Dumber than Sheep

Notes for worship Sunday, May 15, 2011

Tomorrow we'll celebrate Good Shepherd Sunday at Christ the King Lutheran Church.  The shepherd's crook is in the pulpit; the plush sheep and lambs are dancing around the altar.  Lambchop is looking on the production like a tiny, woolly Joan Rivers; Serta #8 is ready for action because he can't sleep, anyway.

One of the guys in our church has raised a few goats and sheep in the past, and says he'd rather have goats because sheep are so dumb.  Not "dumb" in the Isaiah 53, "not-speaking-up-for-oneself" sense of the word, but "dumb" as in "stupid."

But as I think about Jesus' words in John 10 - that the sheep of the Good Shepherd hear His voice and follow Him rather than the thief, because they recognize His voice - I think that most of us (including myself) are dumber than sheep.  After all, sheep recognize the voice of their Good Shepherd and respond to it, but most of the time we're not anywhere near that smart.

We listened and responded to the voice of parents telling us we were bad when we were little, and we still respond to those voices now that we're adults.

We listened and responded to the voices of Sunday School teachers, pastors, nuns, and other "spiritual" spiritual people telling us that "Jesus doesn't love little children who don't behave," and we still hear those voices when we become adults.

We listened and responded to the voices of mean and scary kids when we were little, and we still respond to those voices as adults.

We listen and respond to the voices coming from all corners of our culture, and we believe a lot of what those voices tell us, and we respond to those voices with our attitudes and our habits and our wallets and our checkbooks.

But when Jesus speaks, we don't know how to respond to His voice.  Much of the time, we don't even know He's calling to us.  "I wish I could hear a word from the Lord," we say, "but He just doesn't seem to speak to me."  Like it's Jesus' fault for not speaking, instead of my fault for not listening, or my fault for listening to all the other voices, or my fault for believing everything those voices have said into me over the years.

Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa!  Maybe not because I've done some terrible, legally punishable sin; but more likely because I haven't been listening to the voice of my Good Shepherd telling me of His love, calling me out from the din of other voices, calling me from milling around the dusty sheep pen with all the other stupid sheep to come out with Him into the green pastures and beside the still waters.

The Lord is my Good Shepherd!  And if I miss out on all He has to offer me, maybe it's just because I'm dumber than a Sheep.  So, Lord, give me Your Holy Spirit so that I can learn to listen for You and follow You!