Sermon for Sunday 3 May

John 10:1-10

Most years, I conduct the memorial service for International Workers Memorial Day. In Perth, the memorial takes place at Solidarity Park, across the road from State Parliament. Some of you will remember the ‘Third Wave’ protests in 1997 when that site was occupied for six months in protest at pending legislation. Today, it holds a memorial to workers who have gone to work and not come home. This year, just a few of us gathered at the memorial and the ceremony was livestreamed. It was just as meaningful, but quite different to the usual experience.

I particularly missed seeing comrades from the CFMEU in attendance. Those guys really know how to make an entrance! They form up out the front of Parliament House with their flags and march together to Solidarity Park en masse. It’s impressive and a bit terrifying, because people who work in construction, forestry, mining and energy are pretty tough from all that physical work. Of course, the workers themselves are all big softies once you get to know them – men and women who care deeply about one another and stand up for safety and against injustice. Because of that passion, and a talent for salty language, they are often in conflict with business owners and corporations, and sometimes get called ‘thugs’. Their biggest enemy? The Master Builders Association. Whenever there’s an industrial issue, you can guarantee that the CFMEU and the MBA will be on opposing sides.

So I was surprised on Friday when I saw that these two organisations, who are traditional enemies, joined together to call for a $10 billion investment in social and affordable housing as part of a stimulus package to recover from COVID19. It makes perfect sense. Construction workers need jobs, construction companies need income, people need affordable places to live, and social housing doesn’t make money, but in the long run it doesn’t cost money either. It’s a win-win strategy for government and industry – so the stakeholders have got together to develop a grassroots, collaborative solution to propose to governments.

It may seem like the most logical thing in the world, but it isn’t always widely understood that having secure accommodation is the prerequisite for nearly every other thing that makes for a fulfilling life. Secure accommodation makes it more possible to access education, makes it easier to get a job, makes it easier to access health care and keep good mental health. It helps families stay together and helps reduce domestic and family violence. As we are seeing during this pandemic, secure accommodation also lowers infection risk and enables people to self-isolate when they are sick (with any kind of illness). Having a steady place to live that costs less than 30% of your income improves lives, whethers it’s social housing provided by a charity, affordable housing supported by government investment, low-interest loans or tax incentives for owner-occupiers. It just works.

Now, I’m bleating on about housing policy and may be wondering why. Here’s why.

When we imagine sheep and shepherds, we tend to imagine vast green pastures on rolling hills with fluffy white sheep gambolling along merrily going baa. But when you visit the Holy Land, you don’t find anything like that. There are still Bedouin people today who herd sheep, and the sheep look tough and have dark wool. They are muscly and sure-footed from climbing over the rocks and hills and desert spots. You don’t have a huge flock, because there’s not enough grass and plants. Lamb is tasty and mutton isn’t, so you only keep enough adult sheep to give birth to more sheep and provide some wool. A shepherd in, say, Bethlehem might have a couple of dozen sheep and after a day out wandering, would bring them home. They might live in a split level home made of mud or timber, or, particularly around Bethlehem, they might use a cave as part of the home, with some annex bits built on. The livestock would be brought into the home to keep them safe, and in winter to keep the family warm. There would be a door or a gate, or perhaps a pile of stones, to secure the entry way so the sheep can’t get out and thieves can’t get in.

Even sheep need a home in order to thrive.

In John chapter 10 which we read today, the Jesus of John’s gospel is warning about thieves and bandits who don’t enter the central area of the house (unhelpfully translated as ‘sheepfold’), but climb in by another way. It also mentions a doorkeeper, who was probably a junior family member who had the warm but smelly task of sleeping near the doorway. The sheep are very much part of the household – they are not just possessions, but family members. They know the shepherd’s voice.

The domestic scene continues with Jesus delivering one of his famous I Am statements, to declare that he is the door (or the gate, but I prefer door). Whoever enters by Jesus will be ‘saved’ or kept safe, and those will be able to go in and out and find pasture. The thief is only interested in death and destruction, but Jesus brings abundant life.

Now, there is rich spiritual and theological fodder in imagining Jesus as a metaphorical door to salvation. Through Christ, we can know fullness of life and closeness to God. I’ll leave you to do the wondering about that.

But today I would like to emphasise that Jesus has identified himself as a household item, a piece of construction, a part of a house – a part of a home. The door is the way into all the good stuff that homes can offer – safety and warmth and togetherness, a sense of security and reassurance. Whether home is a cave in Asia Minor or a prefab 3x2 on a new estate, or a tent in a refugee camp or a tiny city apartment – the door to the home is a threshold which shapes us. People who have homes have dignity and hope.

Jesus is, certainly, the door to coming Kingdom of God, which we believe is the true home for everyone. But Jesus is also the door to justice in the present, where we cherish the inherent value of each person by ensuring that each one of us has a place to call home.

As we are, by and large, confined to our homes for a while longer, may we recommit to a faith which cherishes the home as sacred space, and which believes that all people should have a home, because a safe, secure, hospitable home is a foretaste of the Kingdom of God.

Christ is Risen. Alleluia! Alleluia!