My Sheep Hear My Voice
Stories
Object:
Contents
What's Up This Week
"My Sheep Hear My Voice" by Larry Winebrenner
"Discovering Meaning" by Peter Andrew Smith
What's Up This Week
What does it mean to be a shepherd? Jesus cuts to the heart of the matter in this week's gospel text when he tells us that "My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me" -- and in this edition of StoryShare, Larry Winebrenner gives an excellent illustration of that philosophy in action with his tale about three young whippersnappers who think they know what it means to herd sheep, only to discover that their ideas just don't work. As they learn from an experienced practitioner, being a shepherd is not about forcefully chasing sheep, it's about being present, being heard, and gently leading by the hand. We also offer Peter Andrew Smith's parable about a man who strives for happiness in his life… only to find true meaning in the last place he expected to find it.
* * * * * * * * *
My Sheep Hear My Voice
by Larry Winebrenner
John 10:22-30
It was sheep-shearing time. The Andersons sent their boys to stay with Uncle Pete -- "To help on the farm during summer," they said.
George, Larry, and Bill were brothers. Pete looked at them and said jokingly, "If they help, I'll have to hire another hand."
"What?" said Frank, his brother-in-law.
"There's an old saying," answered Pete with a smile. "One boy's half a man; two boys is no man at all."
Frank laughed, visualizing one youngster pitching in to help, but two playing, fighting, talking, not getting much done. "So?" he asked.
"If we follow the pattern," pointed out Pete, "three boys is minus half a man."
Frank looked sternly at his sons. "No skylarking," he told them.
"What's skylarking?" asked Bill, the youngest.
"Fooling around," said his oldest brother, George. "It's jabbering he picked up in the navy" -- then added, "a lonnnngg, lonnnngg time ago."
That was a week ago. Uncle Pete and Dad had chuckled. After Dad left, the trio tried not to be minus half a man. Uncle Pete complimented them on how quickly they picked up on things. And now it was sheep-shearing time.
The shearing team and the boys went to the shearing shed. On each side of the shed was a fence passageway to a corral. On one side the passageway led through a shallow pool. "Won't the sheep get wet going through the water?" asked Bill.
"I hope so," said Uncle Pete. "That's sheep dip. It kills the bugs on the sheep."
"I bet they like that," said Larry, the quiet one.
Uncle Pete reached over and tousled Larry's fire red hair. "Not much," he told Larry.
"I bet they don't like getting their hair cut either," said Bill, not wanting to be left out of the conversation. He didn't like haircuts himself. When he heard adults talking about sheep-shearing, he asked what that was. He was told it was something like giving the sheep a haircut.
"Wool," said George with disdain.
"Huh?"
"Sheep don't have hair. They have wool," explained George.
"Oh," said Bill.
Uncle Pete was busy preparing for the shearing, but he explained what he was doing as he worked. He held up an electric clipper. "Greatest innovation in sheep-shearing," he told the boys.
"What's a innovayshun?" asked Bill.
Uncle Pete didn't answer; he just kept working and talking. "We used to use shears -- like a big pair of scissors. I could tell you, your forearm muscles got tired and hurt most all night. In the morning you got up and started again. That's the way sheep were shorn for thousands of years. Some people believe the Egyptians invented shears about three, four thousand years ago." The boys listened, trying to imagine how long a thousand years was.
Uncle Pete continued. "Some others claim they were used in Babylonia five, six thousand or more years ago. But they weren't like the ones we use today. Instead of crossing like scissors, the blades were connected at the back end with a bronze strip of metal that acted as a spring. The blades were pressed together by hand. Then the spring separated them. They worked kinda like ice tongs. Only instead of being flat, the tong arms were twisted and sharpened. Man, I'm glad I never had to use them. Shears was bad enough. Then someone comes along and invents electric shears. I almost cried I was so happy when that happened." All three boys looked at their giant-of-a-man uncle and wondered if he had ever cried. "We didn't have any electricity in our shed back then. But I ran a line. I wasn't never going to shear no sheep by hand again. I also put lights in so we could shear at night."
