Mother’s Day is a mixed bag. This day can elicit profound joy or swallow us into devastating sorrow (sometimes both at the same time). It is good, very good, to show love and appreciation for the moms in our lives. Those handmade pictures and family lunches and words of encouragement can fuel us moms and help remind us that our labor for the Lord is not in vain.

But it is very likely that each one of us know some pain on this day, either for someone we’ve lost or something we’ve never had. We carry with us the scars of infertility and miscarriage and infant loss. We’ve buried babies, and we’ve mourned the loss of mothers and wives and grandmothers. Memories surface today as we remember the words we’ve said in anger towards our children or the cutting remarks flung our way. So this day is both/and, both joy-filled and sorrowful – something our friend Jesus knows a lot about. Just a few weekends ago, we encountered Jesus’ suffering in the Garden of Gethsemene. Jesus had faith and hope in his Father’s plan and “for the joy set before him endured the cross.” But that didn’t make the suffering any easier. Jesus knows what it’s like to desperately wish for another plan, a way out of the suffering.

Our Scriptures this morning lend comfort and also invite us to remember (or learn for the first time) that following Jesus is also both/and: both personal and communal.

We read together the words of the most well-known Psalm, Psalm 23. No other Psalm is so personal. Our God is inviting us to know him and to be known by him. The Lord is my Shepherd, he restores my soul, he leads me, his rod and staff comfort me, he feeds me and anoints me, and fills my cup to overflowing.

I loved the question one commentator wrote reflecting on the personal relationship between the us and our Shepherd-God, William Brosend (Prof of Homiletics) asks: “What are you and God up to these days?”

As we get to the end of Psalm 23, there’s this line about: “Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life…” followed by “Dwelling in the house of the Lord forever.” I loved what I read from commentator, David Petersen, who pointed out the paradox of being pursued and dwelling forever. The Psalmist knows he will be followed…pursued…chased by “goodness” and “steadfast love” forever while also dwelling safely in the house of the Lord. How can being pursued and dwelling forever in one place be mutually true? My mind took me to a place of picturing a child being chased in a game of tag or by a loving Tickle Monster. Yes, they’re running and screaming, but all the while knowing they are loved and they are safe.

But let’s take the chasing Goodness and Mercy to another level. What if the goodness and mercy and steadfast love which “follow us all the days of our life” are following us in the form of the Church, the Christian Community in which God has lovingly planted us?

At the same time as we are experiencing the very personal nature of God our Shepherd, we are also to live our faith in community with others. No Shepherd has just one sheep, and no sheep can survive in solitude. The assumption of this Psalm is a an intimate knowing of the Shepherd in the context of life together. We need each other, friends. And especially on days like today, when all of the joyful and painful things of life seem to swirl and churn up to the surface, let us live the Christian life in community with one another.

Let’s take a cue from the Church in Joppa, in Acts 9, and instead of withdrawing from each other in suffering, let us press in toward one another. Yes, Peter performs a miracle. Yes, Tabitha is raised from the dead. Two incredible moments! But I think the real gem of this passage is the healing community surrounding Tabitha. This woman had been living in loving and faithful friendship with her church in Joppa. When she became sick, her church surrounded her with the same support she had been offering them. They were at her side when she died. They washed her body and they laid her in a room upstairs. They heard Peter was in the area and they sent messengers to implore him to “come without delay.” All the while they shed communal tears and told joyful stories and recounted the love they felt when their friend Tabitha was alive. And when their dear friend and leader, Tabitha, was brought back to life, they told everyone what they had seen so that news of God’s power spread throughout the land.

Rev. Stephen Jones notes, “The congregation at Joppa was vulnerable. […] They were unafraid to wade into each other’s lives in transforming ways.” What if our willingness to “wade into each other’s lives in transforming ways” is how we encounter the goodness and mercy of our Shepherd, Jesus, until we can be fully present in the house of the Lord forever?

I urge you, sisters and brothers, “wade into each other’s lives in transforming ways” – to love one another with the love of Jesus. The love of Jesus offers friendship and laughter. It offers solidarity in our tears. It offers shared meals and long walks. The love of Jesus is kind and gentle, strong and steadfast. Let’s love one another as our Good Shepherd has first loved us.