08 May SUNDAY, MAY 8, 2022
What does it mean to hear? Jesus says, “I told you, but you did not believe.” The sound of his voice traveled in waves. Particles in the atmosphere vibrated as his words transported energy, but no one heard what he said. Hearing, in a literal sense, only happens when sound is recognized.
When sound is not recognized, it doesn’t translate into meaning. A few weeks ago Steve and I played a recording of killdeer for Sophie, our dog. Tilting her head from side to side, she tried her best to grasp the sound. She was plenty interested, but could do little else. Failure to recognize the source limited her capacity. The same was true of Jewish authorities.
People surrounding Jesus were limited in their capacity to recognize the source and respond knowingly. Though he repeatedly told people who he was, they weren’t hearing because what they already knew didn’t compute with new information. Like Sophie, they howled with curiosity, but lacked understanding.
This conversation and what Jesus observes actually takes place about fifty years after Jesus’ death. He had already spoken. Now was the time to make further observations. Jewish authorities chose not to believe. They rejected what they heard because they didn’t belong. Who hasn’t at one time or another pretended not to hear so they’d be under no obligation to follow?
The struggle to communicate messages clearly is very well known between senders and receivers. We’ve all played the children’s game of telephone. One simple sentence whispered ear to ear becomes misheard, 
misunderstood or misinterpreted. As the message is repeated, it becomes either oversimplified or grows to become wildly complex. Jesus was right, as always.
Hearing involves much more than receiving sound to our ears. Hearing and recognizing the sound communicated is complicated. It demands our concentration, one’s earnest attention, extending patience and building trust. All that has to happen before understanding is gained, before the body and mind aim to follow the sound uttered.
Earlier in John chapter 10, Jesus noted differences between people and sheep. Sheep more easily recognize, trust and follow the voice of a shepherd while knowing not to follow a stranger. There’s a difference between a thief or hired hand. Only one who claims the sheep as his own puts their safety at stake and willingly sacrifices to save the sheep from threats. The rest are in it only for gain.
Watching recent political debates among Pennsylvanian candidates reminded me of Jesus’ campaign for Messiah. Using words and testimonials, Jesus tried to demonstrate ability. Claiming place of origin and rightful eligibility, his aim was to convince people of his superior qualifications. Like each male and female political candidate, Jesus harped on three main points, who he is, where he came from, and what he’s done. He, like they, explained his motives, answered charges from opponents, and clearly stated his purpose.
After the debate, Jewish authorities seek to stone him, “not for [his] good works,” they said. But for what Jesus said. Stoning was the “cancel culture” equivalent of Jesus’ time, the way one was permanently thrust out of a social, professional, or religious circle.
Fifty years after Jesus’ death, was about the time that belief in Jesus as the Messiah most upset those in authority. In modern terms, Jesus threatened to take followers away from a group loyal to Judaism. Converts posed a threat to all that had long been held sacred. Those who broke away sparked jealousy and competition.
In reality, Jesus was like a professional athlete traded to another team. Loyalty to only one team is too small when the vision is greater. God doesn’t want Jewish authorities to grieve over losing players, but celebrate victory for the league. Like American Express, God offered for fans to trade in their old jerseys for free. If only they’d embraced the new team logo and colors.
As seen during the nomination hearings of every supreme court justice, people who feel threatened often don’t listen. They ask the same questions repeatedly, professing to have information withheld from them. They ask, “When are you going to fess up and speak plainly?” All along the candidate, in this case Jesus, has not only been saying, but demonstrating who he is.
Not only does his previous record speak, but Jesus constantly drops new audio visual material via the social media platforms of his day: the temple, marketplace, villages, towns, and people’s homes. These clear accounts of his words and deeds are undeniable. His opponent’s real goal was the same as politicians and media today: trip them up, pressure them to reveal a hidden truth, hope your questions will cause the person to incriminate themselves.
Even training geared toward teachers, pastors, managers, and parents contains warnings to watch out for suspicious behavior from those they oversee. As in today’s gospel message, the initial focus aims at what is wrong. But Jesus names the real error. We do not believe. In order to believe a person we think is wrong, we may have to consider ourselves wrong.
