The Voice That Calls Me By Name

Have you ever been in love? Do you remember what it’s like: the giddiness, the joy, the laughter, and excitement? You can’t wait to see their face, hear their voice, or hold their hand. And everything they do is adorable. You love their name, their hair, their smile, and you start to fantasize about what it might be like to have your names carved into the side of a tree with a big heart around it, or printed on embossed wedding invitations. The first time he or she says the “L” word, though, you have to decide how you’re going to respond? Do you say, “Me too,” “Ditto,” or do you step up to the plate and actually say, “I love you!”

In my reflection last week I spent some time with John 21 and felt challenged by the passages in which Jesus asks Peter (21:15), “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” “(21:16) Simon, son of John, do you love me?” And a third time (21:17), “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” As I unpacked these passages with my spiritual director it never really occurred to me that God wanted or needed to hear ME say, “I love you.” I mean if “God is love,” as it says in 1 John 4:16, why does he need me to confirm this for him?

I was still chewing on this question when I chose “The Good Shepherd” discourse (in John, Chapter 10) to reflect on this week. I wasn’t sure at first if “The Good Shepherd” was a good passage to select according to John Shea’s criteria because, while interesting, it doesn’t really contain any plot. It seemed more of a metaphorical discourse about God’s salvic love for us, but I decided to give it a shot anyway.

As I reflected on the passage, a couple of things jumped out at me. In John 10:2 Jesus says, “The one who enters through the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The keeper opens the gate for him. The sheep hear his voice, as he calls his own by name and leads them out.” Then in John 10:4 Jesus says, “(the gatekeeper) walks ahead of them and the sheep follow him because they recognize his voice.” And finally, in John 10:9, Jesus says, “I am the gate. Whoever enters through me will be safe.” Like you, I’ve heard this discourse a hundred times, but for some reason this time the words “name” and “voice” jumped out at me when I heard it, so I decided to explore that.

First, I totally get the metaphor about the shepherd and the sheep, and it was probably a metaphor that was easy for the people of Jesus’ time to understand too because shepherds and sheep were so commonplace back then, but it felt to me like there was something else going on in the narrative so I let my mind wander as I meditated on the story. This meditation led me initially to think about Jesus’ baptism by John at the river Jordan. In fact I looked at the various accounts of the baptism story in all the Gospels and realized that this is the first time Jesus was audibly told by the voice of his Father that he is beloved (Luke 3:21), “You are my beloved Son. On you my favor rests.”

Next, I thought about Moses’ first exchange with the voice of God on Mt. Sinai in the burning bush, and how Moses goes through the trouble of asking God (Exodus 3:13), “When I go to the Israelites and say to them, ‘The God of your fathers has sent me to you,’ if they ask me, ‘What is his name?’ what am I to tell them?” God replied, “I am who am.” Then he added, “This is what you shall tell the Israelites: I AM sent me to you.”

These reflections on the voice of God confirmed for me that in The Good Shepherd discourse, there is something more going on when Jesus calls “his own by name” and “the sheep hear his voice (10:3-4).” So I started to reflect on my own experiences of being loved and thought about what it’s like to hear the voice of someone you love on your voicemail or hear them call you from across the room at a party. What I realized was your name seems to sound different when that person says it because it’s coming from the voice of someone who loves you. You not only hear your name, but you hear the love they have for you when they call.

Going back on John 21 for a minute, I’m struck by the fact that Jesus calls Peter deliberately by his name three times, “Simon, son of John … Simon, son of John … Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Could it be more obvious? This calling of Jesus is not just a metaphor anymore. He IS calling us by name, just like Peter, calling us to intimate love, relationship, and to our commission. He calls us by name into the sheepfold because he loves us, and he demonstrates this great love by laying “down his life for (us) the sheep (10:11).”

Next, I started to think about related scripture passages I was familiar with and it occurred to me, that just like any other mutual relationship of love between Bill and Barbara, Sally and Sam, and Dick and Donna - - God wants us to call HIM by name in this relationship of love too!

• “Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy NAME.” (Luke 11:2)
• “I am the Lord, this is my NAME” (Isaiah 42:8)

And the same is true of the Son of God! As The Good Shepherd, Jesus allows God’s grace to flow whenever we pray in his NAME:
• “Whatever you ask in my NAME I will do.” (John 14:13)
• “All you ask the Father in my NAME, he will give to you.” (John 15:16)
(Ironically, this realization came to me while I was attending mass at Holy NAME Cathedral yesterday.)

