Good Gatekeepers – Br. Keith Nelson
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Br. Keith Nelson
The Fourth Sunday of Easter
John’s gospel prominently features seven instances when Jesus reveals something essential about his identity to his listeners. These images are arresting, like the burning bush which Moses turned aside to get a closer look at. From this bush God revealed the divine name, translated, “I am who I am.” The gospel writer means us to recall this pivotal moment in salvation history each time we hear Jesus say “I am…”
I am the bread of life.
I am the light of the world.
I am the door for the sheep.
I am the good shepherd.
I am the resurrection and the life.
I am the way, the truth, and the life.
I am the vine.
These revelations of self both illuminate and obscure who Jesus really is. In a way, all metaphorical speech does this. It points to a deeper reality behind or beneath a thing, so it opens an opportunity to grasp what we might otherwise miss, rolling along as we do on the well-worn highways of literal speech.
At the same time, metaphors demand interpretation, and this need instigates questions and dialogue between characters and groups in John’s gospel. Some persist through their confusion and disbelief, and thus grasp and believe.
This morning we encounter Jesus as the Gate. Because this particular gate is the gate of a sheepfold, an enclosed courtyard in which the flocks of several different shepherds were kept, it’s easy to skip right over it to verse 11 (which we did not hear this morning): “I am the good shepherd.” But I’d like to stick with Jesus as the gate for the sheep.
Can you recall the first time you entered this chapel? (Maybe for some of you that’s this morning). If you came through the front door, one of the first things you probably noticed as you looked up is this black, wrought-iron gate separating the antechapel from the choir and the altar. It boldly delineates a boundary, a particular relationship with the outside world. This can be intriguing to some, heightening their sense of entering a holy space… and it can feel off-putting, confusing, or exclusionary to others. When I was a novice and our sacristan, the satisfying click of the latch as the gate locked at the end of a long day was music to my ears. On bad days the iron bars could feel reminiscent of a prison or a petting zoo. But I persisted, and on most days, I loved opening the gate in the morning, and the promise and hope that that action represented. Perhaps ironically, the presence of this gate allows us to keep the chapel front door unlocked and the chapel accessible from early morning until night, six days a week. In an urban landscape in which churches are abundant but their front doors are almost always locked, this is a significant ministry to many, some of whom we will never meet.
Perhaps you also persisted in spite of misgivings, and came to discover that this gate lets you into our life and into our hearts, along with your witness to the gospel, which sustains us as we hope ours sustains you.
With all his obscure metaphors and challenging pronouncements, the Jesus of John’s gospel can be a Gate we may feel wary to approach, much less enter. But Jesus says “Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture… I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly” (John 10:9–10).
Whether they are for sheep or for monks (and their guests), gates and the fences or walls they are attached to provide two things. They offer security and safety to those who pass within, an interior place of refuge, stability, and community. And they offer freedom to pass through them once again as an access point to the outside world, with its challenges as well as its excitement and the endless unfolding of new experiences.
Jesus the Gate of the sheepfold offers both a stable refuge within and a point of access to a wider world without. It is certainly not the case that Jesus saves us lost sheep simply to keep us cozy and safe in one another’s company exclusively. That would be both myopic and rather dull. The image of Jesus the Gate is also not intended to inspire a gate-keeping faith, obsessed with walls as markers of distinction and separation. Just as the shepherd leads the sheep out to pasture and back home again each day, this coming in and going out are a daily, cyclical dimension of healthy discipleship.
The more stable and secure most of us feel in our sense of belonging, the more permission we feel to fully explore who we truly are, to become and express the person God created us to be, and to allow others to participate in the same joyful and liberating journey.
This is a key dynamic in living out the vow of obedience we take as Brothers. In our Rule, we read: “Unless our obedience is in the Spirit we could be tempted to use the life of the community as a shelter from claiming and using our own responsibility and power as sons of God. The vow of obedience requires us to be constantly attentive to the voice of the Spirit within our hearts, endowing us with our own unique authority and gifts. We are called to be obedient to our true selves as they are being formed in Christ. Only where there is a growing respect for our true selves can there be authentic participation in the community’s common endeavor to discern and carry out God’s will.”
The invitation of Jesus to you may be: Come in. Settle down. Find the security, the stability, the companionship, and the belonging that the sheepfold offers. If you’re already inside, the invitation of Jesus right now may be: Go out. You are mine and you know your way home. You’ve got a sheepfold in your heart that you take with you wherever you go. There are other sheep out there looking for precisely what you have found. Look for what I am already up to in them, and in the wide world beyond.
In prayer with this passage, I found myself most drawn to ask: What about that gatekeeper? Jesus says, “The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep hear his voice” (John 10:2–3). Just as the image of Jesus the Gate of the sheepfold often gets elided into Jesus the Shepherd, the church’s robust repertoire of sheep-and-shepherd imagery tends to omit the humble gatekeeper. In contemporary parlance, gatekeeping has negative connotations; gatekeepers are those who control access to resources, power, opportunities or information. When power over vital gates is abused, gatekeepers easily become thieves and bandits in disguise. But the job description of the gatekeeper in Jesus’ image is straightforward: to open the gate at the sound of the shepherd’s voice. Jesus is the gate; Jesus is the shepherd. It is not the gatekeeper’s job to determine who goes out or comes in, but simply to open the door.
When Brother Jack and I were living at Emery House in 2023, we raised a small flock of hens, following in Br. James’ footsteps. When the day arrived that they were ready to wander into the outdoor enclosure attached to the hen house, we opened the hatch. To our amusement, it took them quite some time to learn that they could go through the opening, and that what lay beyond was not only safe but quite interesting and tasty. They had to learn not only what was on the other side of the door, but the difference between a door and a wall.
For many people, the church is all wall and no door, and Christians are closed off behind walls rather than opening doors. There is power in claiming the humble but life-changing role of the gatekeeper as Jesus defines that role, opening the door as often and as soon as we hear his voice. If part of our discipleship is to let Jesus build a sheepfold in our hearts that we carry with us everywhere, it may also be to let our lives and our witness become a door, especially in situations or relationships where people often expect a wall.
Let us pray:
O God, whose child Jesus Christ is the Gate of the sheepfold: Grant that we who have known our belovedness and our belonging in his flock may open the door generously to all who seek him, trusting that he calls whom he will, and each by name; who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

