They Recognized His Voice

Text:  John 10:1-4,10-11; 21:1-14

In these weeks after Easter, I’ve been spending a lot of my time reading and thinking about the resurrection appearances of Jesus. 

They seem like a natural way to spend our time… as we find ourselves looking for signs of resurrection and hope in the midst of our own time of difficulty.

What surprised me as I turned to the lectionary, however, is that this year, our readings take us not on a journey with the disciples AFTER Easter, but take us back to Jesus debating with the Pharisees and teaching the disciples about what it means to be a shepherd.

This week in our bible study, we talked about the hopes of people in the time of Jesus for the coming Messiah.  One of the primary metaphors the prophets used was that of a shepherd.

Moses prayed that God would anoint someone who would lead the people so they wouldn’t be like sheep without a shepherd. (Numbers 27:15-17)

Ezekiel shared God’s promise that his people would not be scattered forever, but that a single shepherd from the line of David would be sent to feed them. (34:5,23)

As the Pharisees start to test Jesus and push on the edges of who he said he was, Jesus responded that he was the Good Shepherd.

The shepherd who would call the sheep by name and bring them in and lead them out.

The shepherd who would bring abundant life.

The shepherd who would lay down his life for the sheep if necessary.

You know… not many of us have grown up around sheep. 

And even if we have, the way we might shepherd today in the west is very different from how they would have done it in Jesus’ day.

So how about a little ancient shepherding 101?

First, where we might herd our sheep, pushing them towards their destination with dogs or other animals to aid us, the shepherd’s of Jesus day would have led their flocks.

He would have stood near the front, in their midst, and where he walked, they would have walked. 

Wherever he went, they would go. 

The sheep would have known his voice, the voice of the one who protected them… and would also have known the voice of a stranger who might harm them. 

When their names were called by their gentle shepherd, they would go. 

As I read more about sheep this week, I learned that they are smarter than we give them credit for. 

Sheep have excellent long-term memories.  In fact, in a study, a group of animals was shown pictures of the faces of other sheep.  When presented with some, they were given treats, but with others nothing.

Time and time again, when presented with a choice between a face that produced a treat and a face that produced nothing, they knew the difference. 

They recognized the faces of other sheep. 

Sheep carefully discern who they can trust…

Who will seek the best for them…

And once they recognize that person, they will follow them anywhere. 

Fast-forward through Jesus ministry with me for a bit. 

Past Palm Sunday and the trial and crucifixion…

Past the days of fear and trembling for the disciples where they were huddled up in their homes… or had scattered to the winds…

Past the rumors of resurrection…

Past even those first two appearances to the uncertain disciples. 

John’s gospel tells us that a few weeks out from the resurrection, the disciples are tired of hiding.

They are tired of being scared.

They don’t know yet how this whole resurrection thing has really changed their lives.

They want to return to a normal life… but they aren’t sure what that means.

Do we go back to the life of ministry when we were following Jesus?  Or do we go back to whatever time there was before? 

Peter suddenly stands up one day and proclaims, “I’m going fishing.”

It’s what he knows how to do. 

And it’s something to do. 

So five other disciples decide to go with him and spend the whole night on the boat.

They catch absolutely nothing.

But to be honest, it was probably nice to just be out.

To breathe in the fresh air.

To look up at the stars. 

To reflect and ponder and wonder what was going to come next.

You see, they were feeling a little lost.

Jesus was alive, but he wasn’t there.

Some of them had scattered. 

They didn’t know where to go next or what to do.

They were like sheep without a shepherd. 

But as dawn began to break, they looked to the shore and saw someone standing there. 

A voice carried over the water: “Have you caught anything?”

No, they hadn’t.

Their nets were empty.

“Cast your net on the right side and you’ll find some.” The voice called back.

Whether or not they could fully recognize the voice, they could recognize the command.

You see, they had been on boats before. 

They had been asked to trust, and have faith, and cast their nets one more time before.

They had witnessed the miracles of abundance when they could barely pull them in because they were so packed with the catch.

Can you imagine how their hearts must have started beating?

Can you feel the adrenaline?

They tossed their nets and they literally couldn’t bring the net back up it was so full. 

They knew his voice.

They knew their shepherd.

They knew this was Jesus.

And Peter simply can’t contain himself but dives in the water and heads straight for the shore.

The rest of the disciples follow, dragging both the boat and the net with them. 

Before they have even stepped on dry land, there is a fire and fish cooking for breakfast.

You see, the Good shepherd provides for his flock.

Provides safety and comfort.

Food and warmth.

I love this line from John 21:12 “None of the disciples could bring themselves to ask him, ‘Who are you?’ They knew it was the Lord.”

The sheep know the sound of their shepherd’s voice.

They recognize his face.

They know who he is by the provision he offers… both the abundance in their nets and the meal set before him.

