Tag: names

The Sound of Jesus: hearing his voice, following his call

David HerbertLeave a comment

Using scripture appointed for the 4th Sunday of Easter (YrC), Psalm 23 and John 10.22-30, here’s a reflection on what it means to hear the voice of Jesus in a noisy world.

I love preaching that brings Scripture to life—and that brings Scripture back to life, and I hope you do too. That’s a reminder that every time we open scripture together we are bringing it back to life. What matters today is what we call people, what we call ourselves and what we call God. Today is Vocations Sunday – a day to explore our calling, our calling of one another and God’s calling of us.

That’s the point Jesus makes when he is confronted by Jews at the Festival of Dedication at Jerusalem with the question showing their lack of understanding of him. “How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly.” I’m discovering that John is always telling us the time. In our gospel readings through this Easter season, all from John’s gospel, he has always told us the time. It’s morning, it’s evening, it’s early in the morning. Today, we hear that it is “winter”. Perhaps John wanted to introduce a shiver in his readers to indicate the coldness of these Jews towards Jesus and the frostiness of their relationship towards him.

Jesus replied to them to say “I did tell you, but you do not believe”. He draws the distinction between those who do believe and those who don’t. Those who do believe have listened to his voice and followed him. It’s his voice that makes us think vocationally. We are those who believe. We’ve heard his voice.

Vocation is not just about what we do – it’s about whose voice we listen to, and whose voice we speak with.

We live in noisy days. Everyone has something to say. Social media, politics, advertising, even the voices in our own heads – so many trying to define who we are, what we’re worth, and what matters. Those who follow Jesus make out his voice in all the hullabaloo. As Jesus said, My sheep hear my voice. They listen to my voice and follow me. Even surrounded by the sound of enemies, or even traumatised by suffering, or even as we walk through the darkest valleys overshadowed by death, there is the one call we listen out for. It’s the call that leads us to metaphorical green pasture and the still waters that refresh the soul.

And here’s the gift and challenge of vocation: those who follow Jesus begin to speak like him. They begin to sound like him. It’s not because they have perfect words, nor because they are fluent in the language of the kingdom, but because they speak in love. They echo his truth that so loves the world. They call people “beloved”. They become the kind of people whose words give life.

This is Jesus calling. His calling isn’t just for those who we say “have had a calling”. His calling is for the sake of the world. His calling is for the whole church – to hear, and to follow. On this Vocations Sunday, we’re not just praying for more priests or deacons (though some who hear his call might follow that course). We’re also praying for a church that listens to the voice of Jesus and follows his call, for a church that sounds like Jesus. We are praying for a Pope who sounds like Jesus, for an Archbishop who sounds like Jesus, and for one another, that we dare to follow the voice of Jesus even when it sounds strange in our world of noise.

So, let me ask you. Can you hear his voice?

Do you hear his voice,
the still small voice of calm,
the voice on the lake, in the storm?
Do you hear his voice
in the noise of your lives?
Do you hear his voice
above the voices of harm?
Do you hear his voice
singling you out
for the new rule of the kingdom?

What does he call you?
Are you Forgiven?
Are you his Friend,
freed, no longer slave?
Are you his Beloved?

And what of others?
Can you hear him calling them?
Can you hear him
calling the last first,
the first last?

Can you hear him
calling the stranger
closer as neighbour,
extending the family
by calling brother, sister,
even mother of those
quite unrelated?

His call goes far and wide,
as far as those who are called
“far from the kingdom of God”,
even to those who’ve grown rich
at the expense of others,
the proud and arrogant,
the self-righteous,
the self-satisfied, the guilty.

He calls the warnings of woe,
speaks of mercy to the guilty.
He calls the wayward home,
and calls the proud down.

Love’s call is strong, not mealy-mouthed,
exactly what is needed by those
who put themselves first,
those who are comfortable now.

This is the call of the shepherd
who loves his sheep
and raises his voice
for them to follow.

But the call of the shepherd
also raises the alarm
to disrupt the plans of wolves.

That is not a gentle voice we hear
nor does the shepherd
reassure us to stay where we are.
His is the leading voice,
leading us to fresh pastures,
calling us back, calling us out,
calling us up to the narrow way
that leads to life.

Can you see
how his voice might carry
in every breath of the church,
on the wind and wings
of the Spirit?

Do you know
the messages of your own lives
in your words and deeds?

And can you imagine
all your words being of
the one word that made you
and called you by name
Forgiven and Beloved?

Can you imagine your voice
reverberating his love and
amplifying his call?

