Lectionary Commentaries for April 26, 2026
Fourth Sunday of Easter (Year A)

Throughout the Synoptic Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke, we frequently see Jesus using parables to describe the reign of God. Yet the opposite is true in the Gospel of John: Jesus does not use parables in John’s Gospel at all and rarely talks about the kingdom of God (only in John 3:3, 5). Nevertheless, at the beginning of John 10, we hear something that seems a lot like a parable. The narrator calls it a paroimia, an extended figure of speech (10:6). 

As with the vine and the branches later in this Gospel (15:1–17), Jesus uses a central image, a sheepfold with sheep, a shepherd, a gate and gatekeeper, and the threats to the well-being of these figures, to illuminate aspects of his own identity and relationships with God and others, especially his followers. In that sense, this passage is unusual in John’s Gospel, and yet it feels familiar to students of Jesus’s teaching from the Synoptic Gospels. 

In another sense, though, this passage is very typical of John’s Gospel. While it is easy to read this passage as simply beginning a new section of Jesus’s teaching, the beginning phrase, “Very truly (amēn amēn),” functions something like a “therefore.” There’s an adage that, in Paul’s letters, if a reader encounters a “therefore,” they should ask what it is there for. Similarly, “very truly” connects this passage back to the one before, a lengthy narrative about the healing of a man born blind and the questions that ensue (9:1–41). Readers of John’s Gospel are familiar with the pattern that a miraculous sign from Jesus is then followed by a discourse in which Jesus explains the sign’s significance (see 5:1–18; 5:19–47; 6:1–15; 6:22–59).

There are two primary points of connection between this passage and the healing sign in John 9: the senses (seeing/hearing) and the question of leadership. John 9 appears to be entirely focused on the sense of sight. A man who was blind is now healed (9:7, 15, 25) and thus can see Jesus (9:37). 

Jesus goes on to teach that he “came into this world for judgment so that those who do not see may see and those who do see may become blind” (9:39)—a point directly applicable to the Pharisees who overheard it, who are essentially leaders who see but do not see. Sometimes that lack of sight looks like seeing the wrong thing; in John 9, it is described as not seeing what is before their eyes. They hear the formerly blind man’s testimony, but it does not change what they see. Neither their hearing nor their seeing guides them to the conclusion that the formerly blind man proclaims (9:38).

The image of the sheepfold, gate, and shepherd in John 10 addresses these ideas of seeing and hearing and their connections to leadership. In this context, it is unsurprising that the negative examples—a thief and a bandit—are the first mentioned (10:1). The thief and bandit, in this image, are the ones who are seeking to take what is not rightfully theirs. 

The gate is the divider between one who has the right to enter the sheepfold—the shepherd (10:2)—and those who do not (10:1). This is consistent with the images of gates and doors throughout the Bible; they are often dividing lines, between what is inside and what is outside (Exodus 12:2; Judges 9:44; Luke 13:24–25; Revelation 3:20; 4:1), or places of revelation (Exodus 12:23; Psalm 78:23; Matthew 27:60; John 20:19, 26). The gate and the gatekeeper reveal who has the right to enter the sheepfold: It is only the shepherd, who knows the sheep’s names and whose voice they hear.

It is tempting to treat this figure of speech as an allegory, labeling each role. The following passage, where Jesus declares that he is the good shepherd, tends to encourage this (10:11, 14). However, it is helpful at that point to recall that Jesus says that he is the gate too (10:7, 9). If we try to read this straightforwardly, it seems almost humorous: How is Jesus both gate and shepherd? These are not static images in search of one allusion or answer. Instead, they are a figure of speech together, and the focus is on their interactions with the sheep and the sheepfold.

Shepherds have been an image for leaders of God’s people since Moses (Exodus 2:17–3:1) and David (1 Samuel 16:11). The prophets describe good shepherds and bad shepherds, and Ezekiel 34:11–16 describes God as shepherd. This echoes other passages in the Synoptic Gospels too. For example, in Mark 6:30 Jesus sees a hungry crowd as sheep without a shepherd, and he has compassion on them. This is in contrast to tetrarchs like Herod Antipas, who feed their courtiers and kill God’s prophet (John the Baptist) instead of tending to the needs of the people (Mark 6:14–29). Such “thieves and bandits,” in the imagery of this sheepfold metaphor, “only steal and kill and destroy” (10:10). Such death-dealing actions by leaders go directly against the life that the gate leads to.

