Other sermons.            Comments for Jim Sunday, May 6, 2001 Rev. James A. Todhunter "LISTENING TO THE SHEPHERD" PSALM 23 ACTS 9:36-43  JOHN 10:22-30 In the 10th Chapter of John’s Gospel, Jesus beautifully and expressively sums up what it means to be a Christian. He says simply, "My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me." The prophets of Ancient Israel spoke out forcefully against social injustice and religious hypocrisy. But when God felt compelled to sum it all up to Israel, God simply said "Obey my voice." To be a Christian in any age means: hearing the voice of God, trusting the voice of God, and obeying the voice of God. And for Jesus, the master of making complicated and hard things simple, but still hard, the image is the shepherd and the flock. "My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me." And he goes on to say "I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand." We are called to live every single moment of our lives with the understanding that the Lord is our shepherd. It is no halfway deal. Either the Lord is your shepherd and you are one of the Shepherd’s flock or you aren’t. And that gets established, day by day, moment by moment. What is the scriptural context of Jesus’ words? "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." It was winter. Shakespeare’s Richard III begins his first soliloquy with the words "Now is the winter of our discontent." Winter in Palestine is rain and mud. Winter means discontent and a palpable sense of the absence of God. Winter is another word for wilderness. In the winter-wilderness we experience the absence of God when we find ourselves saying "How long?" or "We don’t know what’s happening?" "We want some explanations here." "How is all this going to come out?" "We have a right to know!" In the scripture, the religious authorities of the Temple had swarmed around Jesus and said "How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly." And Jesus answers, "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." Now this is a very interesting response. Jesus’ questioners said "We want facts. Are you the Messiah? Say so clearly." Implied in what they are asking is either that Jesus doesn’t know, or that he does know and is withholding something from them, or Jesus knows and doesn’t explain it very well. But Jesus answers that they don’t get it because they are not among his sheep. In other words, they are unwilling or unable to hear his voice. They don’t trust Jesus that he is a good shepherd to them, the sheep. The true shepherd knows these sheep very well, and they, in turn, immediately recognize the voice of their shepherd. You cannot know, you cannot understand, the most important things in your live, outside this relationship of good shepherd and trusting sheep. This relationship helps us frame the questions in the right way, and listen for the answers in the right places. They say that a fool can asked questions a wise person cannot answer. You’ve probably heard this old story, but I still like it. There was an old man who lived on a hill in solitude, and was known as a person of tremendous wisdom. There was a little boy who was determined to show the old man he was smarter and to embarrass him. So the little boy caught a young dove in his hands. And he climbed the hill with a few of his friends at his side, clutching the dove. Approaching the old man he said, "If you are so wise and know everything, you must certainly know the future as well as the past. Tell me then, wise old man, what is the future of this dove? Will it live or will it die?" What the boy had in mind, of course, was that if the old man said the dove would die, the boy would free it to fly away. If the old man said the dove would live, the boy would crush it to death before everyone’s eyes. The old man thought a moment and then said, "The choice, my son, is yours." Jesus does this sort of thing all the time. He takes questions to him, whether they be well-intended or mischievous, and turns them inside out so that they really become things that illuminate the faith or lack of faith of the questioner. "How long will you keep us in suspense? Are you the Messiah? Give us an answer." Jesus’ response indicates that they already have been given their answer, and what they are really saying is that they aren’t a part of the flock, or they wouldn’t be asking that question. They would not have known the Messiah if they had met him, which, of course, they had. How might this apply to us? Throughout this building process we have found ourselves asking many questions. Sometimes a person will verbalize a question, and we are forced to admit that somewhere in our own hearts, we’ve dared to ask the same question. Along the way we have heard such questions as, "What if this project is just too expensive?" Or "What happens if we don’t meet our Keystones Campaign goal?" Or "What if the neighborhood rises up to fight us?" Or "What if we don’t find a place to have worship when we are out of our building?" Or "I’m afraid no one will want to come to church at 4:00 p.m. on Sunday afternoon." Or "What if the county doesn’t issue the permits we need?" "What if we can’t get a big enough loan?" And at this moment more than one person among us is asking "What happens if we don’t bridge our funding gap with increased Keystones pledges and member financing?" I guess my response to that is this. Imagine yourself as the good and loving and capable shepherd, the one Jesus describes. What do you say, what can you say, when the sheep ask, "How do we know we aren’t going to be eaten by wolves?" What do you say when the sheep say "What if a thief comes and snatches us away when you are asleep?" What do you say when your sheep say, "We are going through a bad stretch of dark valley here, and there is no food and no water, and we are afraid unto death. What is going to happen?" What do you say? Or if you are Moses, what do you say when the Israelites rage against you and cry "Did you bring us out into this wilderness to die?" How would a Churchill or a Roosevelt have responded to somebody who said "What happens if we lose this war? Have you thought about that? Are there any contingency plans in place?" I think we all know how that question would have been answered. It’s the same thing with God. And if a good political leader is entitled to a response that communicates trust and dedication, how much more do we owe it to God to respond that way? Here’s the choice. Either the Lord is our shepherd or not. And if the Lord is our shepherd, we shall not want. Now, having said this, let’s be clear that to respond with the love and trust that God expects demands risk. Demands a leap of faith, demands believing in miracles. This is more than trusting that the mail will come through or that the electricity will eventually come back on after a thunderstorm. It involves believing in miracles, but also in believing that what is going to happen is good, is wonderful, is a gift, is amazing. And that God is the one who will make it happen. The simple gospel of a popular tent preacher like Oral Roberts is "Something good is going to happen to you!" At the very least, that is the gospel. The Gospel is good news. What is so wonderful about the scripture from the Book of Acts is, for me, not so much that it is a miracle story about someone being brought back to life, which it certainly is. What is wonderful about it is that Jesus’ promise has been kept, when he said to his disciples, "Everything that I do, you shall be able to do, when the Holy Spirit comes upon you!" The Good News is not simply that God will continue to work miracles, as wonderful as that is. That Good News is that God will continue to work miracles through you. God will perform miracles. God will perform miracles through you. In fact, you yourselves will be the miracles. In closing, can I predict the future? No. Can I predict with confidence that we will bridge the funding gap and with some left over? No. Can I tell you that even on the other side of this year, we will meet the challenge of an increased budget to pay back this big loan? No. Can I even assure you that this congregation will survive into the next generation? No. All I can really say is two things. Do we have the capacity to accomplish all this and much, much more? There is no doubt about that whatsoever. Therefore, that leaves only one thing left to say. The choice, dear friends, is ours. AMEN. Back to Table of Contents.