26 April 2026, The Good Shepherd, John 10:1-11, 1 Peter 2:17-25

Yesterday was ANZAC Day. Watching the services and ceremonies across the country on TV, it's a reminder that the freedom and peace we enjoy today came at an enormous cost.

Lives were given. And we are here because of that. But I’m sure I’m not the only one feeling this way, it’s hard to just feel peaceful right now, when so many parts of the world are still crying out in the pain of war.

It makes you wonder: "Who are these wars for? Why have so many people had to pay with their lives? And why does it keep going?

So as we begin sermon this morning, I want us to carry that in our hearts a prayer that no more innocent lives will be taken, and that real peace, lasting peace, would find its way into our broken world. (Share the peace)

Whenever ANZAC Day comes around, there is one particular war that always comes to my mind. Can you guess which one? It’s the Korean War.

As you know, 76 years ago, Australia sent 17,000 young men to a country… most of them had never even heard of. 340 of them didn't come home. 1,216 were wounded. 30 were taken as prisoners of war. Some are still resting in Korean soil.

When I was working as a youth worker at a Korean church in Sydney, every year on the last Sunday of June, the church would invite Korean War veterans and their families. It was our way of saying thank you.

We'd hold a memorial service, share a meal, and give them gifts.

I was part of the organising team, and I helped put it together seven times. It was a significant event. State government representatives came. Members of the assembly attended.

But every year, there was something that quietly broke my heart. The numbers kept going down.

Each year, fewer faces around the tables. When we said goodbye, we'd always say, "See you next year." But deep down, we knew that wasn’t a promise anyone could really make.

I remember thinking: I hope we keep doing this until there is only one person left to come.

In 2012, it rained heavily that day. We arranged for people to park as close to the church entrance as possible. I was walking through the car park when something stopped me. I literally froze. There was a car.

Why did I stop? Please take a look on the screen…. What's the first thing you notice? It's a Mitsubishi 380. Shinily blue. And….But if you haven't noticed it yet, please look at the number plate.  

"DMZ 38P" Do we know what it stands for?

Demilitarized Zone. 38th Parallel.

And below that, between two Australian flags, a sticker. "KOREA." I was stood and amazed.  Genuinely moved. Wow. That is something. I thought to myself “who does this car belong to? Is it a Korean person? Surely it's not an Australian.”

I was so curious, I just lingered around the area until I found the owner. It was an Australian veteran. He had driven all the way from Newcastle to Sydney, in full uniform. I walked up to him and said, "Your number plate — it's really something." He smiled. Not a big smile. A quiet one. And then he said: "I was eighteen years old. I didn't even know where Korea was. But… how could I ever forget?" He told me he had paid extra for that custom number plate. And not just once. He renews it every year. Then he said, without hesitation, “It’s worth every cent.”

We stood there and talked for a while. He shared some of his stories. And as he was about to leave, he looked at me and said,“Anyway see you next year.” And then he added something I didn’t expect: “I do love Korea.”

He said he loves Korea. He said he prays for Korea. Then he pointed to the front of his car. Another sticker: “Love Korea.”

He was a teenager. Sent to a country he knew nothing about. He saw things no human being should ever have to see. He barely made it back alive. And it wasn’t even his country he was fighting for.

If that were me, I think I would have spent the rest of my life trying to forget. Trying to move on. But this man drives around every day with DMZ 38P on his number plate. With "Love Korea" on his car. Not with bitterness. Not with resentment. With pride. With love.

How do we make sense of that? It took me a while, but eventually I came to understand it. When we lay our life on the line for something, we can't help but love it. We can't choose not to. It goes too deep. I had to ask myself:

Is there anything or anyone that I have ever loved like that?Is there anyone… I would be willing to lay my life down for?

This one photo invites us into John chapter 10 this morning. "I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays 레이down his life for the sheep."

We've read those words more times than we can count. We've sung them. We've been comforted by them. But this morning, they land differently.  When most of us picture the "good shepherd," what comes to mind?

Green pastures. Still waters. A gentle figure leading his flock through quiet hills. Psalm 23 — "He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters." It's peaceful. It's beautiful. it's a picture we love and need. There's real comfort in it.

But there's a deeper truth hidden inside "the good shepherd"

The good shepherd is not the hired hand. The hired hand does the job. He feeds the sheep, he knows the paths, he keeps things running. From the outside, everything looks the same. But when danger comes…? When the wild animal comes? He runs. Because the sheep aren't his. There's nothing worth dying for.  The good shepherd is different. He doesn't stay inside the comfortable shelter. He's out in the field, under the open sky, through the cold nights and the burning days.  And when something threatens the flock. He steps forward. He places himself between the danger and the sheep. He puts his life on the line. And that is exactly who Jesus is.

