Sermon - April 25, 2010

4th Sunday of Easter - Year C
John 10:22-30

Take Time to Listen


I am not a shepherd, and I have never tended sheep. So I really don’t know how, over time, a shepherd feels toward the sheep. I don’t know how Jesus feels about the sheep (or potential sheep) with whom he interacts in today’s Gospel lesson.

I do know that sheep are not the smartest of domesticated animals. They have hardly any ability to look out for themselves. Unless they are lead to green pastures, they will starve. Unless they are shown still waters, they will perish. When they get lost, they lie down and wait for the shepherd to come find them. I wonder whether, over time, a shepherd grows to be exasperated by this. I wonder if it is possible, over the long haul, to remain understanding and patient with a flock whose needs are so great.

I think we can understand both sides of this coin. It is a bit like our experience, here in Clemson. They don’t baa or need to have their fleece trimmed each season, but the University students are sort of like sheep. They are perpetually young; doing the things that young adults do; this flock making the same mistakes as the ones who have gone before. Our church home suffers from the leftovers of weekends gone wild; and yet the congregation understands and realizes how essential it is for us to remain in the heart of town. It is tempting, to loose patience. But, we haven’t, and let us pray that we don’t. For, while the wonderings of 20 year olds seem endless, they remind the rest of us that unless there is a shepherd’s voice we too become lost.

Jesus is in Jerusalem, he is in the temple, when some of those who teeter on the edge of being lost ask him why he won’t tell them plainly whether he is Messiah. Jesus’ response seems, at first, to express frustration. His reply is that he has already told them, but that they won’t believe. He seems to scold them for their inability to hear. But the tone changes very quickly and his words become an invitation to leave behind the helplessness which dominates the lives of all sheep. He reminds them they don’t have to be able to do all things; they only need to be able to do one thing. They don’t have to know it all; they only need to know the sound of the shepherd’s voice.

“My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish.”

This may not be the best advice, as you start to take final exams. Nevertheless, it is the advice I will give you this morning – forget everything else and concentrate on learning to recognize and follow that voice.

I realized, in preparing for this morning, how confusing it is that “sheep” is the same whether one speaks in the singular or plural. That is confusing, but it helps to make one of the points toward which I am driving. A sheep, an individual sheep, becomes one with the rest of the flock of sheep. It is only when the sheep is in trouble (like being lost) that it is off on its own. The rest of the time, it is one sheep among all the other sheep.

This is a concept which runs afoul of most of what our culture values. We celebrate the rugged individual; we are congratulated for standing out from the rest; we go to the career center in order to learn how to distinguish ourselves from the others. No wonder the Sunday morning message attracts so few. It is more than a desire to sleep in, it may come from the realization that everything we have worked so hard for during the week is being challenged every time we join in the chorus and speak collectively of “Our Father.”

But, it is in the flock, among the other sheep, that one learns to recognize the voice of the shepherd. It is in the flock, among the other sheep, that one develops trust and the ability to follow the shepherd’s instructions. I used to say that it is really hard to do this on your own. Of late, I have started saying that it is practically impossible.

In the past couple of weeks, I have been involved in three conversations with alumni. In each, we talked about how tough it is to be a young adult – a recent college graduate. In far too few congregations will you find a place to fit in. No longer a college student, campus ministry isn’t really for you. While congregations may be open to inclusion, there aren’t programs for young adults – particularly those who are not in a life-long relationship or having babies. Falling away from going to Sunday worship is an easy thing to have happen. It may only be later, when one finds oneself a bit lost, that they realize what falling away has really cost them. On their own, it is tough to feel the care and compassion of the shepherd’s voice.

This illustration is applicable whether you are 20-something or 50-something. A lone sheep is a lost sheep.

In the flock, the sheep who have learned the shepherd’s voice, are not always aware of the impact their ability to recognize and follow has on the newer members. I don’t think the Mama sheep tell their offspring, “Hear that voice? That is the one you want to follow.” The youngens pick up on this, as they observe the mother following. It is in following that one generation passes on to the next the ability to believe and to trust. So, it isn’t what you say or even what you teach which matters most – it is what you do.

What we do – what we need to do – is be very intentional in listening to that voice, and we need to be more forthcoming in allowing others to see how that voice directs our lives.

It is another wonderful coincidence of the lectionary that these lessons fall on our LCM Farewell and Godspeed Sunday. They may often seem cocky and boisterous, but for the most part young adults are still becoming adults. What young adults need, what many young adults are willing to acknowledge, is the continued presence and support of those who have gone before. We have said it before but it bears repeating: the advantage is to a parish-based campus ministry is the opportunity for college students to participate in a community where there are eighty year olds, as well as eighteen year olds. The stages of faith formation are greatly aided by seeing and interacting with those who have had decades to learn to listen to the shepherd’s voice. But, they are inexperienced in establishing adult relationships. And, so it is very awkward and difficult for them. You, the regular members of this congregation, have so much to offer the students who come here seeking something but not knowing how to find it. You do God’s work when you befriend them and allow them to observe, up close and personal, how it is that you have learned to recognize and follow the voice of the Good Shepherd. This is a challenge issued to all of you who are on the University campus. It is a challenge for every one who calls University Lutheran their home congregation.

Students – you understand all too well the pressure to fit in or be accepted. And, you know the pain associated with being left out or ignored. We can’t change the culture, but we can tell you that there is a place where you are most likely to find persons willing to admit how much they need each other. And that place is the Church. It may not be as easy as we hope it has been here, but go. And keep going. And don’t be shy. Stand in the narthex of that congregation in your new home, and announce – “I am here and I am new and I want someone to notice me and love me and support me and help me. Because I already know that life can be tough, very tough.” And, if you want to say that, but can’t bring yourself to say that, I have on my hard-drive the basic structure of a letter which I will be more than happy to send to that new congregation, encouraging the pastor to look out for your arrival. Just send me the name of the church and the letter will be in the mail.

We are like sheep. Together, in the community of faith, we have been lead to the green pastures. Together, our souls have been revived. Let us dwell in the house of the Lord, forever.

Amen.