When imagining Jesus as “the gate” (10:7, 9), it is easy to think of the gate as literally and metaphorically penning in the sheep and restricting their movements. However, the purpose of the gate is twofold: It protects the sheep from those death-dealing forces described above. It also provides access for the sheep to the pasture (10:9). The expansiveness of this pasture is captured in Jesus’s final words in this passage: “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly” (10:10). 

This abundant life has been glimpsed in images of abundant wine at a wedding celebration (2:6–7) and so much bread and fish on a Galilean hillside (6:13), and will be seen in a love that reaches beyond death (13:2; 20:11–20) and a life that does not stay dead. Jesus not only is life (11:24; 14:6), but he also brings that life to others: a life that is abundant in its amount, like the bread and fish, and in its quality, like the wine. This life is available through this gate and this shepherd, who will lay down his own life for the sheep (10:15).

Acts portrays an idyllic community arising from the fiery events of Shavuot in chapter 2. Those who welcomed Peter’s message create a fellowship (koinōnia), and they commit themselves to learning more about the message. Acts connects the core elements of Peter’s message to how the newly formed community attempts to put the critique of empire into practice. This community understood itself in partnership with each other and with God.

What a fellowship!

Peter’s message hinges on the fact that the audience should understand themselves as living at the edge of time, because the God described in the Hebrew scriptures has acted in their time by anointing Jesus of Nazareth. God has also confirmed Jesus’s anointing by raising him from the dead after he was unjustly lynched by the Roman Jerusalem judiciary. For Luke-Acts, Jesus is the One Anointed for abolition and the one sent to send into freedom those who have been broken by oppression (Luke 4:18–19). Jesus is the One Anointed to proclaim good news to those who have been impoverished through the extortion of empire. 

In the gospel account, it is those very impoverished ones to whom the basileia / kin(g)dom / reign / realm / homespace of God belongs (Luke 6:20). The term koinōnia in Acts 2:42–47 reflects a fellowship, partnership, and/or community attempting to live into the vision laid out by the One Anointed to send the oppressed into freedom and to proclaim abolition for the incarcerated.

Koinōnia is radical sharing and reparations that resist empire

The koinonia was marked by redistribution of resources. “From each according to his ability; to each according to his need,” as the old slogan goes. Those who trusted Jesus, the One Anointed for abolition, were filled with the Spirit that had anointed him, which led them to share everything in common (koina). Those with more possessions obviously had to give up more, especially so that they could help those who did not have anything to give and those who were in need. At this point in Acts, it is unambiguous that the Spirit-led community that trusted Jesus as the Anointed One understood their economic life as social and communal.

Luke-Acts is consistent that those who are wealthy are the ones in jeopardy of missing God’s activity in the world. We can see this in the parabolic rich man that tradition calls Dives. He awakens in a post-mortem, fiery hellscape because of his neglect of the poor man Lazarus (Luke 16:19–31). We can also see this with Zacchaeus, who gained his wealth from being Rome’s chief collector of the financial penalty that Judeans had to pay for being conquered (Luke 19:1–10). Only after he says that he will pay back what he extorted does Jesus tell him that salvation has come to his house. 

Whether real in the narrative or through characters in stories, the material excess of the wealthy was a hindrance for the spiritual access to the community that Jesus was crafting. This is to say that there could be no salvation without paying reparations. That is Luke’s soteriology. Luke’s Jesus says, “Life is more than the abundance of possessions” (Luke 12:15).

The word translated as “poor” in Luke 4:18 and 6:20 should be understood less as a passive state that describes the people in the category. It instead should be read as discussing the empire actively impoverishing and extracting resources, the type of activity that reduces people to begging. The koinōnia in this way provides a counter to empire. 

I do not have the space here to discuss whether it is anti-imperial or alter-imperial, but what is important to note here is that Acts presents a community that resists some of the hierarchical, dominating, exploitative, and violent organizing principles of Rome. Rather than mimicking Rome and taking away what people need, this community shares so that everyone has what they need. Rather than despising the common (koina), this community co-creates the common. Rather than using wealth to make others more vulnerable to death, this community uses wealth to develop more opportunities for life. 