The reason Jesus calls Himself the good shepherd is not simply because He risked His life.

It’s not because He knew where the best grass was.It’s not because He could guide the sheep better than anyone else.

It’s this: He did not run from danger. Instead, He stepped into it.

He didn’t protect the sheep from a distance. He placed Himself between us and what would destroy us. He used His own body as the shield. That is the whole point. That is the defining difference. The good shepherd doesn’t just care.The good shepherd gives everything.

And Jesus didn’t just say those words. He lived them.

My dear brothers and sisters, today is 'Good Shepherd Sunday.' We remember the ANZAC veterans because they put their lives on the line. We don't take that lightly. We don't reduce it… to a nice story. We honour it because something that costly deserves to be honoured.

How much more, then, should we hold onto what Jesus has done? When we say, “He is my shepherd,” we are not simply saying, “He guides me to good places.”We are saying, “He laid down His life for me.”“He is the one I follow.” “He is my Shepherd.”

So, what is the challenge for us today?

I think the answer is not far away. In fact it is sitting among us this morning.

We have a very special guest with us today, Sunny, from Frontier Services. Sunny travels into the Australian outback, into places where few people go, to be a friend to those who would otherwise be forgotten.

As I prepared this sermon, I kept thinking, this is what the good shepherd looks like in our time. Most people stay where life is comfortable. Sunny goes where it is needed. Into the heat. Into the cold. Into the long silence of isolation. There is a cost. Not just for him, but for his family as well. This is not an easy life. It is a life poured out for others.

I feel a little uncomfortable standing here speaking about the Good Shepherd, knowing that Sunny is here among us. Because he is living it. And I’m not sure I could.

But perhaps that is exactly where the invitation lies. The offering we give today for Frontier Services is not just a 'donation.' It is a confession that we want to share in the heart of the Good Shepherd.

I would say, that remembering the love of Jesus, who laid down His life for us, we are choosing to become, in our own small ways, little shepherds.

People who open what is ours…and share it with those beyond our fence. We pray that: There is a Good Shepherd here who has not forgotten you.

A number plate: DMZ 38P.     A sticker: Love Korea.

Why does he still love Korea? Why can’t he let it go?

We can see when we lay our lives down for something, we love it. We can't help it.  That’s the truth we’ve been sitting with today.  A hard truth… but a beautiful one.

And if that is true, then what does it mean that Jesus laid down His life for us?

His love is not casual. It is not conditional. It does not fade when things become difficult. It is the love of the One who went all the way and came back. Because He gave everything.

That is our Shepherd. Our Good Shepherd.

And where is this Shepherd now?

Not hiding behind the gate. Not waiting in a safe and comfortable place. He goes ahead. He steps into the hard places first. Into the places we are afraid to go. Into the broken, painful, unfinished parts of this world.  

And from there He calls our names. Yes, Now it's our turn.

We are not called to do something dramatic. But perhaps something smal  for someone. Because we have received this life-giving, life-risking love, we can begin to share a little. This is the life of what we might call a “little shepherd.”

“Stay in the green pastures. Stay by the still waters. That’s enough. Don’t worry about the rest.”  The world whispers, It sounds reasonable but we know our lives aren't always like that. That’s not the voice of our Shepherd.

And today, that same voice is calling your name, and mine.Calling each one of us, personally.

So we ask ourselves: What am I risking my life for?Have I ever risked anything for someone else?

As I close, let me share something personal. As I walk this journey with you as your minister, do you know when I feel the greatest joy? It’s when I hear someone say, “He is my minister.” ”You are my minister” Those words are more precious to me than any title or praise. And then I wonder… what about our Lord?  He is the Good Shepherd. When we say and call with humble heart, 'He is my Good Shepherd; He laid down everything for me,' imagine how much joy that brings to His heart! When we say, from a humble heart, “He is my Good Shepherd. He laid down everything for me,”  How much joy must that bring to His heart?

Today, let’s remember that He is the one who risked His life for us, and therefore, He cannot help but love us.

As we follow the voice of that Good Shepherd today, we are living as 'Little Shepherds' in this world. We are living the 'real life' as the precious lambs of the Good Shepherd.

So let us walk this beautiful, costly, and glorious path… together. Amen.

May the voice of the Good Shepherd, who laid down His life for you, go before you this day.

May you hear Him calling your namein places of comfort… and in places of need.

May His sacrificial love fill youand overflow in quiet courage toward others.

And as you go,may you walk not only as those who are led,but as little shepherds—carrying His love into a world that longs to be found.

And now,may the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ,the love of God,and the fellowship of the Holy Spiritbe with you, and remain with you always.

Amen.