Recently, I doubted myself after telling a young man that I didn’t believe him. The muffled laughter of his friend partially convinced me that it was he and not this boy who’d done exactly what I’d asked him not to. Upon realizing my possible mistake, I shifted gears by asking the accused, “Why do you think I thought it was you? Haven’t you given me reason to mistrust you?” Like many authority figures, my aim was to be right. If I couldn’t be right about the first thing, perhaps I’d gain ground on the second.
Jesus helps us do right by explaining who he is. He does things that tie him to the Father through the forgiveness of sins, the healing of sickness, and raising of the dead. But controversy prevails during his lifetime and afterward. “You do not believe because you do not belong. My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish.”
I’ve been reading the historical books of Fisherville Days. The emphasis of much that was recorded back then had to do with tying people to their roots: to land, place and family, to places of employment, membership and group activity.
Identity was captured in pictures that told stories. Where people lived, or once lived had everything to do with who they became. Soldiers and firemen, teachers, merchants, doctors, pastors and farm families were remembered because they served and perhaps more importantly belonged.
That’s the beauty of what Jesus offers. Belonging doesn’t come automatically. It isn’t tied to where you were born or to whom you were born. Jesus says, “You do not believe because you do not belong.” As Christians, we belong because we believe.
No one is born a Christian, they are baptized and confirmed into membership based upon words that are spoken and agreed to, words that are heard and understood, repeated each week and believed. We belong because we believe and would be hard pressed to do otherwise.
Hearing the voice of our shepherd comes not only with open ears, but open hearts, hearts willing to be known by Jesus and to follow him. What was written in the Book of John was written to encourage persons born into Judaism who were fearful of choosing to follow the Way.
Someone else’s testimony is rarely convincing. What works best is hearing and knowing for ourselves. That’s what Jesus offers. The chance to hear and know for ourselves what it’s like to be called and led by him. In John 10:9 Jesus says, “Whoever enters by me will be saved, go in and out and find pasture.” Christians are not called by the shepherd to enter a safe space permanently, only for a time of rest. Sunday morning worship is a time of rest, but other than that church is a place to go in and out. We leave to find pastures elsewhere.
Security lies in backing the person that we know can keep their promise. In truth, only Jesus makes promises he’s certain to keep. Other human beings are still sheep, though they aim to become shepherds, including me.
Security lies in knowing that eternal life is ours and we will never perish. No one can or will be able to snatch us out of the hands of Father, Son and Holy Spirit. The privilege of holding on and protecting those we love can never be expressed in better terms than those spoken by Jesus.When we love, when we give, when we share the very best of ourselves, we become one, belonging to each other and being known.
There’s no argument today among us differing over belief whether Jesus and the Father are one. However, the argument and threat among the church today still falls into one of two categories present in Jesus’ time: dissension, that is, disagreement that leads to discord, or apathy, lack of interest, enthusiasm or concern.
Historically, churches were hubs of activity. Belonging meant participation. Belonging meant listening to the preacher and your elders. Belonging meant going in and out. Today, social media seems to be the place where people find community.
In many regards, Facebook offers a glimpse of who we belong to, where we are from, and what we deem important. Jesus placed ultimate value on what the Father had given him. What was that exactly? The power to lay down his life and pick it up again, to claim people as his own.
All authority in heaven and on earth had been given him. What did he hold most precious and felt was worth sacrificing his life for? Those he had been given. The sheep who sometimes listen and sometimes don’t. The sheep who follow one day and not the next. Those who go in and out and sometimes get lost.
The missing piece of belonging to a church these days is the idea that your participation is not required. This community is full of folks who used to come to church. Somewhere in the back of their minds, they feel like they still belong even though it’s been years since they came in and went out. They may still follow the voice of Jesus, we just don’t get to see them among the flock.
Let us pray. Father, Son and Holy Spirit, it is you who calls and gathers the church, your flock of sheep, your children whom you love. Bring us together again in fullness, entering and leaving this fold, finding pasture by following your voice. Lead us to cheer on teammates and celebrate the victory of the world league, players united under your coaching voice. By the sound of your name we pray, Amen.