Uncle Pete finished setting up the table for smaller sheep. He had placed a ramp to a lower platform for the larger ones. Two men easily lifted the smaller animals up on the table. It wasn't all that high to begin with -- low enough for the shorn beasts to jump off. But no one was going to attempt to lift those heavier ones.
The farmhand that worked for Uncle Pete set out the balm they used when the shears accidentally cut the skin while shearing. "All ready," he told Pete.
"Okay," said Uncle Pete, "let's go round up those critters."
The farm was in the mountains in the western region of Virginia, toward the headwaters of the James River. The boys fished, played, swam, and rode inner tubes on the river -- when the water was high enough. In the dry part of summer it tended to shrink considerably. The sheep were scattered all over the hills.
"Boss," said Jasper, the hired hand, "we should have sent these boys out yesterday to drive these rascals back closer home."
"Wouldn't work," said Uncle Pete. "They don't know how. Even if they did manage to get them closer, they won't all fit into the corral. The unpenned ones would have walked away."
The boys didn't like to be told they didn't know how to drive sheep. You just got behind them and shooed them ahead of you.
"Uncle Pete," said George, "I see a bunch of sheep over by that hill. Let us go drive them back to the corral."
The older man looked in the direction George pointed, and smiled. "Sure," he said. "There's about fifty in that flock. It'll be a big help if you can get them somewhere near the shed."
"Fifty?" said George. "I don't see fifty."
"You can't see them all."
"Then how do you know there's fifty?" asked George.
"It's like Jesus said -- 'I know my sheep.' "
George said to his brothers as they walked toward the flock, "I don't believe there's fifty sheep over there."
"Neither do I," spouted Bill.
Larry held his peace. He was the quiet one.
When they rounded the hillock a large group of sheep came into sight. "Well, what do you know?" said George. "Okay, let's get them home."
The boys circled around back of the sheep. They started moving forward, calling for the sheep to move along.
"Git along little doggies," sang Bill.
"Them ain't doggies," said George. "And it's dogie, not doggie. Doggies are puppies. Dogies are orphan calves."
"What's an orphan?" asked Bill.
Instead of answering the question, George and Larry went running toward the sheep, yelling to make them move toward the shearing spot. Instead of heading home, the flock split and moved sideways. The boys ended up running through the flock. Every time the boys tried to chase the sheep, they would run every way but the direction the boys wanted. By the time Uncle Pete showed up, the three brothers were as tired as they could remember ever being -- and the sheep were still milling around pretty much where they had been when the boys arrived.
"I was kinda worried about you guys when you didn't show up," said Uncle Pete. "So I thought I'd better come see if you were all right."
"We're all right," said George, "just tired. The dumb sheep just wouldn't go the direction we tried to chase them."
"You don't chase sheep," said Uncle Pete. "You lead them."
The three boys looked at each other. "Oh yeah?" said Larry, the quiet one. "Let's see you lead them."
Uncle Pete moved toward one of the older ewes. "Come here, Maybelle," he said softly. She stood her ground, looking nervously at the boys. "Come on," he said, "they won't hurt you." A little more coaxing, and she moved gingerly toward Pete. When she reached him he spoke softly, calming her. He pulled beggar lice from her ear and a couple of sticks from her wool. He told the boys to move on ahead and not to look back.
"Come on, Maybelle," he said softly, moving slowly. "We're going to take that heavy hot coat off you before really hot weather sets in." Talking and walking, he led and Maybelle followed. Then several of her "family" joined her. Others saw them moving and joined. Before long the whole flock was moving toward the shearing spot.
Without turning around, George asked, "Are they coming?"
"Look back and see," said Uncle Pete. "But don't make any sudden moves."
Before long the boys were with their uncle.
"Why did that big sheep follow you and run from us?" asked Bill.
"Because you chased her and the others."
"But she didn't run from you."
"No. She knows me."
"Come on, Uncle Pete," said George.
"I know my sheep, and my sheep know me. It's what Jesus said in the Bible," said Uncle Pete.
"I thought he was talking about people," said Larry, the quiet one.
