The Rev. Laura Everett delivers her sermon “A God Who Repairs” during the morning worship service Sunday in the Amphitheater.
When Jesus called himself “the good shepherd,” he was operating on the assumption that his people knew the life of a shepherd — and, that they would know the difference between a good shepherd and a hired hand.
“If we keep following the textiles of Scripture, Jesus is presuming that his listeners know what it is to care for sheep. Those stinky, wooly, needy sheep,” said the Rev. Laura Everett. She preached at the 9:15 a.m. Wednesday morning worship service in the Amphitheater. Her sermon title was “Intimate Knowledge,” and the scripture reading was John 10: 11-18. Again, she used slides to illustrate her sermon.
The first slide was from a billet book from the London Foundling Hospital in the mid-1700s. It showed a name and a birth date. The second slide was from John 10: 14-15, where Jesus calls himself the good shepherd and says he will lay down his life for his sheep
“We are far removed from the fibers of our daily lives, but we do wear all manner of clothing next to our skin,” Everett said. “Nothing could be more intimate.”
She continued, “Yet so many English phrases are found in textiles: worn out, being threadbare, buttoned down, friendship fray, mend a broken heart, a hole in the safety net.”
When Jesus needed to show the intimacy between himself and his followers, and between himself and God, he talked about the shepherd and the sheep. At the London Foundling Hospital, textiles showed the relationship between parent and child.
In her sermon, Everett showed four slides with the names, sometimes, of a child and a textile token. In slide three, a child — No. 11868, named Sarah Tucker — was remembered with “flowered lawn,” a floral design on fine linen. She was abandoned to the London Foundling Hospital on March 4, 1759, and died on March 9, 1759.
Slide four was also a girl, child No. 170, shown on the slide with four narrow ribbons in yellow, blue, green and pink tied in a knot. Her name was Pamela Townley, and after being admitted in 1743, she died in 1746.
Slide five showed a printed calico fabric with a bird in red and blue for a boy, foundling No. 13476, admitted in 1759.
Slide six was for a boy, child No. 453, from 1748 — a yellow ribbon with “My Name is Andrews” written on it in ink.
“It was almost always desperate mothers who had no means of caring for a child who left their children,” said Everett. “A social safety net began to be woven by Christian charitable organizations into orphanages and the Foundling Hospital.”
When a mother left a child, she also left a token — a small, distinctive item that she would know and recognize. The textile would be torn in two, like the Civil War flag Everett described on Monday, so that if the mother could return, she could claim her child.
These tokens were a promise for a future reunion, but kept anonymous to keep the women from perceived shame. Everett told the congregation: “That was the promise, that they could come back, their child would be taken care of and they could return. It was a promise rarely fulfilled. Sickness was endemic and the resources of poor women were few.”
Almost 285 years later, these scraps of fabric still hold intimate knowledge, the promise of being known and remembered.
Jesus said, “I know my own and my own know me.”
Whatever name you were called, said Everett, “wherever you were raised that never had enough food, enough care, enough attention, enough love, whoever never came back to get you, Jesus says, ‘I’ve got it. I am the good parent, the good shepherd.’ ”
She continued, “Jesus said, ‘Do you know how hard it is to stitch yourself up? Stop trying; come back to the flock and let me care for you. I’ll even leave the 99 sheep behind just to get your stink self. I know you, you are mine.’ ” She displayed a slide with the text of John 10: 14-15.
In 2017, Mali-born textile artist Aboubakar Fofana had a two-month installation called “Ka touba Farfina yé,” or “African Blessing.” The installation took him from his home in Bamako, Mali, to Athens, Greece. The remaining slides showed him working on his installation.
He wrote, “Wherever people from the African continent travel, even if they have traveled involuntarily, as was the case with the millions of slaves sent to the Caribbean and the Americas, they always contribute something of huge value and beauty to their new hosts.”
Everett had the opportunity to learn the ancient indigo textile tradition from Foufana. “This tradition became part of the stolen labor, creativity and knowledge of the slave trade in the United States,” she said.
For his installation, Fofana raised 54 sheep, to represent the 54 countries of the African continent. He tended to them along with his indigo plants. He called his installation a parable, which consisted of “54 living sheep, dyed in indigo, and talking about the movement of African people from all over this huge continent to elsewhere.”
He continued with the parable saying, “African people have been pushed, driven and taken from their homelands for centuries now, and the flood of African immigrants shows no signs of abating. All over the world, blue is the color of protection, and if anyone is in need of protection, it is these immigrants.”
“Fifty-four sheep with the trust of their shepherd, washed, bathed, combed, massaged and dyed,” Everett said. “Fifty-four countries, not following tribal lines or natural boundaries, but carved up by colonizers.”
Indigo wears off, as you see your jeans fade, she told the congregation. Her hands were blue a month ago, but indigo is medicinal, antibacterial and antimicrobial.
Fofana’s “African Blessing” was created at a time when many people were leaving Africa with hopes of a better life in Europe. They hoped God and good government would protect them. Fofana said, “Sheep will walk enormous distances to find what they need to be comfortable, but when they have what they need, they will not move, just as no human leaves their homeland to walk into the unknown unless they have to, unless they are pushed.”
“See the good shepherd who cares for the sheep, who seeks to make sure that all are fed and have what they need,” Everett told the congregation. “This is the intimacy of our God who is as close as the clothing we wear.”
Fr. Jim Daprile, a priest in the Diocese of Youngstown, Ohio, presided. Melissa Spas, vice president for religion at Chautauqua, read the scripture. The prelude was “Berceuse,” by Louis Vierne, played by Owen Reyda, 2024 organ scholar, on the Massey Memorial Organ. The Motet Choir sang “The Lamb,” music by John Tavener and text by William Blake, for the anthem. The choir sang a cappella under the direction of Joshua Stafford, director of sacred music and the Jared Jacobsen Chair for the Organist. The postlude, played by Stafford on the Massey Organ, was “Allegretto pensoso,” from Vesper Voluntaries, by Edward Elgar. Support for this week’s services and chaplaincy are provided by the Randell-Hall Memorial Chaplaincy and the J. Everett Hall Memorial Chaplaincy.
