“THE VOICE”

The Psalm:  Psalm 23

The Gospel:  John 10: 1-10

Dr. Matthew Brown

April 17, 2005

 

The great mathematician Blaise Pascal once wrote that the state of man consisted of inconstancy, boredom, and anxiety.  And O what a happy fellow Blaise was.  Actually, he was an individual of profound faith, but he realized that in spite of the hope and promise of faith, life is fraught with stress.

 

Such honest reflection is also seen in the words of the poet Sir William Gilbert who wrote, ‘When you’re lying awake with a dismal headache, and repose is tabooed by anxiety, I conceive you may use any language you choose to indulge in, without impropriety’.

 

A large majority of us would testify to the fact that even the insignificant issues have an impact on your psycho/physiological makeup leading you to choose caustic curse words to direct at the bedside clock that offers the constant news that you are not sleeping well.  It doesn’t take much to throw us off the path of peace.

 

“Bill, I need to talk with you about last month’s sales figures.”

 

Why is it that those words, “I need to talk with you,” so seldom are attached to good news?  You hear those words offered with an expression the poker players call a “tell” and you can just feel your face becoming flush.  Forget about a good night’s sleep tonight.  You know you’ll be staring at the ceiling searching for all the things you should have said.

 

So many things throw us off that path of peace.  You reach for your cell phone to see if you have any messages only to discover that there isn’t any phone.  You think you just have enough time to make it to that appointment, and then you turn a corner and suddenly stop behind a ribbon of traffic that stretches much farther than your eyesight.

 

The doctor enters the room where you are trying to retain some dignity while wearing one of those lovely paper pullovers “I’ve been practicing medicine 35 years and I’ve never seen these symptoms before.”

 

Your child wants to go play with that friend, wants to date that guy, wants to go to that concert.  No, no, and no you say, but the stress does not necessarily go away.

Issues large and small can increase our worries, can rob us of sleep, can familiarize us with an entire shelf of products at the neighborhood pharmacy. 

 

It does seem that in these fast-paced days of job transiencey, constant communication access, and hyper-parenting we talk a lot about stress and ways to deal with it.

 

Not too long ago, I came across one of those self-help pamphlets that offered 101 ways to relieve your stress.

 

Stand up and stretch.  Count to ten - or 1000 - before exploding.  Watch a really good movie.  Call up an old friend.  Hug a tree... Yeah, right! Read a good book.  Build a model ship/Play a round of golf... I thought these were supposed to reduce stress.  Eat an orange slowly, segment by segment.  Go to work a different way... How about by way of California?  Get a good night’s sleep... You don’t understand, that’s the problem.  Take a child to the playground.  Go fishing.  Fly a kite... What if you just told someone else to go fly a kite?  Massage your temples.  Record a journal of your thoughts and feelings (You know, only in America could we manage to get stressed out over trying to keep up the discipline that’s supposed to keep us from getting stressed out).  Smell a rose.  Lie in a hammock.  Take up knitting. 

 

And the list goes on and on offering a plethora of attractive and sometimes strange suggestions like “Take an herb tea break.”  What kind of herbs are they talking about there?  Yet as I read through the entire list I never saw the word prayer; I never saw the word worship; I never discerned any hints of God or Jesus. 

 

OK, I thought, it was from a secular agency, it has to be accessible to a variety of people, but I couldn’t help wondering how eating an orange segment slowly could equate with prayerful conversation with the Prince of peace.  Reading that exhaustive list with no mention of God or prayer or faith, illumined for me the way we, in our exhausting pursuit of peace, of wholeness, of abundant life, we busy ourselves with so many things, we buy ourselves so many things while almost totally ignoring the only things that can possibly fill our deepest needs.

 

My frustration was only multiplied when I went to a very well organized, and in many ways helpful, clergy workshop.  We were there to gain resources that would aid us as we sought to fulfill our role in the church.  And we discussed and learned many positive, constructive things, common sense things that would help the work of the church progress more smoothly and reduce the tension of its leaders.  And yet, as I read through the handouts and exercises, not once was the name Jesus mentioned. 