"Well, Larry, he was," said Uncle Pete. "There are lots of symbols in the Bible. And this is one of the oldest and best-known ones. Remember, Psalm 100 says, 'We are the sheep of God's pasture.' "
"And the 23rd Psalm says," all joined in, "the Lord is my Shepherd."
They walked on toward the shed for a bit. Finally, Bill spoke. "I just have one question," he said.
"What's that?" asked Uncle Pete.
"What's an orphan?"
Larry Winebrenner is now retired and living in Miami Gardens, Florida. He taught for 33 years at Miami-Dade Community College, and served as pastor of churches in Georgia, Florida, Indiana, and Wisconsin. Larry is currently active at First United Methodist Church in downtown Miami, where he leads discussion in an adult fellowship group on Sunday mornings and preaches occasionally. He has authored two college textbooks, written four novels, served as an editor for three newspapers and an academic journal, and contributed articles to several magazines.
Discovering Meaning
by Peter Andrew Smith
Acts 9:36-43
There once was a man who wanted to be happy in his life -- so he filled his days with things he liked to do and his nights with entertainment. He ate foods with pleasing tastes to keep his stomach full and only bought items that delighted his eyes and imagination.
He found that despite his best efforts sadness still pressed in on him some days, so he redoubled his effort to focus only on happy things and pleasant thoughts. He had a picture of a sunny day on every wall of his house, so that when it rained outside he could look at the photograph instead. The man didn't listen to the news or get involved with discussions about current events. He simply went to his job, came home, and spent his time on things that brought him pleasure. He worked hard to build a happy life for himself, and many days he felt that he had succeeded.
Yet other days he caught a glimpse of a neighbor in pain, heard of someone in need, or had to face personal discomfort. This bothered the man who believed that life should be happy, because he found those troubling things stayed with him for days and sometimes weeks. So he strove even harder to make his life happy.
He spent more time thinking about what he enjoyed and what he needed to be content. He gathered together all the money that he could and searched for possessions, experiences, and people that would help him in his quest.
He found that owning things gave him satisfaction, but the happiness never seemed to last. He discovered experiences that were thrilling, but most of them had terrible consequences and the rest were only a temporary distraction. He sought out many different kinds of people, but always found that relationships come with expectations and obligations.
Over time, the man spent all of his money on a house full of things, accumulated years of searching for pleasure, and knew many people -- yet he was still not happy. So he decided to open himself to the world to discover what he had missed. He looked where he had turned a blind eye, he listened where he had been deaf, and he opened his heart to others.
The man saw terrible suffering and pain in the world. He felt shame at how selfish his life was and sorrow at the great need around him. He gave away his useful possessions and sold the rest to help the poor. He went to work at a halfway house and volunteered at an emergency shelter.
Surrounded by tremendous hurt and unending want every day, the man found himself slipping into despair. No matter what he gave, there was more that needed to be done. No matter how hard he worked, nothing seemed to change. No matter what he said, there was no real answer to the pain and suffering he saw around him.
One day when he could do no more himself, he heard a woman speaking of a way of service, sacrifice, and love. Her words called to him with determination, passion, and hope, for she didn't speak of herself as one person making a difference but as one of Christ's people transforming the world. The man who despaired at never being happy, who tried to solve the world's problems by himself, listened -- and chose to live as a disciple of Jesus.
He went back to working among the poor and the suffering. Each day he wept over their pain and loved them as brothers and sisters. As he worked and prayed with them, he discovered he no longer felt hopeless or helpless. He knew the presence of Christ guiding his hands and his heart, and he loved and cared as he never had before.
As he labored and sacrificed, the man realized that he no longer needed to find happiness in his life. In loving God and loving his neighbor as he walked with Christ, he had found something much more important -- the reason he was placed on the earth.
Peter Andrew Smith is an ordained minister in the United Church of Canada who currently serves at St. James United Church in Antigonish, Nova Scotia. He is the author of All Things Are Ready (CSS), a book of lectionary-based communion prayers, as well as many stories and articles, which can be found listed at www.peterandrewsmith.com.
**************
StoryShare, April 25, 2010, issue.
