Acts 2:42-47
[The baptized] devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers. Awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles. All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.
Psalm 23
The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures;
he leads me beside still waters;
he restores my soul.
He leads me in right paths
for his name's sake.
Even though I walk through the darkest valley,
I fear no evil;
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff —
they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD
my whole life long.
John 10:1-10
[Jesus said:] 1“Very truly, I tell you, anyone who does not enter the sheepfold by the gate but climbs in by another way is a thief and a bandit. The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep hear his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice. They will not follow a stranger, but they will run from him because they do not know the voice of strangers.” Jesus used this figure of speech with them, but they did not understand what he was saying to them.
So again Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep. All who came before me are thieves and bandits; but the sheep did not listen to them. I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”
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This past week, the choir director from my childhood church began posting to YouTube videos of old church television broadcasts, specifically the choir anthems. I’ve been watching these videos fairly obsessively, seeing faces from my childhood, people who formed my faith. Nostalgia can be pretty fun sometimes. The two things I enjoy most about these videos are 1) Watching my dad direct these huge choirs, feeling a new sense of awe and respect for his conducting skills; and 2) trying to figure out which year the videos were taped based on the relative size of my mom’s hair.
[“Hi, mom!” by the way. I know that you’re probably watching.]
Speaking of my mom, there’s one other thing that I’ve noticed in watching these videos.
No matter how big the choir, no matter how loud the organ, no matter whether she is in the camera shot or not, as I watch and listen, I can always pick out my mom’s voice.
Not because she’s the loudest or because she can’t blend.
But because I know her voice.
After a lifetime of listening to her sing and talk, my ears are so attuned to her voice, that I can distinguish it in a sea of singers just as easily as I can pick it out in an intimate trio.
[Incidentally, as I watch these videos, I can also vividly hear in my ears the “mom cough” that came form the choir loft when my sisters and I were getting squirmy in the front pew during the sermon. That, too, is a sound I could pick out from a mile away.]
Do you have voices in you life that you know this intimately? That you can hear this distinctly? Are these voices that stand as a comfort to you? Are these voices that you trust? Are these voices that have guided you along the way?
Using the metaphor of sheep and gatekeepers and gates today, Jesus makes the claim that his his is a voice that we should grow to recognize, and his is a voice that we can and should trust, over and against other voices of those who would seek to lead us into danger and destruction.
I hear lots of voices these days, and not just the ones inside my head.
Competing voices about how to face this pandemic. Competing voices about how to do ministry in these strange times. Competing voices about which politicians to trust, which television shows to binge-watch on Netflix, and which hobbies and habits to pick up - or drop! - during this extended time at home.
Even in less-strange times, there exist a cacophony of voices competing for our attention, giving us advice, welcome or not, as to how we should live in this world, how we should consider our place in society, in the economy, in relationship to others and to creation.
The question we navigate every day, and perhaps especially in these days, is simply this: Which voices will we listen to? And why?
Jesus says, “beware of the thief who comes only to steal and kill and destroy.” And Jesus then says, “listen to me, the voice of life and life abundant.”
For those of us who who claim faith in Jesus, who follow him as disciples, Jesus claims himself as the voice above all voices, the voice that we can distinguish from others because of its unwavering commitment to abundant life.
We need to be clear, however, about what Jesus means by “abundant life.”
Because that word “abundant” can trip us up. Jesus isn’t talking here about an abundance of wealth, or an abundance of things, or even an abundance of friends or talents or accolades.
Abundant life is Jesus’s way of talking about an ideal deeply engrained in his Jewish roots, and that is the idea of the flourishing of all things.
Read through the accounts of the creation, the covenant of the law, the songs of God’s salvation and liberation, the poetry of the Psalms, the passion of the prophets, and in all of it you will see God’s deep concern for giving all people and all creation the space to flourish, where everything and everyone is given their full opportunity to exist as God created them to be.
The voice of the thief leads us into places and practices where some flourish at the expense of others, where creation is exploited for gain, where abundant life is no longer a God-given gift for all, but a privilege for few. The voice of the thief leads us out of balance, toward selfishness and self-interest, and away from the common good. The voice of the thief looks at the sin and brokenness of the world, and tells us with a shrug of the shoulder that “this is just the way things are.”
