“Voices” (John 10:22-30)

On this Mother’s Day we celebrate our mothers.  I can remember that as a child that it was only my mother who could console me when I had fallen or gotten hurt.  How it only took the sound of her voice to calm me down.  I can remember how she was that calming influence . . . that refuge of safety . . . whenever my world seemed to be spinning out of control no matter what age I was.  I can remember how happy I was to hear her voice across the thousands of miles when I grew up and moved away.  In her voice I found all that I needed to know that I was loved and wanted.  I remember my mother’s voice even though it has been many years since she has died . . . and, I miss it.  What I would do to hear her voice one more time and to know that I was loved . . . that I was wanted.

I know that I am not the only one who feels that way.

I think that it is the same for my children . . . it has always been in their mother’s voice that they have found the reassurance necessary to know that they were loved and wanted.  Not that they didn’t believe that I loved and wanted them.  It was just that their mother’s voice could stop the tears, ease the pain, and restore the hope.  And, it is the same with my grandchildren.  If mom and dad are in the same room when one of the grandchildren trips and does a face plant, they don’t go running to Daddy . . . no, they run to Mommy.  There is just something about a mother’s voice that lets children know.

I heard a story about a couple whose marriage was falling apart . . . they were contemplating divorce.  But, they weren’t quite ready to throw in the towel, and so, they made an appointment to see a counselor.  They told the counselor that they loved each other, but just couldn’t stand to be with one another.  Hearing that the counselor pulled out two chairs, put them back to back in the middle of the room, and then told the couple to sit in them.  Then he turned out the lights creating total darkness.  Then he told the couple to say each other’s name . . . over and over, and to keep doing it until they heard their names like they used to say them when they were madly in love with one another.

They asked the counselor when they should stop.  The counselor replied, “You’ll know when you hear it . . . it will be in the voice.”

Apparently, the voice was the key to what Jesus was attempting to explain to the people who gathered around him wanting to know whether he was the one . . . the Messiah.  They wanted a straight answer, to which Jesus says, “I did tell you, but you do not believe.”  Repeatedly, Jesus told them . . . he told them in the miracles he had done . . . he told them in the acts of compassion he had done . . . he told them in the way that he lived his life . . . but, they would not believe.  They were not of his flock, not one of his sheep.  He tells them, “My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me.”  And, because they do, all that comes with knowing his voice and believing, is theirs.  It is theirs through their relationship with God . . . the love, desire, and knowing that they are wanted.

In the voice they hear the reassurance.

The psalmist speaks of that reassurance in the 23^rd Psalm:

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall lack nothing.

He makes me lie down in green pastures,

He leads me beside quiet waters,

he restores my soul.

He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will 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 ad love will follow me all the days of my life,

and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

Those who believe . . . they hear that voice . . . that voice of reassurance, nurture, love, and desire . . . that voice of Jesus.

Unfortunately, all of us hear many voices every day of our lives.  There are voices everywhere!  There are voices all around us.  There are the voices we hear on our radios and television sets.  There are voices in the people we relate to . . . family, friends, and co-workers.  There are voices we hear in our gatherings, worship services, club meetings, and sitting around shooting the breeze and enjoying a cup of coffee.  There are voices in the books, magazines, and newspapers we read.  There are voices in the movies we watch and the songs we hear.  There are voices everywhere . . . and, they are all demanding our attention . . . wanting to us to listen to them, believe in them, and follow them.  There are so many voices it makes our heads spin just trying to hear them all.

In the end, though, which voice is the voice that brings to us that knowledge that it is the one true voice that brings to us that reassurance of being loved and wanted.  Which is that voice that lets us know that we are where we need to be.  That voice that lets us know that we are on the right path . . . that we are not alone.

I imagine that if you ever heard Jesus call your name, that you would remember that voice.  It is hard to forget once we have heard that voice in our lives; yet, that voice is sometimes drowned out in the noise of all the other voices in our lives vying for our attention.  It is in those moments that we seem to forget.  But the voice is there.

The voice is there.

The voice is there when we pause a moment to acknowledge another person in his or her sadness or joy.  The voice is there when we take the time to help another in their time of need.  The voice is there when we feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and give water to those who thirst.  It is there when we pick someone up who has fallen, who needs a hug, and whose tears we wipe away.  The voice is there when we cry out for those who are lost . . . those who are forgotten . . . and, those who are oppressed.  The voice of Jesus is there when we take the time to care and love.

That is the voice Jesus refers to when he answers those who are gathered around him in the temple questioning whether or not he is the one. 

The voice is there . . . we just have to listen.

And, if we still cannot hear the voice, then maybe we heed the words of God . . . found in verse 10 of the 46^th psalm . . . “Be still, and know that I am God . . .”

It is a voice that we will know when we hear it.

Sometimes that is all we need to make it through the darkest times in our lives.

There once was a time when I was really struggling in my life while in college . . . wasn’t sure what the future held . . . nothing seemed to be going right.  Life was pretty miserable and dark . . . pretty worthless.  So, I made a call.

After several rings, a voice came on the phone . . . it was my mother.  “Is everything all right?” she asked.

Overwhelmed, I answered, “Yeah . . . I just needed to hear your voice.”

So, it is with the Holy.  We just need to hear.  Amen.