You know, I think we, like the disciples, are eager for a little bit of normalcy. 

Unsure of what comes next, we might want to rush back into exactly what had been.

We want to get back to places and people that brought us joy.  Like this video that you sent in of a beautiful afternoon on a lake…

[video, then back to camera]

For you, it might not be fishing, but it might be going into work…

Sitting in your classroom…

Hanging out with friends…

Joining together in ministry…

Gathering with your family…

Heck, even commuting is starting to look good these days!

The disciples were scattered and lost and unsure and so they turned first to what they knew.

They got in a boat and cast out a net.

But you know what, Jesus had called them from that life once before.

He gave them a glimpse of something different.

Something better.

He gave them a purpose that was beyond what they had known.

Beyond the familiar.

Beyond the comfortable old routines.

He gave them authority and power.

He took their gifts and transformed them.

To simply go back is not what our shepherd has in mind. 

No, Jesus doesn’t want that old life… Jesus wants us to experience abundant life.

He wants everything that was to be transformed by what he is offering.

And as soon as they see their shepherd, they know it.

They know that there are things they have learned along the way that have changed them.

They know they are different than when they started.

They know that they are being led in a new direction.

They can see the abundance that awaits if only they have the courage to follow.

I’ve been thinking a lot about these times. 

Will we head right back to what is familiar when this is all over? 

Or will we patiently wait for the voice of Christ to lead us?

You see, our Good Shepherd is watching over us.

Right now, he is leading us through this valley of the shadow of death by keeping us safely within the fold… in our homes and with our family. 

Through the kindness of our neighbors and strangers, we have been able to find still waters and green pastures.

Even in the face of our enemies of illness and isolation and even death, our shepherd is setting a table of abundance. 

Abundant kindness. 

Abundant time with the people who are closest to us.

Abundant creativity.

The cup is overflowing it is so full.

Will we allow ourselves to be filled up in this time of shelter and safety? 

And when the gate opens, will we not just rush out, heading our own way, going back to what is familiar, but will we let the shepherd lead us? 

Stand in the midst of us.

Guide us.

Will we listen to his voice? 

May it be so.

Amen.

The Wilderness: Can These Bones Live?

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Yesterday was my Sabbath day.
I wore pajamas all day long.
I curled up in a chair and played video games.
I watched five episodes of Grey’s Anatomy on the DVR.
I was a sloth.
I was exhausted.
I needed to stop moving,
stop thinking,
to simply be.

But there is a fear
that when we stop moving and thinking and doing
maybe we will never want to start again.
Maybe once we stop
we cannot start again.

I got up from my chair late in the day
And my bones ached.
My muscles hurt.
Every joint felt like it was crying out.

Don’t get old, Katie,
my dad always tells me.
Don’t get old, because your body stops working.
It starts talking back.
It cries out and lets you know what aches.
It tells you that you are fragile.
You are merely bones and flesh.
You are human.
You are not invincible.
You are not wonder woman.
You cannot do it all.

Actually, maybe I need that reminder.

Maybe we need that reminder.

Maybe we need this season called Lent.
Maybe we need to call a time out.
Maybe we need to remember that life is fragile.
Life is precious.
Life is fleeting.

We come from nothing but dust and ashes.
We will return to dust and ashes.

I say those words a few dozen times a year
As I stand with families over an open grave.
As we gently return the bodies of their loved ones to the earth.

Ashes to ashes.
Dust to dust.

And I find myself telling them…
Telling myself…
That in between those two bookends
We have an opportunity.
A beautiful opportunity.
To clothe ourselves with new life as well.
A life that extends beyond the valley of the shadow of death.
A life that will overcome even the grave.

Can these bones live?
That is the question on the tip of our tongue
As we watch our loved ones lowered into the earth.
Can these bones live?

The prophet Ezekiel was familiar with that question.
Can these bones live?
Can life return?
Is this really the end of it all?

He witnessed his city under siege.
He saw its walls crumble.
He saw the temple destroyed.
And then, he had to leave everything behind.
Forced against his will
To journey through the wilderness
To a strange land
A foreign land
A hostile land.

From the dust of the earth that city and temple was built.
And to dust it returned.

Ezekiel also knew…
Quite keenly he was aware
That death and dust and destruction
Were the tools of God.

He was called to name the sins of Judah
The transgressions of Jerusalem
With his very body
His bones and his flesh
He bore witness to the impending destruction.

He starved himself long before the siege.
He shaves his head long before he was taken prisoner.
He begins to experience in his very bones
The fear and trembling
That would soon be upon the people.

And part of him has to wonder…
Can these bones live?

Can this dead and lifeless people repent?
Will they see the light?
Are they able to change their ways?
Will it be too late?

Babylon arrives.
The city is destroyed.
The people are sent away.

Ashes to ashes.
Dust to dust.

