St. Luke’s in the Meadow Episcopal Church
May 11, 2025, Easter 4C, 2025
Acts 9:36-43, Psalm 23, Revelation 7:9-17, John10:22-30
Homily preached by The Rev. Karen A. Calafat
On this Mother’s Day, I remember a voice from my childhood that called me home – to safety and to love. During my elementary years, we live where there were woods across the street from our house. My sister and I, along with a few other kids in the neighborhood, built bike trails and ramps for jumping. We used any scraps of wood and boards we could find to build tree houses (It’s a wonder we didn’t fall to our deaths or at least break an arm or leg!) We left home with a lunch bag in tow and the same departure instructions – “be home before dark.” And if dark was getting too near and we weren’t home, there would be a voice that rang out in the air – that mom voice that yelled my name, drawing out the two syllables over what seemed like forever. I knew that voice … and I knew hearing that voice meant it was time to return to the safety of home.
I imagine you have similar stories, voices you recognize, voices that belong to you and your history. Voices that called out to keep you safe and guide your path.
I wonder if those who speak love, and hope, and comfort into our lives are our connection to the voice of the Good Shepherd. Perhaps the voice of a teacher who encouraged your educational pursuits; or a mentor who equipped you for your career moves; or even possibly a preacher who inspired you to action or affirmed your worth.
The voice that roots our faith, is the voice of the Good Shepherd, “My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish” (John 10:28).The sheep learn their shepherd’s voice – the voice that says, “I am with you on the journey, and come what may, you are never alone. The voice that says, “No one will snatch you from my love and care.” The voice of the Good Shepherd says, “Should you roam astray, I will seek you, and there will always be a place for you in the fold.”
(Inspired by SALT+ Commentary:)
To help make this clear, Jesus borrows a metaphor from the ancient prophets of a shepherd and a flock of sheep. The sheep don’t analyze evidence or arguments or definitions; rather, they sense the shepherd’s love and care. In the case of a good shepherd, the sheep become, in a way, “one” with the shepherd, listening and acting in concert with him (or her) — just as we become “one” with those we most love and trust.
We observe Good Shepherd Sunday the 4th Sunday of Easter every year. We may think of the shepherd as gentle, kind, and attentive, but the Good Shepherd is also protective and even ferocious when it comes to guarding the sheep – saying no one will ever snatch the sheep away from God. The setting of Jesus’ teaching today adds to the importance of the message. It’s the “festival of Dedication” (today known as Hanukkah), commemorating the Jewish cleansing and restoration of the Temple in 164 BCE, after its desecration by Antiochus Epiphanes IV. Jesus is walking on the Temple grounds along a large porch or covered walkway known as “the portico of Solomon” (John 10:23). It’s a prestigious location, especially during the festival, lending this scene a sense of importance.
There are many voices that tell us how to grow closer to God:
- by having a prescribed religious experience,
- by believing a certain doctrine,
- by reaching a higher level of knowledge, or a higher level of morality.
By contrast, the Good Shepherd tells us that everything depends on belonging to him. Never does our status before God depend on how we feel, on having the right experience, on being free of doubt, or on what we accomplish. It depends on one thing only: that we are known by the shepherd and that we belong in the flock: “My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me.”
The voice of the Good Shepherd is a voice that liberates rather than oppressing. It does not say, “Do this, and then maybe you will be good enough to be one of my sheep.” It says, “You belong to me already. No one can snatch you out of my love.” Secure in this belonging, we are free to live the abundant life that Jesus speaks of in chapter 10 of John’s gospel: “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly” (John 10:10).
Amidst all the other voices that evoke fear, make demands, or give advice, the voice of the Good Shepherd is a voice of promise—a voice that calls us by name and claims us as God’s own forever.
What does the voice of the Good Shepherd sound like? Have you heard it? I think it sounds like the one who speaks a word or guidance or encouragement into our lives. I think it sounds like the voice of a friend who speaks a word of hope and love during the good times and bad. I think it sounds like the voice of a stranger who offers a random word of kindness. What do you think the voice of the Good Shepherd sounds like?
To whom has God invited you to be the voice of the Good Shepherd? It brings to mind Teresa of Avila’s writing, Christ Has No Body?
Christ has no body but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
Compassion on this world,
Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good,
Yours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world.
What if we add, “Yours is the voice with which Christ invites others to belong? Yours is the voice with which Christ speaks affirmation and assurance of God’s love? Yours is the voice that speaks the hope, joy, and love of the Good Shepherd into the world, into the lives of those you encounter.
Let us be about listening for the voice of our Good Shepherd and then emulating it in a world that desperately needs the healing, hopeful sound of that voice.