The Good Shepherd and the Sacrificial Lamb: A Good Friday Reflection

This Good Friday, something in my heart has felt different.

I’ve always known Jesus as Savior. As King. As Friend. But this year, I’ve come to know Him more intimately—as the Good Shepherd.

There’s a quiet, tender power in Jesus’ words from John 10:11–18:

“I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep… I know my sheep and my sheep know me… I lay down my life—only to take it up again.”

When I read that, I feel known. Not just casually, but deeply. Intimately. Personally.

Jesus isn’t some far-off figure watching from a distance. He’s not a hired hand who runs when danger comes. No—He stays. He sees. He knows. And most of all, He lays down His life. Willingly. Lovingly. On His own accord. He sees the wolf coming, and instead of running, He steps in between.

And this year, that truth has hit my heart in a brand-new way.

I’ve seen Jesus walk with me when I’ve felt like a wandering sheep. I’ve seen Him gently call me back when I’ve been distracted or discouraged. I’ve felt His presence in moments of uncertainty, reminding me that He is near, He is leading, and He is good.

But here’s the most beautiful part: The Shepherd became the Lamb.

From Shepherd to Sacrifice

It’s the most stunning paradox in all of Scripture—the One who protects the sheep became the Lamb who was slain.

As John the Baptist cried out when he saw Jesus approaching:

“Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!”

(John 1:29)

This isn’t just poetic. It’s foundational. It takes us all the way back to the first Passover, when God instructed the Israelites in Egypt to sacrifice a spotless lamb and mark their doorposts with its blood. That night, death “passed over” every home covered by the lamb’s blood (Exodus 12).

It was a sign. A shadow. A sacred whisper of what was to come.

And what came was Jesus—the perfect, sinless Lamb who would shed His blood once and for all to rescue not just one nation, but all of humanity.

Paul writes, “Christ, our Passover lamb, has been sacrificed” (1 Corinthians 5:7).

The cross wasn’t an accident. It was a divine appointment. At the very hour Passover lambs were being slaughtered, the Lamb of God was hanging on a cross, pouring out His blood—not to cover sin temporarily, but to erase it eternally.

This is what Isaiah 53 prophesied with stunning accuracy:

“He was led like a lamb to the slaughter… and the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all.”

(Isaiah 53:6-7)

I don’t think I’ll ever fully grasp the weight of that sacrifice. But today, I sit in awe of it.

Because He didn’t have to do it.

“No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord.”

(John 10:18)

Jesus chose the cross. He chose us.

We Are the Sheep

Scripture makes it clear: we are the sheep in this story. The ones who wander. The ones who lose our way. The ones who desperately need a Shepherd.

“We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to our own way…”

(Isaiah 53:6)

And yet Jesus, our Good Shepherd, came running after us. He didn't wait for us to clean ourselves up or find our way home. He came to find us. To rescue us. To carry us on His shoulders, even if it meant walking through the valley of the shadow of death Himself.

As Psalm 100:3 reminds us:

“Know that the Lord is God. It is He who made us, and we are His;

we are His people, the sheep of His pasture.”

How incredible is that?

We are His. Loved. Cared for. Protected. Pursued. Known.

One Flock, One Shepherd

There’s a verse in John 10 that brings tears to my eyes every time I read it:

“I have other sheep that are not of this sheep pen. I must bring them also… and there shall be one flock and one shepherd.”

(John 10:16)

This is the heart of Jesus. Not exclusive, but inclusive. He didn’t die for just a few—He died for all. For the outcast, the broken, the weary. For you. For me.

Even now, He’s calling to hearts across the world, “Come home.” The Shepherd who laid down His life is gathering His sheep from every corner of the earth. And one day, there will be one flock and one Shepherd—united in love, gathered in grace, safe forever.

The Cross Is Not the End

Good Friday is heavy. It should be. But it’s not hopeless.

Because this Shepherd—this Lamb—didn’t stay in the grave.

“I lay down my life—only to take it up again.”

(John 10:17)

Sunday is coming. Resurrection is coming. Glory is coming.

But today, we pause at the cross. We weep at His sacrifice. We worship at His feet. And we remember with awe and gratitude:

The Good Shepherd stayed. The Lamb was slain. The tomb was temporary. And love has the final word.

This Good Friday, may you feel the tender love of the Good Shepherd. May you know the power of His sacrifice, the safety of His fold, and the unshakable truth that you are His.

He laid down His life for you—not out of duty, but out of delight.

And He took it back up again—so that you could live forever in His love.

Let us stand in wonder at the cross. Let us follow the voice of the Shepherd. Let us worship the Lamb who was slain.

Because He is worthy.

“Worthy is the Lamb, who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and praise!”

(Revelation 5:12)