 

O there was that exercise in the section on coaching (Those of you in business know that coaching is the big buzz word in management today, much like quality control was a decade ago.)  In an outline of strategies for self-coaching, the exercise called for you to:  “Gather a pillow to represent each member of your staff team. (Well, some of you might guess that they lost me right there.)  Anyway, gather a pillow to represent each member of your staff team.  Talk to them as yourself.  Then pretend you are God:  what would God say to them?”  I immediately thought that a lot of preachers already think they are God so that’s not much of a stretch.

 

But apart from that dubious exercise, God, Jesus, the Spirit were seldom included in a workshop designed to make me a better pastor.  I don’t want to seem cynical.  These were faithful people, prayerful people gathered to discern ways to be better shepherds.   We talked about many good things, but we forgot to focus on the essential thing. 

 

Admit it, we all do it.  It happens in church committee meetings.  It happens in your home.  It happens at your place of work or in your school.  On Sunday mornings we stand and say what we believe about the Lord of life, the same Lord whose name fails to come up from day to day as we pursue abundant life.  And so often, in our quest to discover abundant life, all we seem to find is abundant stress. 

 

You know, we’ve got to get the kids to that umpteenth scheduled activity of the day, because that’s going to give them abundant life.  But is it, really?  Please tell me how learning to tie a square knot, or mastering the scissor kick, or hitting the cut-off man, or selling cookies is going to open the door to abundant life more so than soaking in the power of Jesus’ parables or learning the discipline of the regular practice of prayer?

It’s not that those other activities aren’t great, wonderful.  But in chasing so many good things, we so often neglect the essential thing.  And you know, if we neglect Jesus enough, we will possibly forget the sound of his voice.

 

Do you remember the movie Sleepless in Seattle where Tom Hanks plays a widowed father of a young boy?  Do you remember the scene where the boy wakes up so upset from a nightmare?  And as his father is calming him down, the boy asks his dad something about his mom and then he says something very significant.  He tells his dad that he’s afraid he is starting to forget her - the sound of her voice, the look in her eyes.

 

We claim to know Jesus, we sing “What a friend we have in Jesus”, but if we just give lip service to that relationship, will we forget his voice?

 

Jesus said the sheep hear the shepherd’s voice.  “He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.  When he has brought out all his own, he goes before them, and the sheep follow him, for they know his voice.  A stranger they will not follow, but they will flee from him, for they do not know the voice of strangers.”

 

“...And the sheep follow him, for they know his voice.”  Would you know his voice?  Do you know who you are following?  In this passage Jesus says, “I am the door.”  A little later he says, “I am the good shepherd.”  A little later he says, “I am the way.”  It’s almost as though Jesus is saying, “How many pictures do you need me to draw?”

 

So how do we learn to hear Jesus’ voice?  Practice.  Practice.  What does the right voice sound like?  Think about it.  We know the voice.  “Love your enemies.”  “Pray for those who persecute you.”  “If you have two cloaks and your neighbor has none, give one to him.”  We can learn to recognize the voice.  In John’s resurrection story, a grieving Mary thinks she has come upon a gardener until she hears his voice.  She had learned to know his voice.  She recognized it when she heard it.

 

One of the great pillars of the southern Presbyterian Church was a pastor and professor by the name of Wellford Hobbie.  When he was a young man, late in high school or early in college, he was out with a group of guys carousing.  And they got on this elevator and there was a woman there, but his friends kept on with the crudity, the vulgarity, and the rudeness.  Hobbie stood there somewhat embarrassed and quiet.

 

When the woman got off the elevator, she turned to Hobbie, looked him in the eyes and said, “You don’t belong with them.”  He said it was the voice that sparked the beginning of his sense of call to ministry.  Would you know, would you recognize the voice of Christ?

 

There are many voices out there offering any number of clues about how to make your way in this life but they cannot offer abundant life.  They may offer you 101 ways to relieve stress or try to replace the loving voice of Christ with their own political agenda.  I grow so weary of those who want to talk about the need for biblical values but seem to know nothing about the character of Jesus (his compassion for the poor, his love for those society judges, his willingness to laugh with those the religious leaders scorned, his power to heal broken spirits).  Stop thinking so much about what’s wrong with your neighbor and start considering the unbelievably wide umbrella of God’s love.

 

 There is a voice that can offer peace.  There is a voice that will grant us a new understanding of what constitutes abundant life.  Jesus said, “He goes before them, and the sheep follow him, for they know his voice. . . I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”  O at some level, I think we know the voice, but are we listening for it? 

 

Amen.     

 

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