Spring has come at last to Boston and it is a pleasure to watch its arrival in our parks and gardens. I especially enjoy the beautiful landscapes of Frederick Law Olmsted, and am grateful that Boston shared him with the rest of the country. Over one hundred years after his death, Olmsted’s parks continue to be enjoyed by millions of people every year, here and in many other cities in North America.
If you walk through Olmsted’s Central Park in Manhattan, you will come to a wide open area that is known as the Sheep’s Meadow. A long time ago it really was the place in the city where flocks of sheep grazed, and today a marker preserves the memory of its rural past. Not long ago I walked through the Sheep’s Meadow, and everywhere I looked people appeared to be hearing voices. Some listened to invisible voices on cell phones. Others jogged by with IPOD buds in their ears. There is no telling what they heard. Parents called to children in a multitude of different languages. Lovers whispered private endearments.
The air waves were full of voices, but no one knew what anyone else was hearing. I was struck by this irony and I thought, so this is the modern Sheep Meadow: full of sound, but devoid of shared understanding. It is a dramatic contrast to the earlier days when the inhabitants of the Sheep Meadow all heard the same voice. It was the one, constant voice of the shepherd that guided the sheep and kept them safe from injury or predators.
The image of the shepherd is a familiar one in our scriptures. It is used to describe the faithful guidance and protection of God. Psalm 23 is among the most beloved and familiar writings of the Bible. It proclaims that the Lord is my shepherd, and I have everything that I need. In the Gospels, Jesus frequently describes himself as the Good Shepherd who is devoted to his flock and looks out for his sheep. Even the lost sheep is tracked down and called back to the flock for safety. Jesus says, “My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me.”
The Good Shepherd theme may seem irrelevant in our urban setting. When was the last time that you saw a shepherd tending sheep in Copley Square? But you will be interested to know that when the shepherd imagery originally appeared in the Bible, it was often in urban settings and times of great social and political change. The shepherd was especially needed in such times of conflicting voices.
The 23rd Psalm is one of 150 poems that make up our 3,000 year old Psalter. The psalms were recorded in the king’s court, as Israel was becoming an urban society. Jerusalem was growing, and its residents had to cope with new problems, such as poverty, inadequate housing, and economic injustice.
When people were falling through the cracks in the city, they could still look out and see shepherds at work on the steep hillsides. Everyday shepherds wound their way on the worn paths with their flocks, searching for grazing and keeping the sheep out of trouble. It was natural that the faithful shepherd should become a metaphor for God. The Divine Shepherd watches over people and looks after their needs, even in life’s hardest struggles. Many centuries later, Jesus drew upon the same image and we have the Good Shepherd in the Gospel of John, again in an urban setting.
So the shepherd has been an enduring image in the city, where life is full of distractions and challenges, where the boundaries of community are in constant flux, and where many competing voices fill the air waves. Today technology permits us to hear unlimited voices, more voices than we can stand. They clamor for our attention and devotion.
There are the voices in the political arena which make promises and ask for our votes. There are competing voices that propose social and economic policies. They all claim to have the best answers but I notice that they seldom listen to the voices of the poor. We have recently heard the voice of a well known radio announcer whose racist and sexist comments on the air cost him his job. But the support that that Don Imus also received suggests that his voice echoes many others in a society that still bears the burden of racism and other forms of prejudice.
In this culture of American individualism, we hear a lot about ourselves. The first person singular is voiced a lot more often than the first person plural. The words “I want” and “mine” pop up more often than “we need” and “ours.” It is a trap for all of us. We may grow up and leave the playground behind, but we don’t easily loose the impulse to say “me first.” Sometimes we struggle there and also with other kinds of inner voices. There are those days when our doubts and our fears and our disappointments seem to shout within us.
Voices, voices: we hear them everywhere. What we need is one true voice that we can all understand. What we need is God’s voice to guide us and keep us on the path. We need the Good Shepherd.
There are many ways to hear the God’s voice, alone and with others. And one of the best ways to listen for God is through holy conversation. Conversation literally means “turn about with.” Other definitions include “exchange” or “keep company with.”
Our Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori visited Massachusetts this week and spoke about opportunities for finding God through conversation. She reminded us that the women of the Rutgers basketball team responded to Don Imus by inviting him into conversation. In conversation there is the possibility of new insight and healing and change. The Presiding Bishop also reminded us that most of Jesus’ ministry occurred through conversation. Although he did make pronouncements and judgments, mostly we see Jesus pursuing conversation as long as anyone would hang around to talk.
Every year in the life of the Church we read the Good Shepherd texts on the fourth Sunday of Easter. Today on this Good Shepherd Sunday, I am proposing that we enter into a season of conversation here at Trinity Church. We will listen for God’s voice as we listen to one another.
We are embarking upon a strategic planning process that will chart the mission and ministry of Trinity Church for the next several years, and it is important that many conversations take place and that we all share in this work. We must hear one another and we must listen for the voice of God in our conversations. You will be learning more about the planning process in the months ahead and you will be given an opportunity to lend your voice. I hope that you will participate and that you will both speak and listen.
As we enter this season of holy conversation, we will be asking many questions as we listen for God’s voice. For example: How is God calling us to grow in faith and discipleship? How do we experience God’s hospitality, and how do we share it with one another in the Church? How do we extend that hospitality to the city and to those beyond our walls? How will we provide hospitality for generations that follow us at Trinity Church? How are we growing in stewardship and generosity?
We will listen for God’s voice through one another in conversation. And at the end of every conversation, our Presiding Bishop challenges us to ask ourselves, “How does our speech echo divine speech?” Someone may actually be drawn to God through our words, so we must each speak thoughtfully and prayerfully. The one true voice of God could be heard through your voice.
And of course, holy conversation takes place beyond the Church. It happens whenever the speaker and the listener experience the echo of divine speech. Holy conversation takes place around the dinner table, in the bedroom, in the office and in the shared delight of a warm spring day. It takes place at the sick bed, in the jail cell, and in the hundreds of interactions that fill our days. Holy conversation happens when we all listen for the one true voice in the chaos of all the other sounds. We strain to hear that constant voice, the voice that never fails us. The Lord is indeed our shepherd, and we have everything we need.
AMEN
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