The community in Acts 2 has mutual aid as its foundation. This foundational principle can be traced as the movement develops across Acts, especially in chapters 5 and 6. The offering to support the community in Jerusalem after a famine can also be connected to this impulse of communal support (Acts 11:27–30; 24:17). Even beyond Acts as early Christianity developed, a key feature of Jesus-centered groups was their mutual-aid programs that provided food for the hungry, resources for the impoverished, and burial assistance for the marginalized.

Koinōnia is doing life together at the edge of time

The community broke bread and ate together daily. Whether these meals were primarily Eucharistic or not is beside the point. The point is that they were doing life together. This is significant because they were in a crisis moment. The crisis included that they were living at the edge of time, or in “the last days,” as Peter had dubbed the moment, using an excerpt from Joel. These last days need not be eschatological in that the world was ending, but in multiple ways the world was ending for those who trusted Jesus as the One Anointed for abolition. 

By aligning with Jesus who was executed in a way reserved for troublemakers, they were in solidarity with enemies of the empire. Then they were put into direct conflict with their governmental authorities by agreeing with and studying Peter’s message about God raising Jesus as the ultimate critique of the Roman-inflected Jerusalem judiciary. The danger that this community faced was imminent from the beginning, and in the next chapter they would become victims of local, provincial, and imperially aligned violence. Experiencing this type of violence, for Acts, is a key feature of the community or movement. Regardless, the community still prioritized tending to its most vulnerable, even as it, as a movement, was vulnerable. They leaned into each other even as the empire attempted to press in on them.

What if it was this radical mutuality that made the community attractive to the 3,000 who joined it? What if what was appealing was not only the preaching about Jesus but the living out of the anointed teachings that abolish colonial hierarchy, greed, and carceral violence?

Select bibliography

Margaret P. Aymer, “Empire, Alter-Empire, and the Twenty-First Century,” Union Seminary Quarterly Review 59 (2005): 140–46.

Jennifer Quigley, Divine Accounting: Theoeconomics in Early Christianity (Yale University Press, 2020).

Jeremy L. Williams, Criminalization in Acts of the Apostles: Race, Rhetoric, and the Prosecution of an Early Christian Movement (Cambridge University Press, 2024).

Many of us can only hear the first line of the psalm in the King James Version: “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.”¹

With a simple metaphor in a concise and elegant line, this verse expresses the message of the entire psalm: Yahweh satisfies every need. The images shift throughout the poem, but that central idea remains constant.

Indeed, Psalm 23 delivers some of the most beautiful and deeply comforting images in the whole Bible. As such, this psalm is a favorite—indeed, the favorite—of many.² But the imagery in this psalm is also full of surprises. So our reading and preaching of this text should not be sentimental, but bold, always keeping in mind the ways that its radical claims confront our experiences of suffering, fear, enmity, and alienation.

The enduring appeal of Psalm 23

The pastoral metaphor at the outset of Psalm 23 resonates so deeply with Christians because of texts like John 10:11 and John 21:15–17. The history of Christian art has played its part as well, reinforcing and developing this image of Jesus as the Good Shepherd through countless iterations. Having encountered all these images of Jesus holding and caring for sheep, it’s hard for us not to associate Jesus with the shepherd in verse 1.

We can also attribute the psalm’s popularity to its happy ending. With rhetorical flourish, the psalm describes a blessed present and a blessed future, filled with the enjoyment of God’s presence: “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long!” (verse 6, New Revised Standard Version). The venerable King James Version, which so many of us know, in fact, seems to suggest that a beatific afterlife is in view: “I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

Preaching such a popular text is dangerous, for sentimentalism can easily supplant exegesis. When that happens, our well-worn readings tend to mute the fresh word from God to the contemporary community. Thus, we proceed with caution in mapping the structure and imagery of the text.

The journey of the psalmist

The pastoral images that dominate the beginning of the psalm (shepherd, the verdant fields, and the waters of repose) actually work together to describe a journey that Yahweh oversees and guides. The rest in green pastures is, in fact, but a temporary repose (verse 2a). This psalmist is on the go, walking beside the water, along paths, and through valleys (verses 2–4).

