I realize I repeat myself on this particular notion perhaps a bit too often, but it lies at the very heart of my spirituality and I just can’t help it: God knows us by name. If not for this belief that we are known and loved — personally as well as communally as church — I’m not sure I could muster the energy to get out of bed and go to church, or read scripture or pray or care about the world around me. I realize plenty of non-believers care about the world and those around them, of course. But I can only speak for myself. Somewhere in the back of my mind there’s this voice that says, “You are mine,” and that’s what gets me out of bed, physically and metaphorically. It’s what gets me through both ordinary and extraordinarily rough days.
In John’s gospel (10:1-21) we hear the story of Jesus as the Good Shepherd, where Jesus is both the gate that keeps the enemy at bay and the shepherd who knows each and every one of his sheep and cares deeply if even one of them goes missing. Perhaps more crucially for us, we recognize the voice of the shepherd and will follow it wherever it goes. He says, “come here, sheep,” and we follow. Blindly follow? Not really. We know very little — simple, silly sheep that we are — but we do know what’s good for us most of the time. We follow the voice that says, “You are mine,” because it provides all we need. Our vision of God may — and probably should — change over time, but that voice that called us remains the same. And faith, Paul tells us in Romans 10:17, comes through hearing.
Ask yourself in silence: When did you first hear a call to believe, to hear Christ’s voice in your life? Are their other voices that drown out the gentle call of the shepherd?
