Listening for Jesus’ Voice

by the Rev. Dr. Paul S. Nancarrow

This sermon is based on John 10:22-30. Click here to listen to an audio version of this sermon.

Today is now the Fourth Sunday of the Easter season – a Sunday that is traditionally subtitled “Good Shepherd Sunday.” Today our scriptures and prayers and praises are focused on the image of Jesus as the Good Shepherd, the One who leads us through life – and who, by his Crucifixion and Resurrection, leads us through the grave and gate of death into eternal life.

We hear that theme in our psalm – “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want … Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”

We hear it in our reading from Revelation – “the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”

And we hear it in our Gospel, when Jesus promises, “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.”

Jesus, our Good Shepherd, promises to call us and to guide us, and he promises that we will be able to hear his voice. What we have to do is learn how to listen.

And that’s not always as easy as it seems. There are so many voices that call to us: voices that come from within ourselves, voices that come from outside ourselves; voices of fear, voices of anger, voices of violence, voices of terrorism; voices that lure us, voices that try to sell us things, voices that interrupt us and never seem to let us speak for ourselves; voices on the television, voices on the radio, voices on the internet, voices in our heads; voices of shame, voices of defensiveness, voices of despair, voices of greed. How do we learn to listen for the voice of Jesus when so many other voices clamor around us all the time?

Well, one of the ways we learn to listen for the voice of Jesus is right here, in worship, in the practice of this liturgy. In our Eucharist we believe that Christ is present with us, through the power of the Holy Spirit, so that Jesus himself speaks and acts in the words and actions of the Eucharist.

When the words of scripture are read out to us, that’s not just a kind of dramatic oral interpretation of an ancient text – that is the Word of God, living and true, sharper than any two-edged sword, addressing us, us, as we are, here and now. You know, that’s why we stand up for the reading of the Gospel in the Eucharistic service: we believe that when the Gospel is proclaimed in the context of the Eucharist, Jesus himself is speaking to us through those words – and so we stand up as a gesture of respect, and as a sign of being eager to be in the company of our Lord.

When the Eucharistic Prayer reminds us how Jesus was at supper with his disciples, how he took and blessed and broke and gave bread and wine to them as a sign of his presence, his very self – and then, in our Eucharist, when we do the very same thing, when we take and bless and break and give bread and wine in communion – we believe that Jesus himself is there in those actions, that his taking and blessing and breaking and giving and our taking and blessing and breaking and giving are made one and the same, so that he lives in us and we live in him, so that our service and worship and ministry is taken up and made part of Christ’s service and worship and ministry, so that we are made members of his Body, his hands and heart and voice to speak and love and serve the world he died and rose to save.

When the priest repeats Jesus’ words – “Take, eat: this is my Body”; “Drink this, all of you: this is my Blood” – then we believe Jesus himself is speaking to us, inviting us to be nourished with his spiritual food and drink.

We hear Jesus’ voice calling us, speaking to us, loving us, in the words and gestures and actions of this Eucharist.

And because we learn to hear Jesus’ voice speaking to us in this Eucharist, we can also learn to hear Jesus’ voice speaking to us in the rest of our lives, as well. Because this Eucharist teaches us to recognize Jesus’ voice and self and presence in the simplest of things – a simple reading of a text, a simple meal of bread and wine – this Eucharist also teaches us to recognize Jesus’ voice and presence in the other simple things of life.

It is here that we learn to hear Jesus’ voice speaking to us in the voices of those we love: a spouse, a child, a co-worker, a friend, a stranger, an enemy.

It is here that we learn to hear Jesus’ voice speaking to us in simple acts of kindness and daily works of generosity – the caring word spoken to a friend, the extra donation given to a charitable cause, the smile and friendly attitude given when everybody else all around seems to be busy and grumpy and isolated, the recognition and acknowledgment given to someone who is different from us, someone not part of our usual set, someone we might ordinarily treat as invisible.

It is here that we learn to hear Jesus' voice speaking to us in works of courageous service, like the people at the Boston Marathon photographed running toward the explosions, to see who they could help; like the officers and agents who went into Watertown on Friday and apprehended the suspect with no further loss of life.

It is here that we learn to hear Jesus’ voice speaking to us in the cry of the poor, the voice for the voiceless, the promise of liberation proclaimed to the oppressed, the keepers and advocates of the environment and the earth, the call to us to be effective instruments of God's justice and God's peace.

It is here, in this Eucharist, that we learn how to listen to Jesus’ voice speaking to us in all the thousand-and-one ordinary things of life, so that we can go forth from this Eucharist and we speak Jesus’ words of wisdom and compassion and love to the world that needs to hear them so very, very much.

Jesus, our Good Shepherd, promises that we will hear his voice, that we will hear his voice speaking to us in and with and through all the varied voices of this life. Let it be our prayer, let it be our joy, let it be our mission, to still ourselves and listen.

Amen.