Can you imagine
that being your only call?

There are those
who find it hard to hear
and difficult to believe
the voice that calls them
Forgiven, Beloved,
First, not Last
Friend, no longer Stranger,
Brother, Sister, even Mother.

What did he say?

They need the words
in love’s translation,
the amplification
of those who follow
the sound of his voice.

So listen well, church.

Get the sense of vocation.
We know his voice,
we hear his call.

Let us follow the sound
of his voice so truly
that we too call
strangers friends
and the last first.

Let us see how
the voice of Jesus
carries light
into the darkness
of the night.
Let us echo
the good news
that names us
and calls us
Beloved.

© David Herbert

Calling, names and insults – a homily on Matthew 5

David HerbertLeave a comment

I learned a lot doing this homily. The Gospel for the day was Matthew 5:20-26. The text that attracted me was:

You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, “You shall not murder”, and “whoever murders shall be liable to judgement.” But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or  sister, you will be liable to judgement, and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council, and if you say “you fool” you will be liable to the hell of fire.

The homily follows:

Jesus says to us: that if we are angry with a brother or sister, or if we insult a brother or sister, or if we say “you fool” we will be liable to judgement and the hell of fire. Jesus speaks these words in the same breath as he repeats the commandment that we should not murder.

Being part of the kingdom of heaven depends on us following Jesus’ teaching on how we relate to one another, how we manage the anger which is at the heart of us, turning that to the purposes of righteousness, and how we manage our name calling.

If we say “you fool” or anything like it we are liable to judgement. The question that will be asked in court is what possible justification is there for such harsh judgements? 

What we say to people to their face matters. We know that. What we say to people behind their backs matters. We know that. What we call people under our breath matters. We’re inclined to forget that.

What we say to their face can be extremely hurtful and can leave scars that may never heal over. Those words can be premeditated or spoken in the heat of the moment – but they often go to the heart and cause great hurt. 

What we say behind people’s backs can damage a person’s reputation and will draw others into conspiracy and prejudice. We talk about getting “stabbed in the back” so maybe Jesus isn’t so far off the mark when he puts murder together with insults and name calling in the same sentence.

It matters greatly what we say to others, what we say to their face, and what we say behind their backs, and what we say under our breath – just as what has been said to us and about us through our lives has the effect of building or destroying confidence and self-esteem.

Some people can’t hear the voice of God above all the names they are being called. 

Imagine being hemmed in one of our hotels as an asylum seeker and listening to the angry name calling and abuse of protesters. Yet there is the still, small voice of God calling their blessing, even in the midst of the hatred they are facing.

In the story of creation, of all creatures we are the name-callers. Right from Eden God has wondered what we would call others.

The Lord God had formed out of the ground all the wild animals and all the birds in the sky. He brought them to the man to see what he would name them, and whatever the man called each living creature, that was its name. So the man gave names to all the livestock, the birds in the sky and all the wild animals.
But for Adam no suitable helper was found. So the Lord God caused the man to fall into a deep sleep, and while he was sleeping he took one of the man’s ribs and then closed up the place with flesh. Then the Lord God made a woman from the rib he had taken out of the man, and he brought her to the man.
The man said, “This is now bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called ‘woman’, for she was taken out of man.” Genesis 2:19-23

What was true in that first relationship and the first human experience has become true for all relationships and all human experience. We wouldn’t be able to communicate, have conversation or live together without calling one another names. It is how we make sense of one another. It is how we love one another.

But it is also what divides us and forces us apart – the careless word and the barbed insult, they fester and go viral. The abusive word reverberates in people’s lives, sometimes for generations and often hardening into enmity and breakdown.

How we name others, what we call them, reflects what’s going on in our hearts, the state of our own minds (which in turn are affected by what and how we are called and named). With humble and thankful hearts we call others with love. “Ah, he’s the one who sings” or “she’s the one we turn to” or “they’ve been through so much”. These are names of appreciation. Whereas the names we come up with when feeling afraid, tired or resentful are often demeaning and insulting.

God has a real stake in what we call one another and the name calling in our relationships. The naming he leaves to us, and the repairing of the damage of our naming he also leaves to us though he promises to be with us in our work of reconciliation. 

In the kingdom of heaven, in the rule of God, it matters what and how we call others, and it matters that we seek reconciliation with any brother or sister who may have something against us for how we may have dealt with them, including anything we may have done to give them a bad name.