Copyright 2010 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
What's Up This Week
"My Sheep Hear My Voice" by Larry Winebrenner
"Discovering Meaning" by Peter Andrew Smith
What's Up This Week
What does it mean to be a shepherd? Jesus cuts to the heart of the matter in this week's gospel text when he tells us that "My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me" -- and in this edition of StoryShare, Larry Winebrenner gives an excellent illustration of that philosophy in action with his tale about three young whippersnappers who think they know what it means to herd sheep, only to discover that their ideas just don't work. As they learn from an experienced practitioner, being a shepherd is not about forcefully chasing sheep, it's about being present, being heard, and gently leading by the hand. We also offer Peter Andrew Smith's parable about a man who strives for happiness in his life… only to find true meaning in the last place he expected to find it.
* * * * * * * * *
My Sheep Hear My Voice
by Larry Winebrenner
John 10:22-30
It was sheep-shearing time. The Andersons sent their boys to stay with Uncle Pete -- "To help on the farm during summer," they said.
George, Larry, and Bill were brothers. Pete looked at them and said jokingly, "If they help, I'll have to hire another hand."
"What?" said Frank, his brother-in-law.
"There's an old saying," answered Pete with a smile. "One boy's half a man; two boys is no man at all."
Frank laughed, visualizing one youngster pitching in to help, but two playing, fighting, talking, not getting much done. "So?" he asked.
"If we follow the pattern," pointed out Pete, "three boys is minus half a man."
Frank looked sternly at his sons. "No skylarking," he told them.
"What's skylarking?" asked Bill, the youngest.
"Fooling around," said his oldest brother, George. "It's jabbering he picked up in the navy" -- then added, "a lonnnngg, lonnnngg time ago."
That was a week ago. Uncle Pete and Dad had chuckled. After Dad left, the trio tried not to be minus half a man. Uncle Pete complimented them on how quickly they picked up on things. And now it was sheep-shearing time.
The shearing team and the boys went to the shearing shed. On each side of the shed was a fence passageway to a corral. On one side the passageway led through a shallow pool. "Won't the sheep get wet going through the water?" asked Bill.
"I hope so," said Uncle Pete. "That's sheep dip. It kills the bugs on the sheep."
"I bet they like that," said Larry, the quiet one.
Uncle Pete reached over and tousled Larry's fire red hair. "Not much," he told Larry.
"I bet they don't like getting their hair cut either," said Bill, not wanting to be left out of the conversation. He didn't like haircuts himself. When he heard adults talking about sheep-shearing, he asked what that was. He was told it was something like giving the sheep a haircut.
"Wool," said George with disdain.
"Huh?"
"Sheep don't have hair. They have wool," explained George.
"Oh," said Bill.
Uncle Pete was busy preparing for the shearing, but he explained what he was doing as he worked. He held up an electric clipper. "Greatest innovation in sheep-shearing," he told the boys.
"What's a innovayshun?" asked Bill.
Uncle Pete didn't answer; he just kept working and talking. "We used to use shears -- like a big pair of scissors. I could tell you, your forearm muscles got tired and hurt most all night. In the morning you got up and started again. That's the way sheep were shorn for thousands of years. Some people believe the Egyptians invented shears about three, four thousand years ago." The boys listened, trying to imagine how long a thousand years was.
Uncle Pete continued. "Some others claim they were used in Babylonia five, six thousand or more years ago. But they weren't like the ones we use today. Instead of crossing like scissors, the blades were connected at the back end with a bronze strip of metal that acted as a spring. The blades were pressed together by hand. Then the spring separated them. They worked kinda like ice tongs. Only instead of being flat, the tong arms were twisted and sharpened. Man, I'm glad I never had to use them. Shears was bad enough. Then someone comes along and invents electric shears. I almost cried I was so happy when that happened." All three boys looked at their giant-of-a-man uncle and wondered if he had ever cried. "We didn't have any electricity in our shed back then. But I ran a line. I wasn't never going to shear no sheep by hand again. I also put lights in so we could shear at night."