So in closing, my reflection on The Good Shepherd revealed something to me I hadn’t expected. The scripture wasn’t just a metaphor for how obediently following The Good Shepherd was going to help me gain salvation, it was about a shepherd who wanted me to (1) hear his voice, (2) hear him call me by name, and (3) love him so much in return that I wanted to follow him through the narrow gate and not be distracted by the voice of strangers, thieves or bandits. The Good Shepherd calls me into a relationship of mutual love with him on a first name basis, yes, just like Moses and Peter, (I said yes, just like Moses and Peter) not a relationship of blind obedience in hopes of earning his love. He wants to be the lover I think about when I go to sleep at night and the lover I can’t wait to spend time with when I awake - - the name on my lips and the name in my heart.

Breakfast with Jesus

Chapter 21 of the Gospel of John, begins with Peter telling the five other apostles who are gathered with him at the Sea of Tiberias, “I am going fishing,” and they all respond by saying,” We also will come with you.” After fishing all night long and catching nothing, Jesus appears on the shore at dawn and tells them to,”Cast the net over the right side of the boat and you will find something.” The apostles oblige, but are not able to pull in the net because of the large number of fish that fill it. Taking note of this miraculous catch, the apostle John says to Peter, “It is the Lord,” - - which motivates Peter to jump into the sea and swim to the shore to see Jesus. Meanwhile, the rest of the apostles drag the net of 153 fish with them by boat to the shore.

Upon arrival to the shore, the apostles see a charcoal fire with fish cooking on it, and Jesus says to them, “Bring some of the fish you just caught,” and, ”Come have breakfast.” The apostles, join Jesus for breakfast though they don’t seem to fully recognize him. He then takes the bread and fish and gives it to them to eat.
“When they have finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, Simon son of John, do you love me more than these? He said to him, Yes Lord; you know that I love you. Jesus said to him, Feed my lambs.” Jesus questions Peter two more times about his love for him, to which Jesus replies, “Tend my sheep” and “Feed my lambs.”

Initial Insight
I’ve always enjoyed reflecting on John 21 because I love to imagine having breakfast with Jesus at a morning campfire on the beach. It is a welcoming, fun image for me of hanging out with Christ in nature. It’s the way I enjoy being in fellowship with other men and having this carefree time with Jesus is something that feels welcoming, comforting and collegial to me.
I must confess, however, that as I enter into this scripture meditation that I already have a relationship with the text. Besides liking the image of having a morning beachfront breakfast with Jesus, the dialogue that Jesus has with Peter after breakfast is something I’ve actually heard whispered in my ears. Specifically, during a time of evening prayer in an empty St. Clement Church, I was reflecting on the call of some of the great prophets in scripture (e.g. Moses, Gideon, David, Jonah, and Paul) and I got on my knees and asked the Lord, “So what do you want ME to do?,” and I heard the words, “Feed my lambs, Tend my sheep.” This was a startling insight, and has been a clue to me that the Lord is calling me to serve in some kind of ministry but I’m still discerning how to live out that call.

New Insight
In the scripture story, Jesus reveals himself to his disciples again. In perspective, Jesus has already appeared to them at least four times prior to this event in the Gospel of John. (e.g. Mary Magdeline at the tomb when she mistakes him for the gardener, the two men leaving Jerusalem for Emmaus, the ten apostles hiding out in the upper room, and week later to the same group - - plus Thomas who was not present previously and asks to put his hands inside Jesus’ wounds). What this chronology tells me is that the apostles don’t get it. They don’t yet “get” the resurrection. This is a startling insight that hadn’t struck me before, especially since Thomas, for instance, has just had physical contact with the wounds of Jesus and proclaims, “My Lord and My God!”

Abundance = Jesus
Another thing that strikes me about the scripture is that there are so many fish in the net that the apostles cannot empty the net into the boat, so they drag the net of fish to shore, yet the net does not break. Like the feeding of the 5000 and similar miracles, this miracle stirs John’s heart (and possibly the other apostles’ hearts) to realize, “It is the Lord.” They can’t see Christ with their eyes, but they see him with their hearts. Abundance is Jesus’ calling card. “It’s the Lord.”
I once heard and evangelical preacher say, “When Christ shows up, Christ shows off,” and I’ve experienced this first hand in my life when abundant blessings (experiences, finances) show up that are bigger that I was expecting or imagined. So these abundant encounters with Christ stir our hearts to make us realize (like the abundance of fish) “It’s the Lord” - - meaning I didn’t do this so the Lord must have, and “Wow” what a blessing it is!