But Jesus always speaks back at us with the voice of abundant life. He tells us that, despite all odds, hope, healing, a world at peace, a world at rest: these things are possible. Not just possible. But promised to us. Accessible to us. Here among us.
This might be the most important thing about Jesus’s resurrection: it is a stunning vision of life bursting forth against all odds. Life so abundant that it even overflows death. Jesus’s resurrection assures us that we can recognize and trust his voice as the voice that leads to abundant life, and the voice that invites us to follow in creating abundant life around us.
An ethic of abundant life is how we discern the voice of Jesus among all the voices in this world. It is how we make wise and faithful decisions in this world.
It is simple. But it is not easy.
Because abundant life is not the sole possession of any one political party or any one system of government or any one economic model or one nation of the world.
In our complicated world, living, seeking, and discerning an ethic of abundant life is an exercise, always, in balance. In thoughtful engagement with the world. It is a life full of mid-course corrections, and the steadfast courage to advocate, always, for the most vulnerable, those who are the farthest away from abundant life.
Listening to Jesus, picking out the voices and choices that lead to abundant life, is a life of seeking and not a life of arrival. It is a life of asking questions, of seeking creative solutions, of engaging policy when engaging policy is effective, and being generous with our talents and gifts when that is most effective, and being faithful in prayer, witness, and service through all of it.
There are big questions ahead of us, questions without clear answers or direct mandates from heaven. Questions that will require a creative commitment to Christ’s voice of abundant life in order to be answered faithfully.
During this time of global shut-down, we have watched our planet, even in small part, renew its health. On the far side of this, how do we take what we have seen and make wiser decisions about how we live in this world, about what practices we choose to re-engage, and which practices we continue without, whether that be driving or air travel or water use or advocacy for different emissions and air pollution regulations? What does abundant life mean for our creation?
During this time of global shut-down, our economy has ground to a halt, with repercussions both now and for a long while to come. In the midst of this time, how are we supporting essential businesses and the livelihood of neighbors? How are we being generous toward those who cannot afford not to be working, but whose jobs have been eliminated or suspended nonetheless? On the far side of this, how will we change our habits of consumption, and advocate for better employment practices and safeguards, and continue in the path of sharing our resources freely? What does abundant life mean for our society?
During this time of global shut-down, we have navigated new channels of communication and finding connection with one another, and we have also grieved the loss of connection with one another, because there is no perfect virtual substitute for in-person gatherings and the blessing of physical proximity. In this time, we have asked new questions about family life and responsibility, and we have needed to increase our concern for those living alone, or those living in abusive or difficult homes, or those who are in hospitals and care centers. On the far side of this, how will we show love to our neighbors, and greater compassion and sensitivity to one another? How will we appreciate our loved ones differently and stay tender-hearted in new ways? What does abundant life mean for our relationships?
During this time of global shut-down, how are we living into new ways of “being church” dispersed? How might we be finding new resonance with those apostles in Acts, who worshiped in their homes, who sold their possessions and gave the proceeds to those who were in need, who stayed deeply connected to the goodness of God, who even in strange times kept appreciation and praise on their lips, giving thanks for God’s provision; glad and generous and filled with good will? How will we do church and be church differently on the far side of this; how will we experience and know God in new and different ways? What does abundant life mean for our faith?
There are so many ways to answer all of these questions. So many creative and different paths to similar ends.
I really wish that life functioned like a children’s sermon, where the answer to every question is “Jesus.”
But the truth is that Jesus doesn’t give the answer to all of life’s complicated questions. What Jesus gives us is the ability to ask better questions, and he gives us a model for what a life lived for the sake of the world looks like, and he gives us an ethic and a vocation: to live every part of our lives showing love for God, neighbor, and creation, and to make decisions and discernments accordingly.
Because under it all is this unfailing promise of abundant life, a river flowing like crystal, a tree of life bursting with leaves for the healing of the nations.
And the closer we cling to this promise, the more easily we can discern, in all things, the voice of Jesus, our good shepherd, the one whose voice of comfort leads us through the darkest valley, the one whose voice of care leads us to green pastures and still waters, the one whose voice of salvation leads us to a banquet with cup overflowing, the one whose voice of promise sets before us a world of goodness and mercy, of abundant life beyond life, where we and all creation may dwell and flourish, now and forever. Amen.