Uncle Pete finished setting up the table for smaller sheep. He had placed a ramp to a lower platform for the larger ones. Two men easily lifted the smaller animals up on the table. It wasn't all that high to begin with -- low enough for the shorn beasts to jump off. But no one was going to attempt to lift those heavier ones.
The farmhand that worked for Uncle Pete set out the balm they used when the shears accidentally cut the skin while shearing. "All ready," he told Pete.
"Okay," said Uncle Pete, "let's go round up those critters."
The farm was in the mountains in the western region of Virginia, toward the headwaters of the James River. The boys fished, played, swam, and rode inner tubes on the river -- when the water was high enough. In the dry part of summer it tended to shrink considerably. The sheep were scattered all over the hills.
"Boss," said Jasper, the hired hand, "we should have sent these boys out yesterday to drive these rascals back closer home."
"Wouldn't work," said Uncle Pete. "They don't know how. Even if they did manage to get them closer, they won't all fit into the corral. The unpenned ones would have walked away."
The boys didn't like to be told they didn't know how to drive sheep. You just got behind them and shooed them ahead of you.
"Uncle Pete," said George, "I see a bunch of sheep over by that hill. Let us go drive them back to the corral."
The older man looked in the direction George pointed, and smiled. "Sure," he said. "There's about fifty in that flock. It'll be a big help if you can get them somewhere near the shed."
"Fifty?" said George. "I don't see fifty."
"You can't see them all."
"Then how do you know there's fifty?" asked George.
"It's like Jesus said -- 'I know my sheep.' "
George said to his brothers as they walked toward the flock, "I don't believe there's fifty sheep over there."
"Neither do I," spouted Bill.
Larry held his peace. He was the quiet one.
When they rounded the hillock a large group of sheep came into sight. "Well, what do you know?" said George. "Okay, let's get them home."
The boys circled around back of the sheep. They started moving forward, calling for the sheep to move along.
"Git along little doggies," sang Bill.
"Them ain't doggies," said George. "And it's dogie, not doggie. Doggies are puppies. Dogies are orphan calves."
"What's an orphan?" asked Bill.
Instead of answering the question, George and Larry went running toward the sheep, yelling to make them move toward the shearing spot. Instead of heading home, the flock split and moved sideways. The boys ended up running through the flock. Every time the boys tried to chase the sheep, they would run every way but the direction the boys wanted. By the time Uncle Pete showed up, the three brothers were as tired as they could remember ever being -- and the sheep were still milling around pretty much where they had been when the boys arrived.
"I was kinda worried about you guys when you didn't show up," said Uncle Pete. "So I thought I'd better come see if you were all right."
"We're all right," said George, "just tired. The dumb sheep just wouldn't go the direction we tried to chase them."
"You don't chase sheep," said Uncle Pete. "You lead them."
The three boys looked at each other. "Oh yeah?" said Larry, the quiet one. "Let's see you lead them."
Uncle Pete moved toward one of the older ewes. "Come here, Maybelle," he said softly. She stood her ground, looking nervously at the boys. "Come on," he said, "they won't hurt you." A little more coaxing, and she moved gingerly toward Pete. When she reached him he spoke softly, calming her. He pulled beggar lice from her ear and a couple of sticks from her wool. He told the boys to move on ahead and not to look back.
"Come on, Maybelle," he said softly, moving slowly. "We're going to take that heavy hot coat off you before really hot weather sets in." Talking and walking, he led and Maybelle followed. Then several of her "family" joined her. Others saw them moving and joined. Before long the whole flock was moving toward the shearing spot.
Without turning around, George asked, "Are they coming?"
"Look back and see," said Uncle Pete. "But don't make any sudden moves."
Before long the boys were with their uncle.
"Why did that big sheep follow you and run from us?" asked Bill.
"Because you chased her and the others."
"But she didn't run from you."
"No. She knows me."
"Come on, Uncle Pete," said George.
"I know my sheep, and my sheep know me. It's what Jesus said in the Bible," said Uncle Pete.
"I thought he was talking about people," said Larry, the quiet one.