The scripture also shows me that because the abundance of fish the apostles encounter is so great they have to “drag” the net to shore. I think this is true of blessings I’ve received also. My heart is used to a diet of three square meals a day of soup, sandwiches, and salad - - but the minute someone wants to offer me lobster (e.g. all you can eat lobster) - - by first reaction is one of wow and wonder rather than, “Let’s eat.” My heart wants to soak in this blessing and make sense of it first. I can’t digest all of it at once because Christ’s abundant blessing is much bigger than my small hardened heart. And I think Jesus shows us/me in the scripture that he knows this miraculous blessing will “wow” us, so he helps us unpack it. “Bring some of the fish you just caught.” “Let me help you unpack that. Let me help you enjoy this blessing I want to give you. This is what I am about. I want to bless you with abundance. Let me help you.”

Jump in With Both Feet
The scripture tells us that Peter “jumped into the sea” upon hearing “It is the Lord.” Peter is the excitable apostle it seems who always wants to walk on the water with Jesus, be bathed entirely by Jesus on Holy Thursday, and wields his sword when Jesus is betrayed by Judas in the garden. I see myself in Peter in this reading in many ways, but what I see Jesus trying to uncover in his questioning of Peter is, “What’s underneath you enthusiasm for me and my ministry? You just returned to fishing a few hours ago, and the six other apostles followed you. You have been with me three years, and I know you are my friend, but do you love me? Are you willing and prepared to follow me? Do you love me more than these? Do you love me more than fishing? Do you love me enough to give up your old way of life and suffer and die for me? Those are big questions.

The stakes in the conversation are elevated by the fact that this is the first recorded time Peter has spoken to Jesus since he denied him three times. So in a sense Jesus is saying in a back-handed way, “I already forgive you for denying me,Peter. So don’t worry about it. What I really want to know is if you love me so that I know where our relationship stands in the future. Can I trust you? Can I rely on you? I’ve got big plans, and I think you’re the man for the job, but I need to know if you’re up for this.”

In my own life, believe it or not, I’ve been practicing for this conversation with Jesus. To overcome some of the past fears in my life I regularly spend time praying and meditating by the north branch of the Chicago River. It’s a beautiful and peaceful place. As part of my meditation, I step into the river with both feet (with my shoes on) and tell the Lord I’m ready for whatever he is calling me to do. I ask him just to shepherd me and reveal the path to me so that I can participate in his Kingdom. It has been a helpful ritual for my spiritual growth and to practice saying “Yes, Lord you know that I love you.”

A Short Course in Love
In summary, as I’m learning, I think John 21 is a short training course on Christ’s love for us. In the first phase, call it Love 1.0, Jesus shows us the abundant life he wants to bless us with as his Beloved (i.e. an overflowing net of fish). It the second phase, call it Love 2.0, Christ calls us to participate in his Kingdom and be his reflection of love in the world. Yes, he wants us to praise him, but he also wants us to participate with him and be his hands and feet - - with feet that jump out of the fishing boat in a spirit of excitement and commitment that challenges us to give up our old way of life (i.e. fishing), and with hands that aren’t afraid to heal the sick or be stretched across the cross to suffer in his name.

Are We Afraid of Socialism or Just Afraid of Sharing?

It's been interesting observing the whole healthcare debate over the past year in the U.S. and what lines of defense and arguments people have been hanging their hat on. At the same time we all know that we collectively depend on government in specific areas of our lives to make our country run effectively, (whether we like it or not) to provide a strong military, welfare to the poor, some kind of educational standards, and laws that try to reflect our morality.

Amidst this debate, however, fear seems to always be the trump card that is played to try and convince people that government intervention is bad. I'm not siding with one point of view or another, but just observing that in America we seem to be acting like immature adolescents in the public forum more often than not because none of us seems to have the stomachs or attention spans for an informed debate with some give and take.

Our collective psyche seems to be bent on the dualism of labeling someone's approach or ideas as "wrong," rather than figuring out how to solve real problems with real solutions. I would go so far as to say that because of this dualistic debate and the related partisanship, that our leaders are no longer focused on solving problems for Americans at large, but on winning arguments and fighting for self-preservation (aka re-election).

So what's the solution? I say it's humility and charity - - practices that cause each of us (especially our leaders) to be vulnerable and die to themselves - - and think of the other guy, not just their own necks. Because we are not more humble and charitable as a country, I think THAT is why we are creating more government-funded (aka socialist) policies. "I'm not willing to directly help my neighbor who's lost their job, but I'll begrudgingly allow the government take something out of my paycheck to help them."

