A Shepherd's Voice - 5-8-22
A Shepherd’s Voice
John 10:22-30; Ps 23
John 10:22-30
At that time the festival of the Dedication took place in Jerusalem. It was winter, and Jesus was walking in the temple, in the portico of Solomon. So the Jews gathered around him and said to him, “How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly.” Jesus answered, “I have told you, and you do not believe. The works that I do in my Father’s name testify to me; but you do not believe, because you do not belong to my sheep. My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand. What my Father has given me is greater than all else, and no one can snatch it out of the Father’s hand. The Father and I are one.”
Ps 23
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters; he restores my soul. He leads me in right paths for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff— they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long.
Prayer – Still speaking God, there are so many voices vying for our attention in the world today. And yet it is your voice that soothes, comforts and restores. Help us to be cognizant that as your beloved people you will continue to speak to us, will continue to guide us and call out to us when we are lost. You will even seek us out when we are far away from your flock for we are just as important as the other 99 – amen.
If I were a Ukranian Christian, hunkered in a basement is Mariupol, listening to the sounds of tanks, missiles and mortars destroying the city I call home, what passages of scripture would grip my heart and form my prayers? If I knew that beloved members of my family were fighting in the resistance or had fled the country as refugees or worst of all were lying dead in the streets of the city, would my thoughts be dominated by questions, curses and despair? Would there be even the smallest space for the living word of God to sustain my trembling soul?
For me, these questions are hypothetical; however, for our brothers and sisters in Ukraine, they are agonizingly real. I can imagine that Psalms of imprecation and lament are finding their way into prayers of those who ‘are being killed all day long and accounted as sheep for the slaughter.’ A few examples come to my mind – “Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord. Lord, hear my voice.” Or perhaps the words from the lips of Christ on that Good Friday – “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning?”
Our two passages this morning are considered part of Shepherd Sunday on this Mother’s Day. In our gospel passage from John’s gospel, Jesus, the Good Shepherd tells us that everything depends on being part of his flock. Never does our status before God depend on how we feel, on having the right prayerful experience, on being free from doubt, or on what we accomplish. Rather, it depends on one thing only, that we are known by the shepherd. “My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish.”
The voice of the Good Shepherd is a voice that liberates rather than oppresses. It does not say, “Do this, and then maybe you will be good enough to be one of my sheep.” It says, “You belong to me already. No one can snatch you from my hand. Even if you are lost I will search you out. Far is never too far.” What security and comfort is offered in these words that we are both beloved and known, period.
Of all the biblical psalms, perhaps the 23rd Psalm is the most well-known. Most of us memorized this OT passage as quickly as we did John 3:16 while still a child. Its words now move upon my lips with a sort of muscle memory born of much silent repetition, recalling me to the truth of God’s love and knowledge of both who and whose I am. These words are so deeply ingrained into many Christians and yet these words can still stir, revealing truths that ground us in times of peace and despair.
The eight verses of the 23rd Psalm contain no lament, no imprecations, only a trustworthy respose under the care and guidance of the Shepherd. How can this poem speak to us in time of war, when green pastures and still waters have been laid waste by an enemy without regard for human life? When the bad guys are winning, raping and killing our loved ones and neighbors and the Shepherd seems to have gone AWOL, what does Psalm 23 say to us?
Perhaps part of the answer to these difficult questions to unanswerable questions comes in the recognition that Psalm 23 is not intended to apply in times of peace. Though the psalm may have suffered from sentimentalization and overuse in funeral services, it is intended to be a song that inspires courage and confidence at all times, and especially when caught in a valley of death and when surrounded by enemies.
Those who closely study the linguistic and literary features of the Psalms tell us that Ps 23 contains fifty-five Hebrew words and that word number 28, the one at the precise center of the poem is “you” which is the first time God is addressed directly in the second person. The middle word of the psalm is part of the middle phrase, ‘You are with me.’ Combine this with the fact that the word ‘Lord’ is used only twice, once in the opening phrase and once in the closing phrase, and you recognize a poetic structure that reveals a spiritual reality. Our Lord, the Shepherd, is with us at the beginning and end of the journey and every point in between.
As former professor, author and theologian, Walter Brueggemann has written, “It is God’s companionship that transforms every situation. It does not mean that there are no deathly valleys, no enemies, but they are not capable of hurt. Psalm 23 knows that evil is present in the world, but it is not to be feared. Confidence in God is the source of a life of peace and joy.”