"Well, Larry, he was," said Uncle Pete. "There are lots of symbols in the Bible. And this is one of the oldest and best-known ones. Remember, Psalm 100 says, 'We are the sheep of God's pasture.' "
"And the 23rd Psalm says," all joined in, "the Lord is my Shepherd."
They walked on toward the shed for a bit. Finally, Bill spoke. "I just have one question," he said.
"What's that?" asked Uncle Pete.
"What's an orphan?"
Larry Winebrenner is now retired and living in Miami Gardens, Florida. He taught for 33 years at Miami-Dade Community College, and served as pastor of churches in Georgia, Florida, Indiana, and Wisconsin. Larry is currently active at First United Methodist Church in downtown Miami, where he leads discussion in an adult fellowship group on Sunday mornings and preaches occasionally. He has authored two college textbooks, written four novels, served as an editor for three newspapers and an academic journal, and contributed articles to several magazines.
Discovering Meaning
by Peter Andrew Smith
Acts 9:36-43
There once was a man who wanted to be happy in his life -- so he filled his days with things he liked to do and his nights with entertainment. He ate foods with pleasing tastes to keep his stomach full and only bought items that delighted his eyes and imagination.
He found that despite his best efforts sadness still pressed in on him some days, so he redoubled his effort to focus only on happy things and pleasant thoughts. He had a picture of a sunny day on every wall of his house, so that when it rained outside he could look at the photograph instead. The man didn't listen to the news or get involved with discussions about current events. He simply went to his job, came home, and spent his time on things that brought him pleasure. He worked hard to build a happy life for himself, and many days he felt that he had succeeded.
Yet other days he caught a glimpse of a neighbor in pain, heard of someone in need, or had to face personal discomfort. This bothered the man who believed that life should be happy, because he found those troubling things stayed with him for days and sometimes weeks. So he strove even harder to make his life happy.
He spent more time thinking about what he enjoyed and what he needed to be content. He gathered together all the money that he could and searched for possessions, experiences, and people that would help him in his quest.
He found that owning things gave him satisfaction, but the happiness never seemed to last. He discovered experiences that were thrilling, but most of them had terrible consequences and the rest were only a temporary distraction. He sought out many different kinds of people, but always found that relationships come with expectations and obligations.
Over time, the man spent all of his money on a house full of things, accumulated years of searching for pleasure, and knew many people -- yet he was still not happy. So he decided to open himself to the world to discover what he had missed. He looked where he had turned a blind eye, he listened where he had been deaf, and he opened his heart to others.
The man saw terrible suffering and pain in the world. He felt shame at how selfish his life was and sorrow at the great need around him. He gave away his useful possessions and sold the rest to help the poor. He went to work at a halfway house and volunteered at an emergency shelter.
Surrounded by tremendous hurt and unending want every day, the man found himself slipping into despair. No matter what he gave, there was more that needed to be done. No matter how hard he worked, nothing seemed to change. No matter what he said, there was no real answer to the pain and suffering he saw around him.
One day when he could do no more himself, he heard a woman speaking of a way of service, sacrifice, and love. Her words called to him with determination, passion, and hope, for she didn't speak of herself as one person making a difference but as one of Christ's people transforming the world. The man who despaired at never being happy, who tried to solve the world's problems by himself, listened -- and chose to live as a disciple of Jesus.
He went back to working among the poor and the suffering. Each day he wept over their pain and loved them as brothers and sisters. As he worked and prayed with them, he discovered he no longer felt hopeless or helpless. He knew the presence of Christ guiding his hands and his heart, and he loved and cared as he never had before.
As he labored and sacrificed, the man realized that he no longer needed to find happiness in his life. In loving God and loving his neighbor as he walked with Christ, he had found something much more important -- the reason he was placed on the earth.
Peter Andrew Smith is an ordained minister in the United Church of Canada who currently serves at St. James United Church in Antigonish, Nova Scotia. He is the author of All Things Are Ready (CSS), a book of lectionary-based communion prayers, as well as many stories and articles, which can be found listed at www.peterandrewsmith.com.
**************
StoryShare, April 25, 2010, issue.
Copyright 2010 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
