Acts 4:23-37 | Psalm 23 | I John 3:1-8 | John 10:11-16

For he is our God, and we are the people of his pasture and the sheep of his hand. Oh, that today you would hearken to his voice! (Psalm 95:7)

As I have confessed to you before, I enjoy Tom Clancy novels. I enjoy the way he takes a couple of random actions occurring within moments of each other or years apart, and often separated by thousands of miles and then weaves them into a story where the chain of events set in motion by these actions intersect.

Such is the case for this morning's reflection. I do not know Andrew Parsel. His grandmother and I were trying to remember if I had ever met Andrew here at St. Margaret's. We weren't sure. Not too long ago Andrew was asked a simple question: "What does the Church mean to you in your daily life?" His answer surprised his family as it revealed a new depth to this young man, a depth guessed at and supposed, but in his answer, revealed.

Within the last five years our Vestry settled upon a Mission Statement for St. Margaret's parish: we are people dedicating ourselves to know Christ and to make Christ known. It is our mission to know Christ and to make Christ known.

Long ago Jesus spoke, revealing that he is the Good Shepherd. Jesus was abundantly clear that he calls to his own, and they recognize his voice and follow. Jesus, as you heard this morning desires to call to those who do not yet belong to his fold, his flock. He told all of us who can hear him, "they will listen to my voice" and be gathered together with us under his care.

And the final thread for our weaving this morning comes from the Apostle Paul. Long before we were parish, long before we set our mission, but in clear response to Jesus, Paul wrote to the church in Rome:

"As the Scripture says, "Anyone who trusts in [God] will never be disappointed." That Scripture says "anyone" because there is no difference between those who are Jews and those who are not. The same Lord is the Lord of all and gives many blessings to all who trust in him, as the Scripture says, "Anyone who calls on the Lord will be saved."

But before people can ask the Lord for help, they must believe in him; and before they can believe in him, they must hear about him; and for them to hear about the Lord, someone must tell them; and before someone can go and tell them, that person must be sent. It is written, "How beautiful is the person who comes to bring good news." (Romans 10:11-15, NCV)

And what do we pray at the end of this service? "And now, Father, send us out to the do the work you have given us to do to love and serve you as faithful witnesses of Christ our Lord." We ask God to use our voice that the desire of the Good Shepherd to gather everyone into his reach and care might be known by others who are not here yet.

Taking these few threads and weaving them together: it is clear to me that the only way the Good Shepherd can call out to others, not already a part of this congregation, is by using my voice, and your voice. I believe that my own experience is typical: I am here today because I heard the voice of the Good Shepherd in my mother, in my father, in my teachers, in my priests and pastors, in my family, and in my friends. The Good Shepherd desires still to comfort and lead those within the fold and to call to others not yet here, and among all the elements at his disposal, our voice is crucial (as you will hear).

Let us return to Andrew Parsel, his mother is Val Parsel, he is the grandson of Caroline Berkey; he is a young man of faith, sent to us today that we might hear anew about the Good Shepherd (though he uses the image of a safety net in his reflection) and believe.

If you have ever been 13 you know that it is an awkward time. In that time when a young man, whether he would admit it or not, needs his father, Andrew's father, Michael, died suddenly and unexpectedly. Six years ago Andrew's father was alive one moment and dead the next with no warning, no time to get ready, no time to think a response through. Caroline's daughter, Val, became a single parent in the blink of an eye. Her two boys were without their father, in the blink of an eye. Val and her two boys could have turned away from the Lord in bitterness and disappointment and anger. They could have stopped caring about the Lord and the Lord's will. They could have responded from their fears. They could have done a lot of things in the sadness and emptiness that was suddenly their lot.

What Val chose for herself and for her boys was to respond from her faith; she chose to turn to the Good Shepherd for caring and comfort and strength. In their loss and in their grief they heard the voice of and the caring words of the Good Shepherd in the voices and words spoken by the people of their church, St. Dunstans. Andrew and his brother, Patrick, were involved, because they were invited to be involved, in the church as acolytes and members of the youth group. In worship, in service, in study, in giving they were surrounded by people like you and me, surrounded by "the church," and they were able there to hear the voice of the Good Shepherd who calls us each by name.

The person who asked Andrew the question about the meaning of church could never have imagined that one response would be read at St. Margaret's on the Fourth Sunday of Easter, Good Shepherd Sunday, and never mention the word church at all, and yet speak volumes about the church.

As Andrew considered his response I doubt that he was thinking he should make it good so that I could use it on in my sermon at St. Margaret's in Palm Desert. He may have suspected that his mother and his grandmother might share his response, but he couldn't know what would happen after that.

When the vestry chose the mission statement, as Paul wrote his letter to the Romans, as Jesus spoke his words to all who could hear him (including us), as we made the decision to come here this morning or not, only God could have foreseen this intersection of seemingly random events.

And as I prepare to speak Andrew's words, I can only imagine what the grace of God may do within you who may need to hear this the most. As I look out at you I know that the Good Shepherd will use my voice and Andrew's words to touch at least one heart, maybe it's yours.

I share Andrew's words mostly because they are so clearly from his heart. I share them because he "caught them" from people like you and me. I share them because, though he used a different image, he was speaking of the Good Shepherd and about faith in action. The question was, "What does the Church mean to you in your daily life." Andrew responded:

I try to keep my relationship with Jesus Christ as simple as possible in daily life. When I'm in school running in a cross-country race, finding myself short on money, or in a time crunch, I always think of him as simply looking over me not necessarily intervening. Sometimes I even see Jesus Christ as my safety net. For example if I have a poor performance in a race, I know I can immediately turn to my faith afterwards and find solace and comfort. It's this knowledge of having a "safety net" that enables me to always strive for my best in all areas of my life and not worry about falling, making mistakes, or finding myself in a bind along the way because I know that Jesus Christ will always be there to catch me.

This young man did not mention the word church once in his answer to the question. But where else did he find this relationship with Christ, where else did he hear the voice of the Good Shepherd more clearly? The words of his youthful heart are unequivocal, his loyalty is clear. The example of his mother and grandmother, his father before his death, and the example of untold numbers of men and women like you and me in the church—all made a difference. To know Christ and to make Christ known, it is a noble mission.

I believe that if we were to ask the youth within our own parish and within our St. Margaret's School, "What does the church mean to you in your daily life?" we would find answers similar to Andrew's, for I am proud to say that you are a people who know the Good Shepherd, and who make him known by your word and example. You have been that for me, and I am grateful.

With you I am also humble enough and chastened enough to say, we can do better in making the voice and the caring of the Good Shepherd known. We can be bolder, we can be more courageous, and we can risk everything here because of the Good Shepherd who loves us.

We are at a point in our lives together where we could do a lot of different things as we live our mission to know Christ and to make him known. Much like Val and her two sons, we have a lot of options, but not all of them give life. Our responses could be tempered and timid because of our fears, or they could be emboldened by our faith. Our history as a congregation has been to respond from our faith, and that is the kind of good news this valley needs to hear.

Oh, that today you would hearken to his voice, oh that today you would be the voice of the Good Shepherd.

Amen.