“In the Way He Said My Name” (John 10:22-30)

In Lois Tverberg’s (“tuh-Ver-berg”) blog, Our Rabbi Jesus, she tells the story of a Ph.D. student who spends several months a year in Israel as a part of her studies.  One day while walking on a road near Bethlehem, she watched as three shepherd converged with their separate flocks of sheep.  They all greeted one another and then began talking.  While they were talking, the sheep wandered and intermingled, melting into one big flock. 

Witnessing this she began to wonder how the three shepherds would ever be able to identify their own sheep . . . so, she waited.  When the time came for each of the shepherds to head their own ways, she watched with fascination as each of the shepherds called out to their sheep.  At the sound of the shepherd’s voice . . . like magic . . . the sheep separated into three flocks.

After thousands of years . . . nothing has changed.  The sheep know their shepherd’s voice.

Jesus has called us by name.  He has called each of us by name, and we have responded to that voice . . . we have embraced his call upon our lives to follow him.  And, we know that he walks with us as our Shepherd.  How does the song go?  You know the song . . . In the Garden:

I come to the garden alone

While the dew is still on the roses

And the voice I hear falling on my ear

The Son of God discloses.

And He walks with me, and He talks with me,

And He tells me I am his own

Like the sheep we know the Shepherd by his voice . . . in the way that he says our name.

In our scripture reading this morning, it is the winter . . . probably around December . . . and the Jews have come to Jerusalem to celebrate the Feast of Dedication, or what we know as Hanukah.  One day Jesus is walking through Solomon’s Colonnade . . . a very special and sacred place . . . when he is confronted by a group of very devout Jews who begin to question him about when he is going to come right out and tell everyone that he is the Messiah.  These are devout Jews . . . devout people of the faith . . . who are curious about whether or not Jesus is the One, if he is the Messiah.

Of course, Jesus answers them . . . answers them quite bluntly.  He tells him that he has already told them who he is . . . he has done it in the words that he spoke and the actions—the miracles—that he has done.  Then he tells them that basically, they were not listening.  Had they been listening they would have heard, and if they had heard they would be following him . . . they would be one of his flock.  They would have recognized it in his voice . . . in the way that he said their names.

Years ago, Hebert Brokering wrote a small book of modern parables called, I Openings.  In one of the parables he tells the story of a couple who go to a marriage counselor because they are ready to get a divorce.  Instead of talk therapy, the counselor grabs two chairs that she puts back to back in a room.  He tells the husband and wife to sit down in the chairs.  Then he tells them that their task is to call out each other’s names . . . and to keep doing it until they hear their names once again in that way that they did when they fell in love.  She tells them to not come out until it happens . . . then she leaves.

Now I doubt if any couple who were contemplating divorce would put up with such a strange request; yet, at the same time, the counselor understood.  The counselor understood the power of the voice . . . how the voice can break through and bring hope.  It is all in remembering how the beloved has called our names . . . it is in that voice that we recognize the Shepherd.

How many countless movies have we seen the plot when someone is terribly mangled . . . mangled to the point that he or she is no longer recognizable; but when the person speaks to those closest to them . . . they recognize their loved one.  Or those movies where two people, as children fall in love, move away from each other, and later discover one another again . . . in the way that they said each other’s names.  So it is with Jesus.  We recognize him in the way he says our names . . . we recognize his voice . . . and, we follow.

One of the things about being a shepherd is the responsibility of finding food for the sheep . . . not an easy task, especially in a place like Israel where the grass is valued commodity because of its rareness.  Thus the shepherd moves from place to place, rarely staying in the same spot.  After all, the sheep are not fenced in with the feed being brought to them . . . no, they are going wherever the shepherd leads them.  And, they follow because they recognize the voice in the way that the shepherd calls them to follow him in his footsteps.

Well, Jesus is not a feedlot operator . . . no, he is a shepherd . . . a shepherd who always seems to be on the move . . . from one place to another, from one cause to another.   Jesus doesn’t seem to stand still for too long.  He is always on the move . . . always calling us . . . always calling us to follow.

Think about it.

I would be shocked if any of you who are here this morning wouldn’t

admit that your relationship with Jesus . . . that your journey with Jesus . . .

is different than it was when you first heard Jesus call your name.  That you

are not in the place you were when you first decided to follow that voice.  I

think that we are all in deeper and closer relationships with Jesus . . . and, I

think it would be honest to admit that it has not always been easy, and that

we have not always recognized the voice of Jesus in our lives.  Jesus has

taken us to some places we had rather not go . . . at least not until we

heard him call us by name . . . until we recognized his voice in those places

and situations.

These religiously devote Jews who questioned Jesus about whether or

not he was just going to come out and tell them he was the Messiah, well,

they just could not recognize the voice for whatever reason. Until they

could recognize the voice of God through Jesus, they just were not going to

get it.

Of course, those who hear and recognize their name in the voice of the

Shepherd . . . well, they get it all.  They get all the protection, all the grace,

all the hope, all the promise, and all of the companionship that the

Shepherd provides.  Jesus tells the group that is gathered around him this:

“My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me.  I give

them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them

out of my hand.”  The key is in following the voice that calls . . . that

wandering voice that pulls us through life into new situations and

relationship each and every day . . . calls us into service of others . . . calls

us into compassion . . . calls us into mission.  Not always the places we

want to go.  And, when we do not want to go, we have harder time hearing

and recognizing the voice of the Shepherd.

In the song, In the Garden, we sing:

And He walks with me, and He talks with me,

And he tells me I am His own

It is in the way that He says our name that we recognize Jesus . . . in the

good times, bad times, and all the times in-between.  We follow where the

Shepherd leads.  Amen.