Sunday 30 April 2023

"They Know His Voice" (John 10:1-10)

The Meaning of a Voice

“The sheep hear his voice…and the sheep follow him because they know his voice” (10:3-4). They know his voice….

Jesus uses the metaphor of sheep, but you don’t have to be a shepherd to understand what he’s saying. If you have a pet, you probably already know what he’s talking about. Your pet knows your voice. And this knowledge has nothing to do with the words you say. You could be reading Shakespeare to it, or you could be speaking nonsense. You could tell them about the weather or about work or about some deep, dark secret—and it wouldn’t make a difference. What they hear is not the content of your speech, but the sound of your voice. And that sound immediately hits their heart, not their head. It results in a feeling and a response. Your voice means safety, food, petting, playing. Recent studies have confirmed this for cats and dogs alike.[1] When you come home, and your pet hears your voice outside the door, they become happy to see you. Maybe they position themselves smack dab in front of the door, wagging their tail. Maybe they stand demurely at attention a few yards back, waiting to rub up against your leg once you enter. Or maybe they’re lazy…and they just open their eyes from wherever they are, content to see that you’re back.

But what if they hear a stranger’s voice outside the door? Chances are, their reaction is different. My parents have a couple of cats, and I’ve seen their reaction to strangers firsthand. One of the cats instantly retreats to the back bedroom closet, completely avoiding any encounter. The other stands back cautiously to assess the newcomer before deciding on an appropriate proximity. If the newcomers happen to be my four-year-old nephews, who are, like many four-year-olds, rather loud little humans, she will climb to the highest point in the house, where all parts of her (most importantly her tail) are out of reach.

If you’ve never had pets, maybe you’ve had experience with babies. Have you ever tried to quiet someone else’s baby? It is, in my opinion, a poisoned chalice. You will always be shown up by the mother. Because the baby, who does not yet know the contents of our speech, who can’t tell the difference between nouns and verbs, knows voices. The baby knows the voice of its mother, the voice that means safety and snuggling, the voice that means food and warmth.

What the Baby Knows

I wonder if what the baby knows (and what pets know), is actually the most important knowledge there is. A baby, of course, will grow up and go to school, where it will learn the alphabet and big words and math, and it will learn theories and laws and how to solve all sorts of complex mechanical problems. It will gain knowledge upon knowledge. But what is the value of all that knowledge, if it does not know what a baby knows. If it cannot distinguish the one voice that matters most. If it does not know where it is safe and loved and cared for.

I guess what I’m realizing, as I read today’s scripture, is that the knowledge of a voice is pre-cognitive. It’s heart knowledge, not head knowledge. It has nothing to do with intelligence or know-how or ability. It has everything to do with being honest and trusting what our body already knows. When the baby hears its mother’s voice, its body relaxes. The sobs subside into deep breaths. That voice means shelter and nourishment and companionship. That voice means “I shall not want” and “surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life” (Ps 23:1, 6). That voice teaches trust. It is the basis of faith.

Other Voices

The surprise for me in Jesus’ metaphor is that he does not differentiate between the sheep. There are not right sheep and wrong sheep, believers and unbelievers. We are all God’s sheep. We all already belong. Jesus is not urging us to be good sheep, as though that were a condition of God’s love. His point is not about us but about the voices we hear and follow. He distinguishes between the good shepherd and the thief. Can we, like sheep, recognize the voice of the good shepherd, the voice that means provision and guidance and care? Can we recognize this voice viscerally, in the depths of our bodies, just as a sheep (or a pet or a baby) instinctively knows?

Trauma is becoming a popular word these days, as psychologists come to recognize that it’s not only catastrophe that shapes us, but also little events that lodge themselves into our body and our memory in a big way. Some people talk about “lower-case ‘t’ trauma” to refer to these little events, which could be a friend’s disapproving frown or scowl imprinted on your memory, a harsh word from a teacher that echoes in your mind every time you think you’ve failed, or a parent’s refusal to acknowledge your pain. These little things become a very familiar voice. We instinctively know the voice of the thief, a voice that means fear and shame and separation, a voice that can “steal…and destroy” our life (John 10:10).

Some of my peers who have left the church have confessed that the sound of preaching or singing or prayer can make them feel uncomfortable in their own skin. They suddenly feel ashamed. They feel pressured to be someone else, to be someone better, to hide who they really are. They feel fear. Worry. Uncertainty. The voice that they hear does not put them at ease, as a mother’s voice puts her child at ease, but rather leaves them wondering if they truly are loved.

Now that’s not exactly been my experience, and I know many who would say that these folks are just thin-skinned or too self-concerned. But I wonder if maybe they’re just being honest about the voice that they heard. Because I do remember gratuitous descriptions of hell that left me doubting God’s love. I remember prescriptive prayers that filled me with shame. I remember friends giving their lives to Jesus every summer, out of dread that their sin had invalidated their previous conversion. So I wonder what voice I was hearing then. And I wonder now what the substance of faith really is. Is it what I learn and know in my head? Or what I learn in my body and know in my heart?

“Where Do You Expose Your Belly?”

What our pets know, what the baby knows—this, I think, is the most important knowledge there is. More important than knowledge of the Bible, knowledge of creeds or confessions, and knowledge of sacred rituals.

I know some pets, in the presence of their owner, will turn on their backs and expose their belly in a show of profound trust. Where do you expose your belly? It might not be at church on Sunday morning—that’s okay! What’s more important is that you can distinguish the voice of the shepherd.

I know some infants, in the presence of their mother or father, will close their eyes in a show of deep comfort. Where do you close your eyes?

[I’m going to pause for a moment and invite you to reflect on these questions. If something comes to mind, I’d invite you to write your answer anonymously on the notecard in your bulletin, and then to put your card in the offering plate when the offering is collected. I’m just curious to know where people hear the voice of the shepherd. And maybe we can make this space one where we hear that voice even more often.]

I’ve asked these questions because I believe that the risen Christ is in all our lives and that if we’re honest with ourselves, we can distinguish between his voice and other voices. Because other voices may make grand promises about happiness, about power, about eternal salvation, but leave us feeling discontented or ashamed or fearful. The voice of the good shepherd does not leave us feeling this way. It leaves us feeling safe, cared for, guided. It is a voice that genuinely fills us with hope, so that we stand at the front door and wait expectantly for it to open, so that our bodies relax in a posture of trust. Because we know the most important thing: the voice that means life, and life abundant.

Prayer

Dear Christ,
Whose voice means safety and nurture,
Warmth and companionship—
Sometimes we become distracted
By our quests for higher knowledge
And more control

Help us to know what babies know,
What our pets know;
Help us to know your voice,
So that we might eat at the table that you have prepared before us
And so that we might share its goodness and mercy with others. Amen.
 

[1] E.g., Carrie Arnold, “Your Cat Can Recognize Your Voice. Yes, Really,” National Geographic, https://www.nationalgeographic.com/animals/article/your-cat-can-recognize-your-voice, accessed April 23, 2023; A Gabor, N Kaszas, T Farago, et al., “The Acoustic Bases of Human Voice Identity Processing in Dogs,” Animal Cognition 25 (2022): 905-916.

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