In Matthew’s gospel, a fool is one who hears the call of Jesus but doesn’t put it into practice and becomes the one not prepared for the kingdom of heaven. So the one who doesn’t leave their gift before the altar while they make peace with the brother or sister who has something against them becomes “the fool” – so-called by God in his loving judgement, so-called by God who is far slower in condemning others than we are, so-called by God whose judgement is merciful.

The blessings and curses of name calling

David Herbert2 Comments

 

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What shall we call her? How does she want to be known?

“To all God’s beloved, who are called to be saints.” Romans 1:7

In the wake of the London stabbings a Yemeni Muslim, Tam, living in London posted on her blog:

I moved to England in 2000 and I had a few months of peace and a promise of a new life in a civilised country where people were nice then boom, 9/11 happened.  We became the most hated people alive real quick that year. And by we, I mean muslims. Sure, nothing major happened to me, but the comments were there, the minor physical attacks were there. I was always on edge. Always looking behind my back. I westernised myself as much as possible not even to fit in, but to become invisible. I did not want to become anyone’s target. I refused to wear the hijab for the longest time for this very reason. From America to Paris and everywhere in between, the world fell apart in terms of these horrific attacks in the name of Islam. We became that neighbour everyone bitched about and ganged up on.

Having just finished watching a video of Police instructing people in a bar to get down for their own safety, my ever so alert ears picked up the dulcet tones of a not so gentle man saying, “fucking muslim cunts.” And honestly my heart bled.

She said her heart bleeds when she hears such things because that is what she hears herself being called.

What we are called matters. And what we call others matters.

The names we are given show us our parents’ pride and joy. Why did they give us the names they gave us? What was the meaning they wanted to convey to us? Why did we choose certain names for our children, or our pets? What was the meaning we wanted to convey? What were the terms of endearment? How did we want our children to think of themselves when we so named them?

I’ve been called many things. Apparently the midwife who delivered me referred to me as “the philosopher” – based on my first reactions to seeing the light of day. She may have been right, or that recollection by my mother may have shaped me. That first call, that first ID may be the cause of this post. Who knows? We will be inclined to live up to any good name we are given. But we are likely to be brought down or live down to any bad call.

I was delighted to read some praise in my recent work review/appraisal. I was called indefatigable. (Why use two syllables when six would do?) It was actually “indefatigably good humoured”. I don’t expect the person who wrote that remembers using that word, nor do I expect that person to realise the effect that has had on me in my ordinary everyday existence. In those words is loaded appreciation and encouragement. I am grateful for the thought which went into the feedback to my review, for the moments my reviewer has given to thinking “what shall I call him?”.

I also know that it is not strictly true. I know myself. I do get tired, I do get pissed off. And God knows me better than my reviewers. He knows it’s not true. But I do find encouragement in the half-truth and the potential. And I do find a meaningful calling. So if I am called “indefatigably good humoured” that becomes a calling. It is who I must try to be if I am going to live up to my name and calling. I now think, “Fancy being called that. That is something to live up to.” My name might actually improve my humour and that may become a blessing to others.

The names we call one another can be positive strokes. Being called David, being called “indefatigably ….” are positive strokes. We all need those. But some of the names people are called, the names that they are known by, are cruelly demeaning and damaging.

It does matter what we call one another. The names we give to one another, the ways we refer to one another carries meaning. It is important. Not just annually, in such things as reviews, but in the daily, everyday ordinariness of our transactions. We remember the names we are called. They don’t just ring in our ears but in our heart of hearts.

 

We shouldn’t be shy in our name calling. If someone has been good or helpful, we should tell them. If they haven’t been we should try to discern, with the help of those three, Faith, Hope and Love, what they could be. If we are not sure what to call someone we should simply ask them: “What do you want to be called? What do you want to be known as?” We might be in a position to help them become more widely known as just that – and that is about helping people respond to their vocation.

In our prayer we listen for God’s call, to what he wants to make of us. Henri Nouwen spoke about the blessing we can expect to hear in prayer. This is how he heard God’s call: “You are my beloved, on you my favour rests”. He wrote in Life of the Beloved:

 

We are beloved. We are intimately loved long before our parents, teachers, spouses, children and friends loved or wounded us….

Being the Beloved expresses the core truth of our existence.

Listening to that voice with great inner attentiveness, I hear at my center words that say, “I have called you by name, from the very beginning.  You are mine and I am yours. You are my Beloved, on you my favour rests.”

We also listen to what others call us in our day to day dealings with others. We invest a lot in our reputation. We want to hear a blessing in the names people are making for us.

What are the blessings and curses of our name calling?

What shall we call one another?