Listening & Responding

It’s been documented that the desert in which Moses lived for a time had tumble-weed like bushes that would spontaneously burst into flame. This was due to a perfect mixture of climate and the precision of heat (usually in the form of lightning) onto the dead leaves of the bush. It was not unlike the starting of forest fires in the hot summer forests of California. For Moses, then, to see a burning bush from time-to-time would not have meant much; but to see a burning bush in which the leaves were not consumed in flame would have caught his eye, peaked his curiosity, and no doubt would have compelled him to investigate the unexpected miracle. Remembering the story, Moses did exactly that. He investigated the miracle and the miracle-worker’s voice was also heard. The voice was none other than the commanding voice of God’s compelled to teach and inspire Moses so that the glory of God would be known within the land again. Fast-forward to John’s Gospel where the voice of God is personified in Jesus Christ, and this voice (or Word of God) seems to be doing what God has always done – showing up in unexpected ways, and teaching us the way of discipleship.

John’s Gospel has Jesus performing seven (7) miracles followed by seven (7) “I am” statements. The seven miracles function much like the bush that burned but was not consumed. The miracles are there to get our attention, to get us curious, and to draw nearer to God. The seven “I am” statements found within John are no longer for the seeker, but for the convert – the one who has heard the voice of God and responds – but how is the response made manifest? I would answer it is made manifest by listening and responding to the voice of God in all aspect of one’s life.

In the Acts of the Apostles, we get a story of evangelization and conversion. St. Philip (compelled by the Word of God) is commanded to go on “a wilderness road.” The wilderness may be a metaphor for chaos and at the same time trusting in God to accompany Philip into a place he could not attempt to walk through alone. Put differently, the life of a disciple is being called into those places that are uncomfortable; yet having the faith and hope that God will see you through. The story continues with St. Philip opening up the scriptures to the Ethiopian eunuch much like the Resurrected Jesus opened up the scriptures to the two strangers walking on the road to Emmaus. If Christ is the Word of God, then St. Philip reveals Christ’s presence within the scriptures of old. The eunuch is converted by the Word of God found within those scriptures and responds by getting baptized. He then goes on rejoicing while St. Philip continues making order out of chaos by “proclaiming the good news to all the towns.” This story not only teaches us about evangelization and conversion, it also reminds us that Christ can still be heard in Holy Scripture.

Not only can Christ be heard in Holy Scripture, Christ can be known to us in worship. Our Psalm for today reminds us of this when it states, “My praise is of him in the great assembly; I will perform my vows in the presence of those who worship him.” Worship is an integral part of the life of a disciple. After the eunuch was baptized the scriptures tell us that he “went on his way rejoicing.” Even though the story of the eunuch ends there, it would have been my hope for him to find a worshipping community that can help him perform the vows he has made to God through the ministry of St. Philip. The life of a disciple isn’t just about a one-time conversion experience, but the ongoing conversions within the life of God found with fellow disciples of God. Like God, known more fully to us through the relationship of the Father to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, we become more fully known not in isolation, but in our relationships to Christ and one another.

The life of a disciple of Jesus not only listens and responds to the voice of God in scripture and worship, but also in the ways in which we love. 1 John 4, “Beloved, let us love one another for God is love…God sent his son into the world so that we might live through him.” Did you catch it? If God is love, then we live through him. If God is love, then we live through love. Not just our own love, but a higher love, a higher ground, a place where the bush burns, but is not consumed. A disciple of Christ is one who lives into this truth, and when he fails to do so, repents and returns to the Lord. God is constantly converting us back to his love time and time and time again which leads to the great “I am” statement found in today’s Gospel.

Jesus said, “I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing.” Apart from love, dear friends, you/we can do nothing; thus, the life of a disciple is one who will let God pluck and prune us – Plucking those branches that have no life in them and pruning those branches that need further training in love. The one who has heard the voice of God and responds makes God’s love manifest by listening and responding to the voice of God in all aspect of one’s life. I believe God wants every part of our being because God wants to purify it in love so that we may be more loving in all the ways in which we live, and move, and have our being.

This week, I invite you to pray today’s Collect daily as a way of remembering that God desires his presence in all aspects of our lives. Looking back to the prayer, we are asking God to be fully known to us as we follow in his footsteps. Also living into the ethos of this prayer leads us into life eternal. Put differently, the amazing relationship we have with God guides us into the deeper waters of love. Let us close this time by praying it again:

Almighty God, whom truly to know is everlasting life: Grant us so perfectly to know your Son Jesus Christ to be the way, the truth, and the life, that we may steadfastly follow his steps in the way that leads to eternal life; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

The Good Shepherd

Poetic Responses to The Good Shepherd imagery found in John 10:11-18.

The Hired Hand
By Brandon Duke

I’m afraid I’m the hired hand. I don’t comprehend the lambs fully.
They are fully known by God alone.
What’s it like to be fully known?
For a moment I imagine
the Good Shepherd circling his gaze towards me knowing I’ve been
hired out by one (or another) yet not defined by it.
Instead, and perhaps for the first time in my life
I am regarded by Being itself.
I straighten my posture, dust off my shirt, becoming as giddy as a little girl,
“He sees me. He really sees me.”
Not only does he take notice, he knows my name
and for a moment I imagine him
loving me more than sheep – precious though they are.

In his gaze I am not hired. I am healed.
On his watch I am not lonely. I am fulfilled.
In time I will come to know him in his fullness.

The Enigma
By Anne Stevenson

Falling to sleep last night in a deep crevasse
between one rough dream and another, I seemed,
still awake, to be stranded on a stony path,
and there the familiar enigma presented itself
in the shape of a little trembling lamb.
It was lying like a pearl in the trough between
one Welsh slab and another, and it was crying.

I looked around, as anyone would, for its mother.
Nothing was there. What did I know about lambs?
Should I pick it up? Carry it . . . where?
What would I do if it were dying? The hand
of my conscience fought with the claw of my fear.
It wasn’t so easy to imitate the Good Shepherd
in that faded, framed Sunday School picture
filtering now through the dream’s daguerreotype.

With the wind fallen and the moon swollen to the full,
small, white doubles of the creature at my feet
flared like candles in the creases of the night
until it looked to be alive with newborn lambs.
Where could they all have come from?
A second look, and the bleating lambs were birds—
kittiwakes nesting, clustered on a cliff face,
fixing on me their dark accusing eyes.

There was a kind of imperative not to touch them,
yet to be of them, whatever they were—
now lambs, now birds, now floating points of light—
fireflies signaling how many lost New England summers?
One form, now another; one configuration, now another.
Like fossils locked deep in the folds of my brain,
outliving a time by telling its story. Like stars.

Psalm 23 King James Version (KJV)
Traditionally attributed to King David

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

Collect of the Day

O God, whose Son Jesus is the good shepherd of your people: Grant that when we hear his voice we may know him who calls us each by name, and follow where he leads; who, with you and the Holy Spirit, lives and reigns, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Stop. Reflect. Listen.

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My family and I recently made a retreat to San Antonio, TX visiting Mission Concepción and Mission San José. Henry (aged 7) is usually a bit wiggly in church (although it is my understanding that he is fully participating in the Eucharist albeit in his own 7-year old way). When we entered into the nave of the parish, Henry was arrested by its beauty and immediately took a seat in the nearest pew and stared up at the sanctuary/chancel wall full of art, symbol, and mystery. As a family, we prayed the Collect of the Day then sat in silence letting our little one “lead us” as he was being led by God’s Spirit. It was a holy moment. As we enter into the deep mystery of Easter, find those holy moments to stop, reflect, and listen.