After the description of the blessing that awaits the psalmist in the house of the Lord (verse 5), the text again pictures the psalmist in motion: “Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life” (King James Version). The word “follow” here (radaph) is better translated “pursue,” a surprising verb given that it is usually the enemies that are pursing the psalmist with an intent to overtake and destroy (for example, Psalms 7:1; 35:3; 143:3). Furthermore, in this same verse, the word “surely” (’aq) is better translated “only.” Thus, it’s not the enemies in hot pursuit. Instead, “only goodness and mercy will be chasing me down.”

The imagery of the final line of the psalm (verse 6b) also deserves another look. For most readers, the end of the psalm provides a picture of an unending bliss in the house of the Lord. The King James Version is the basis for the New Revised Standard Version translating the word shuv as “dwell” here. Some scholars reckon this to be a unique usage of the word shuv, claiming that it indicates a “return with the desire to stay where one ends up.” So, “I will dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long” (New Revised Standard Version).

Yet others rightly understand shuv here in its most simple sense: “to turn” or “return.” Given the prevalence of images of traveling throughout the psalm, it is most appropriate to read the last line this way: “I will continually return to Yahweh’s presence, my whole life long.” Thus, the journey does not end at the end of the psalm. Rather, seeking after God’s presence is a lifelong enterprise, a long-term journey.

This journey consists of the “paths (ma‘galim) of righteousness.” Interestingly, when ma‘galim appears in the rest of the Hebrew Bible, we find it translated “tracks” or “entrenchments,” or even “ruts” that are made by the wheels of an oxcart—the word ma‘galim is, in fact, related to the word for young cow, ‘egel. Thus, the “paths of righteousness” are more like ruts in the ground, grooves for the wheels of your oxcart.

So, walking with Yahweh is finding your groove, and a righteous groove at that! To get into the righteous groove is to live in a way that promotes and sustains right relationships all around you, with the community and with God. To live this way glorifies the name (or the reputation) of God: “He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.”

Jesus as shepherd and trailblazer

As Christians who read and preach this text, we must consider Jesus not only as the good shepherd of John 10, but also as the trailblazer of the paths of righteousness (see Hebrews 12:1–2). Jesus tends us and guides us into right relationships with each other and with God. In the psalm, the paths of righteousness do not lead directly from the green pastures to the house of the Lord. No, those righteous ruts go through the very darkest valley (verse 4).

In Jesus’s case, the paths of righteousness lead all the way to the cross. Jesus has shown us that way (see especially 1 John 3:16–24) and calls us to follow him. The good news of Psalm 23 is that when we walk these paths of righteousness, we walk with God (verse 4).

Notes

1. Commentary first published on this site on April 26, 2015.
2. For an extraordinary discussion of the ascendancy of Psalm 23 in American culture, see William Holladay, “Epilogue: How the Twenty Third Psalm Became an American Secular Icon,” in The Psalms Through Three Thousand Years: Prayerbook of a Cloud of Witnesses (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1996), 359–371.

Jesus died on the cross for everyone, including the “wretched of the earth,” and these include slaves, the poor, immigrants, and all vulnerable people. Several Bible passages are deeply problematic, and 1 Peter 2:19–25 is one of the texts I will wrestle with and comment on in this article. The question is: Why did Peter appeal to slaves and exhort them to endure pain at the hands of their oppressors (verse 18)? Is it proper for an apostle to preach a gospel of reconciliation between the oppressed and the oppressor? 

Colonialism, imperialism, and any form of human degradation stand to be opposed, resisted, and abolished. The silence of Peter on reconciliation and the proper treatment of slaves is troubling for readers of this text. Peter preached about the benefits of the cross of Jesus and the power of liberation to set all human beings free, yet 1 Peter 2:19–25 seems to counter all that is in the previous passages. 

However, we may surmise that the Roman Empire, in which Christianity as a minority movement was formed, was perhaps harsh to the followers of Jesus Christ (2:11–25). Peter may have appealed to slaves, wives, and husbands to be loyal to their masters based on safeguarding the Gospel of Jesus. As “aliens and sojourners” in an imperial world, Christians were to live ethical, moral, and responsible lives because civic engagements were a matter of life and death (2:11). 