When I find myself on my knees
Laid low in humility
Brought to nothing
I remember I am dust and ashes
I am the stuff of the earth

And in that moment
Sometimes there is a quiet acceptance.
I am dust and ashes.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
I have reaped what I have sown.

But somewhere in me there something else…
a spark.
something that dares
that yearns
Can these bones live?
Can we begin again?

Even if it way too late…
Is it ever too late?

After all,
We began as dust.

And as dust,
You, God,
You breathed life into us.

That spark I feel.
That yearning.
That calling.
That desire to live
To truly live and love and move and serve.
To do it right.
To do it well.
That is Your presence in me.

Your breath in us.
Stirring… calling… pushing.

The city was in shambles.
The people were scattered.
And there was this divine spark
Speaking in Ezekiel’s soul.
Stirring… calling… pushing…

And that spirit led him out of himself
Out of captivity
Out of complacency

Can these bones live?

It was a question Ezekiel wasn’t sure if he dared to utter.
It was a question that he longed to speak aloud but couldn’t.
It was a question of hope.
And hope was now a stranger to him.

So God asked the question instead.

Can these bones live?

Can your bones live?
Do you believe that I can breathe life into you again?
Are you willing to risk that it is not too late?

Ezekiel isn’t sure.
Lord God, only you know…
Only God can do it…
If it could be done.

And God calls him to stand.
God calls him to speak.
God calls him.
And he answers.

Out of dust and ashes.
Out of hopelessness.
Out of grief.
Out.

Ezekiel speaks.
And the bones start to shake.
The earth starts to quake.
Everything is at once falling apart and coming together.
A great transformation.
Everything changing.
Everything becoming.
Bones.
Flesh.
Sinew.
Skin.

And then there was breath.
God’s breath.
The Holy Spirit rushing like the wind.
Filling those bodies.
Standing them up.
Calling them back to life.

We are ashes.
We are dust.
We are bones.
We are sinful people, brought low by our deeds.

And yet…
There is that spark…
that breath…
that glimmer of God…

Telling us it is not too late.
It is not too late to stand.
It is not too late to live.
It is not too late to love.
It is not too late to repent.
It is not to late to act.

On my own, I can’t do it.
I will burn out.
I will falter and make mistakes.
On my own I’m not strong enough.
I am dust and ashes.

But… and… I am more than dust and ashes.
Because I am also the Lord’s.
And this body.
This flesh.
These bones.
Are filled with the Spirit.
And this body.
This flesh.
These bones.
Are part of the body of Christ.

When I stop, for just a moment.
When I let my bones and flesh rest.
It is then that I remember
God is with me.
God is in me.
God is in us.

Can these bones live? God asks.
Can this scattered and broken people live?
Can this church live?

Only you know, Lord.

So, come, Holy Spirit.
Come, Breath of God.
Come and knit us back together.
Come and fill us with your life.
Help us to stand.
Raise us up.
Send us out.

lusting whores in Ezekiel…

Well. I’ve been going to a bible study that meets at the church… not necessarily a bible study really… they gather to read the bible together, out loud, and have snacks.

Yesterday morning, Ezekiel 23 happened to be where we were (they are reading straight through… I think they might have started with Jeremiah)… and holy cow! I have never read that chapter before… and I don’t think that any of them had either! The chapter talks about two sisters who are whores… an analogy for the cities of Jerusalem and Samaria… but if you aren’t reading with a careful enough eye or a critical enough spirit, you don’t quite get that right away. I’m not quite sure how they would have preceeded through that chapter without me! And while I tried really hard this morning to keep quiet… mostly so I could observe what normally happens in this group… this chapter was just too difficult!

One thing that I have learned from this group however… well, from the church members in general… is that I need to learn how to love the Bible. I think there is a book by Peter Gomes – The Good Book – and I’m going to try to read it sometime soon. I realized that when I go to the bible to read it, I’m looking for the themes, I’m looking for the historical connections, I’m looking at it academically and critically, thinking of it most of the time as a message for people a long time ago and hoping that with the Holy Spirit’s help that something might apply to my life today. The people I have met in my congregation just love to read the bible. One homebound member actually said that she doesn’t really understand the bible, it gets all confusing, she just loves to read the words. She said – all of that figuring the message out – that’s not for us lay people. And that mindset really confuses me! There is a sort of simpleness too it and part of me wants to challenge them and teach them to learn from the depths of the text. That kind of simple-minded reading of the bible leads to a lot of proof-texting and quoting verses without paying attention to the context. On the otherhand, this group is so passionate about reading the word of God, whether they understand it or not, that they gather each week to read it aloud to one another.

As I thought about it today, I wonder if a lectio divina method would work well with this group. I think that it might add just a little bit of structure to their reading and allow them to focus on smaller isolate chunks and really absorb them deeply. It would give them a chance to lift up phrases that speak to them and help them to look more closely at what is going on.