Sermon for The Fourth Sunday after Easter - The Rev. Jeffrey W. Mello - May 8th, 2022

To view a video of the Rev. Jeffrey W. Mello’s sermon, click HERE.

Acts 9:36-43; Psalm 23; Revelation 7:9-17; John 10:22-30

When I was a Clinical Social Worker, a client once said to me, “You know, Jeff, I spend a lot of time up in my head. And that’s not always a good neighborhood for me to hang out in.”

I’ve never forgotten that wisdom, and I’ve heard it from many sources since.

Of course, when the client said it, it was true for me as well, as it is now, as it is for most of us. We spend a lot of time up in our heads, and that’s not always a good neighborhood for us to hang out in.

Sticking with the metaphor of our minds as a neighborhood, I wonder why it isn’t always a good place for us to spend time. And I think of who the neighbors are in the community of our minds. I think of the voices that are opening windows and yelling at us as we pass by.

There is the house that fear lives in. They are always yelling to watch out, to be careful, not to trust others.

And there, on the other side of the street is the house that shame built. The voices from that yard yell to us to avoid embarrassment at all costs. To assume always that we have done something wrong.

So many voices from so many places; ego, pride, anger, despair, cynicism, all yelling their well rehearsed tropes. Usually a couple at a time, if not all at once.

Not a great neighborhood, not at all. So to drown out those voices, we turn the volume up in other places. I’m sure I’m not the only one who has gone to turn the radio on in the car to discover the radio was already on.

In John’s Gospel, Jesus tells a group of followers that they are not his. Kinda harsh, I know. But I understand his exasperation. After all the signs, all the miracles, all the meals and all the healings, they have the audacity to ask him how much longer he will keep them in suspense. When, they wonder, will he tell them if he is the Messiah. Jesus has got to be thinking, “seriously? What else do you need from me?”

The difference between these followers who do not yet get who he is and what following him has to offer, and his other followers that do, has nothing to do with anything Jesus has or hasn’t done. It has everything to do with their ability to hear the voice of God, to listen to it, to trust it, to follow it, and then to live it.

Jesus has done everything he could do to show them. He has taught them everything he had to teach. At some point, it is up to the follower to listen; to hear; to see, and then to trust; to follow; and to know.

At some point, his followers had to decide what voice they were going to listen to; which voice they would follow, and what life they would live.

The voice of God is an awesome thing. It speaks creation into being, it is the billowing voice that searches us out, and it is the still small voice that whispers “peace be with you.”

Hearing the voice of God, the voice of our Good Shepherd, amidst the noise of our lives and the chaos of the neighborhoods of our minds isn’t always easy. It requires intent. It takes practice. The voice of God isn’t a voice so loud it drowns out all others. It is a voice so quiet it comes not over the chaos but through it.

As if scanning the stations of a car radio, the voice of God breaks through the noise and the static to speak to us a word of peace. When we hear it, we know it. Our shoulders relax. Our minds calm. Our heart rests. We are home -- wherever we might be.

Can you hear the still small voice of God that calls to you, right now, with whatever cacophony of noises are filling your ears these days, can you hear God speaking to you through all of that?

Can you hear the voice of the good shepherd calling you; calling you to still waters, and verdant pastures; assuring you as you walk through the valleys of death in your live that you need not fear; inviting you to a banquet set just for you, right there in the middle of that neighborhood of your soul, asking you to sit, rest and feast right there?

Can you hear the voice of God through all the noise?

Can we, here at Saint Paul’s?

What a strange time we are in as a community. So much going on. So much change; some known and some unknown.

A new organ to be funded and installed. A new Director of Children and Youth to be hired. Still navigating uncertainties of what it means to gather and to do so safely. Not to mention the question of whether or not God is calling me to a new ministry in a new place and what that will mean for all of us.

There is a lot to navigate. Even though all of it has to do with us growing more and more into who it is God is calling us to be; it is a lot. And the voices and the noises are plentiful. Worry, anxiety, fear, anger; they are making their opinions known.

But so is God, if we can tune our ears to hear. Through the noise is the voice of God speaking words of hope, of trust, words of new life, even resurrection. If we will listen. If we will hear. If we will trust. If we will follow.

Two weeks from today, we will know the answer as to whether or not I will be leaving. This summer the new organ will be installed, and it will be spectacular. We will find and hire the right person we need to minister with our Children, Youth, Young Adults and Families.

But there will be something else that yells for our attention. There will always be something that tries desperately to drown out the sound of the voice of God; the voice of Peace.

So let’s not let that happen. Let us listen, together, for the voice of God in the midst of all of it. Let us listen for the voice of peace in the chaos, the voice of hope in the worry, the voice of Love in the fear.

Let us gather, right in the middle of it all, and feast at this banquet God has prepared for us.

God, the world is so loud, our lives are so loud, our minds are so loud. Help us to listen for your voice in the midst of it all. Help us to listen that we might hear; to hear that we might see; to see that we might trust; and to trust that we might follow, knowing that you will always lead us where the pastures are green and the waters, they are still.

Amen.

© 2022 The Reverend Jeffrey W. Mello