For most first-world nations, like North America and Europe, imperialism and colonization are foreign concepts because they are the harbingers and perpetrators of oppression, racism, bigotry, and hatred of people who are not “white.” Hence, Peter’s message appeals to all people who have suffered and continue to suffer under the pain of “whiteness,” to always remember that God views them as God’s children, fully integrated siblings of one another. 

Not all who talk about discipleship model the essence of concrete discipleship. Despite any hostility, people of color and those from the Global South are summoned to choose a Christ-like way of living, one that seeks to speak out against any forms of dehumanization, but also modeling forgiveness, love, and grace. This is the perennial problem for the church in the 21st-century world of North America and Europe, because racism and oppression of others are not just political issues, but are related to economic power. 

Empires are for economic advantages, and at times, organized and hierarchical denominations can easily assume imperial policies meant to perpetuate the racial and divisive elements. In this case, Africans, Asians, Latin Americans, Islanders, and immigrants should pay attention to the ethical and moral message of 1 Peter 2:19–25. Peter agrees with Paul, who exhorted the Philippian church to “do all things without murmuring and arguing, so that you may be blameless in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, in which you shine like stars in the world” (Philippians 2:14–15). 

Admittedly, being a Christian is a complicated life, especially when one is poor, sick, hungry, and—worse—under oppression. Nevertheless, the apostle Peter exhorts Christians to follow the example of Jesus, who never cursed or retaliated when he was tormented by his oppressors. Instead, through prayer and humility, believers should let God handle their battles and should remain steady in their faith, obedience, and trust in the One who can withstand everything (2 Chronicles 20:15). 

Oppressed or free, Christians are to know that Jesus Christ died for them, and that the Son of God is the excellent shepherd who is always looking after them (verses 24–25). Hard passages such as these are not meant to make the oppressed submissive, docile, and passive under evil oppression. Instead, their faith in God should be their voice, power, and resource to resist and speak out, and to challenge those in power to respect and dignify them. Silence in times of being oppressed can be tantamount to sin against oneself, and even against God. Social justice is a matter of life and death, and Jesus died to liberate and bring the gift of justice to all humanity. 

Interestingly, Peter mentions women, who were contextually oppressed by their husbands and even by the rules of the Roman Empire. Under the Gospel of Jesus Christ, women were no longer objects to be oppressed by husbands, especially in their houses, because house churches were formational and foundational in the early Christian church. Hence, women and slaves shared and experienced these submissive roles, and Peter’s message is meant to liberate them from husbands, and even from the Roman marriage laws. 

In most parts of the world, women still struggle to be leaders in their homes and even in the church. The 21st-century Christian church will be much better if it can open doors for female leadership because women get things done. Hence, 1 Peter 2:19–25 is against slavery, and he specifically addresses the systemic and structural sin present in the global world. 

On the other hand, the death and resurrection of Jesus was not done passively or out of cowardice, but it was a deliberate divine action on the part of God, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit. Those who have fought for their independence know that liberation comes after a painful sacrifice and even a shedding of blood. A deep sense of purpose and resolve was in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus the Messiah. Fighting for peace does not exempt Christians from pain, but all in all, it ushers benefits to the body of Christ. Contextually, Christians are encouraged or even summoned to live courageously but peacefully in a hostile environment. 

That is what the apostle Peter was writing about in this passage of scripture, consequently writing to the church in the contemporary world. Modeling decorum and respect to imperial and civic leaders will disempower evil, and in the end, God will be honored (verses 16–17). In Romans Paul argued that Christians are “in the world but not of the world,” meaning that believers should not adopt or get sucked into the things of the world, but always know their place, role, and function in the kingdom of God (Romans 12:1–2). Adapting to the world is not an option for Christians, but we should transform the world with the gospel and how we conduct ourselves.  

Whether diplomatically or gospel-wise, Peter calls on Christians to do what is always right and to reject all forms of oppression, dehumanization, and enslavement of the human family. Human life, lived within the context of Peter’s message, signifies that all life in the world is gospel work. It is daunting, but with faith in God, all things are possible.