The table prepared by the Lord in the presence of my enemies is a powerful image, evocative of other biblical feasts, banquets and meal fellowship. For followers of Jesus, the most profound connection is with the Table of the Lord, where we gather to remember the suffering and torture of Christ at the hands of his enemies. Surrounded by forces intent on his destruction, Jesus prepared a meal and invited his disciples to enjoy it with him before he suffered.
Christianity today is filled with a plethora of voices. And while I don’t want to debate the validity of some of those voices, I do believe that there is one voice that rings most true all of the time – and that is the voice of God as incarnated in Jesus. In Jesus, the word, the voice of God is made flesh. God shows us rather than tells us. Jesus continues that through the miracles he performs, the signs that he uncovers, and the encounters he has with people in the places they live, worship, work and travel. And in all of those encounters the one constant is that Jesus knows and gets to know the people. His voice is a voice of love and forgiveness, of compassion and grace in his encounters with everyday people.
For most of us, growing up, there were voices that knew us. Our parent’s voices, a father and a mother’s voice knew who we were, and way too many times what we had done. I don’t know about you but I could always tell what my parents knew by the tone of their voice. Whenever I heard my full name, I knew that my parents knew and that knowing was . . . well you know what I mean.
Other voices that knew us were our teachers in school, perhaps our church school teachers, and youth leaders. Having played sports while growing up, the voices of encouragement and even correction were filtered by wanting the best of us and the best for us. The voices of friends and colleagues over the years still ring in my head as I recall moments of meaning as well as moments of conflict. And perhaps the most powerful voice I have heard over the years is more often silent than not. It is the voice of presence and care when a friend or loved one simply and silently sits by my side as I face life’s challenges. The quiet holding of space may very well reflect the divine as much as someone, if not more, than someone offering words of comfort and solace when there are truly no words. Having sat with literally hundreds and hundreds of families when devastating news is delivered, I don’t have the words, but I can offer the caring and silent presence of bearing witness to their pain and suffering. Of the many letters and cards I have received for being there, less than five have thanked me for what it is that I said.
A Shepherd’s voice is a voice that knows us, knows our qualities as well as our dark sides, and still it is a voice that wants to draw us closer and closer to divine intimacy. Jesus speaks to us of the Shepherd’s voice today. It is a voice of promise. It is a voice that promises stubborn protection and care. It is voice that the flock hears and knows, because it is voice that know each and every sheep. It is the voice that is especially precious in times of struggle and pain. And it is one that sometimes we have to work harder to hear in better times when other voices are especially loud and can drown out the Shepherd’s voice of knowing. And yet, even when those other voices overwhelm; yes, even when we don’t pause and listen, it is a voice that is always there, inviting and comforting and urging us on.
In those times when I can’t quite hear the Shepherd’s voice, I find I am especially blessed to hear others witness to the sound – whether it be those who grieve asking to hear again the promises our Shepherd’s voice has whispered in an ear an entire life. Or it could be the beautiful song of a child singing, Jesus loves me this I know, pointing to the safety and protection and joy of being known and loved by the person of Jesus as only a two year old can. It is so important that when I can’t hear it for myself, I do find myself grateful to be able to walk with others for whom that precious voice is ringing clear. Those times remind me to pause and listen, too. For the Shepherd is always calling out to me as well as you, all of the time.
On this Shepherd Sunday, and Mother’s Day, we are reminded that there are voices that speak to us in a variety of ways. There are words of comfort and love in a mother’s voice just as there is comfort and love in God’s still speaking voice. Our two passages this morning, from John’s gospel as well as from Psalm 23, reminds us that God sustains, provides, and cares for his flock not once but time and time and time again. Fleeing from Egypt, returning from Exile, while meandering around fields and offices and retirement, as we walk through dark valleys and as missiles drop all around us, Ps 23 reminds us that goodness can pursue us as well as travails. Moreover, in this season of Easter, Ps 23 reminds me and hopefully you, to live – in the face of danger and uncertainty, misfortune and daily challenges, even in the face of darkness that might surround us, to live knowing that God knows us and will find us when we are lost, and that nothing, absolutely nothing can separate us from the love of a still speaking God who says, I love you today and always – thanks be to God – amen.