while a hireling will not. They are not his property and livelihood, after all (v. 12), and their fate does not matter to him in the same way it does to the shepherd. The hired man does not symbolically represent a particular group in Israel (e.g., the Pharisees), nor is the description of him intended as an indictment of Israel’s leaders. He is in the discourse only to highlight the fact that, by contrast, a good shepherd lays down his life to rescue his sheep from predators. These predators—the thieves and robbers and the marauding wolf—are the real enemies of the flock and of the shepherd. Who do they represent? To Jesus, all the forces of evil that he came to overthrow: the demons, or unclean spirits, he drove out of those who were possessed; the “strong man” whom he claimed in one of his parables to have bound and whose captives he claimed to have set free (Mark 3:27); the religious authorities who charged that he himself was in league with Satan (Mark 3:22), and who finally engineered his arrest and execution. To the narrator, the enemies of the sheep represent those same religious authorities, who were already trying to kill Jesus (cf. 5:18; 8:40) and were expelling his followers from the synagogues (9:22, 34) The same group will later condemn him to death and afterward kill, as well as expel from the synagogue, his disciples—all in the name of piety (16:2–3)! The wolf, as well as the thieves and robbers, represents in this Gospel the encroachments of the evil “world,” in all its alienation from God, against the followers of Jesus (cf. 15:18–25). It is from the “world” that the sheep need to be protected (cf. 16:33; 17:11, 14–16), and Jesus the shepherd will risk his life, even give his life, to protect and save them.

The notion of the shepherd endangering his life for the sake of the sheep turns almost imperceptibly from a metaphor to a reality as the discourse unfolds. The picture in verse 11 is of a shepherd who lays down his life in defense of his sheep by fighting off the attacking wolf. Verses 11–13 are an extended metaphor, actually a self-contained story matching the figure of speech in verses 1–5. At the very least they provide a double character sketch (i.e., of the shepherd and of the hired man), but more than that, they give a real picture of a wolf attacking a flock of sheep, with the hired man running away to save his own life. The key to the interpretation of the story is given first: I am the good shepherd (v. 11a). Then the story is told, as a parable should be, entirely in the third person: The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep … (v. 11b).

The story continues through verse 13, but verses 14–16 are different. The repetition of I am the good shepherd necessarily brings Jesus back to the use of the first person, but this time he continues that usage: I know my sheep and my sheep know me—just as the Father knows me and I know the Father—and I lay down my life for the sheep … I have other sheep … I must bring them also. This is no longer a parable or figure of speech, but a self-revelation of the Son. Though it uses metaphors, it is not itself metaphorical; it is intended, rather, as a literal description of reality. It has nothing to do with shepherds and sheep and everything to do with Jesus and with his disciples, his Father, and Jesus’ redemptive death. When Jesus speaks of the mutual knowledge between himself and the Father and between himself and the disciples (v. 15), his words recall his self-revelation in Matthew 11:27: “No one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and those to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.” When he claims to lay down his life for his sheep (v. 15), it is clear that he is no longer speaking of fighting physically against wolves, but of dying on the cross to redeem those who believe in him. And when he promises to bring other sheep that are not of this sheep pen (v. 16), he is anticipating the church’s mission to the Gentiles after his death and resurrection (cf. the narrator’s explicit reference to this mission in 11:52). Verses 14–16 thus comprise an unmistakable, though partial, summary of Jesus’ mission from its beginning (as the Father knows me and I know the Father) to its full realization in history (one flock and one shepherd, cf. 11:52; 17:20–23). This summary comes, not from Jesus’ disciples in the form of a creed, but from his own lips as revelation.

Yet there is a certain illogic in all this. How can Jesus die and still be able to gather his sheep into one flock? A crucial link in the chain of redemptive events is missing. Jesus must be raised from the dead. The main point of the passage is that Jesus’ death results in the unity of the flock, but the unspoken assumption is that unity is possible only because of his resurrection. Instead of death followed by resurrection, the pattern is death followed by the gathering of a community, with resurrection as the unspoken link between the two. The same pattern is found in Mark 14:27–28, where Jesus tells his disciples, “It is written: ‘I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered.’ But after I have risen, I will go ahead of you into Galilee.” Here the resurrection is mentioned only in a subordinate clause, and in John 11:52 it is not mentioned at all (“Jesus would die for the Jewish nation, … for the scattered children of God, to bring them together and make them one”).

In the present passage the resurrection becomes explicit in verses 17–18. Jesus explains that he will lay down his life only to take it up again (v. 17). Unlike the stricken shepherd of Zechariah 13:7 (the Scripture cited in Mark 14:27), Jesus here presents himself as one who dies willingly and at his own initiative: No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down and authority to take it up again (v. 18). His own life, like all life (cf. 5:21, 26), is at his disposal. If “the Son gives life to whom he is pleased to give it” (5:21), it is no surprise that he takes back his own life from the grip of death. And yet the Son is not autonomous (cf. 5:19, 30). Whether in dying, rising from the dead, or gathering a new community, Jesus acts always at his Father’s command (v. 18b; cf. 14:31). He has authority to do only what the Father wants done. But because the command and the authority are grounded in the Father’s love for the Son (cf. 3:35; 5:20), love is also the Father’s response to Jesus’ faithful completion of the good shepherd’s task (v. 17a).

The brief discourse ends in Jesus’ hearers (vv. 19–21) being divided (Gr.: schisma; cf. 7:43; 9:16). It is significant that what divides them is not only the implicit claim he has just made of a unique relationship to God but also the stubborn fact that he has given sight to the blind (v. 21). The issue raised by the blind man himself in the preceding chapter is still very much alive (9:32–33). Both the words and the works of Jesus continue to challenge his audience and force them toward decision.