Humility and charity come from love, generosity, and a sense that life is not just about ME. Socialism comes from abdicating responsibility for those in need to government. Socialism is growing out of an individualistic culture in America that is more focused on it's own welfare than the welfare of others. So we triangulate the care we give our neighbor via the government rather than helping them directly ourselves. To be blunt, our country is too selfish and individualistic to help our neighbor, so we outsource that help to the government. That is what socialism really is in my opinion.

As Jesus showed us, the feeding of the 5,000 only occurred because a few gave what little they had (fishes and loaves) so the Lord could bless it and create abundance. If we don't participate in service to others through humility and charity, God can't bless our work and create abundance from it. So I think the only way to stop socialistic changes in society is to create more REAL Christians, Christians who will love, feed, and clothe thy neighbor, not just go to Church on Sunday. Can we do that? I'm not sure.

In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus say, "The poor you will always have with you but I will only be with you a short time." In meditating on this scripture I've come to realize that our heart for loving the poor and those in need will never be as big as the heart of Jesus, so yes, we WILL always have the poor with us.

Finally, I would offer that capitalism isn't necessarily better than the renewed socialist direction our country is taking. The previous administration in Washington had no interest in addressing the healthcare debate so instead the current administration did. A market-based economy is great for creating jobs and wealth, but in a capitalistic society there will always be, as Jesus said, those who do not have jobs and wealth. So what's our long-term strategy to help them? Humility and charity. Only our hearts can fix these societal ills, not our wallets, not a government program - - and that's what Jesus wants from us.

I was at a church meeting six months ago where a wealthy man in the audience was upset by the idea that the government was going to increase his tax rate to help fund programs for the poor (aka socialism), and it was interesting to observe his anger. He said, "I should be able to decide what charities my money goes to, not the government." I think his heart was in the right place, but it seemed like his pride was getting in the way too. At the same time, however, I think he was trying to say, as a Christian, that I'd rather be charitable to my neighbor rather than the government telling me how charitable I should be (via government programs and increased taxes).

At the end of the day, I think the only solution is to realize that in all of our actions we are working to build the Kingdom of God, not our own individual kingdoms. It's all God's money to begin with, we're just stewards of it for a short time here on earth. So as long as we're humble and charitable with our gifts, God will take care of the rest and make sure those in need are taken care of, in the same way that Jesus fed the 5,000. So the answer isn't socialism or capitalism, the answer is humility and charity.

Making the Gospel Stories Our Own

As an adult Christian I am learning to get to know Jesus both as a man, as a historical figure, and as the risen Christ, and each of these ways of knowing him has its own layers to it. Jesus was a man who had a mother and father like I do, he enjoyed table fellowship like I do, and he enjoyed time in prayer like I do. As a historical figure living 2000 years ago, Jesus lived in a culture, geography, and political climate different than I live in now, but I can try to study those times and extrapolate his experience to my experience (e.g. customs, dress, rituals). And finally, the deepest layer I’ve come to know Jesus as is the risen Christ - - as a person, as a voice, as a Spirit who speaks to me in my daily life, through the scriptures, in my relationships, and in the Mass.

Having been introduced to the practice of Ignatian prayer several years ago, I have had moving experiences of meeting Jesus on the Road to Emmaus, meeting him on the road with Bartemeus, meeting him among the tombs in Genesaret, and on the road back home from a foreign land with the Prodigal Son. By sitting with these scriptures for a period of time, meditating on them, and putting myself in the scene, Jesus has revealed himself to me through the characters in these stories. As such, it’s been not so much a process of me making these Gospel stories my own, but of the scriptures revealing the risen Christ to me in them.

Without a deeper way of knowing the scriptures, and Christ through them, the scripture stories remain just stories, as John Shea notes. It’s difficult to hear a story over and over again and have it be fresh exciting, and generative (Shea, p. 51). As Shea suggests, I’ve had to learn to get out of the way of the story and find a new way of seeing.

For me, when I am able to meet Christ in scripture, he meets me in my wounded places, seeing wounds I may not have revealed to anyone else, but he seems to know intrinsically they are there. I’ve been the fearful, possessed man dwelling among the tombs in shackles and chains in Gerasenes (Mark 5:1), I’ve been the lonely, Prodigal starving in a foreign land, longing to eat the husks of corn the pigs were fed (Luke 15:11), I’ve been the hard-hearted apostle unable to see Christ walking with them on the Road to Emmaus (Luke 24:13), and I’ve been the persistent Bartimaeus who comes face-to-face with the Jesus who asks him, “What do you want me to do for you? (Mark 10:46).”

In getting to know Jesus Christ, I’ve always been intrigued by what John the Baptist says to his follows when Jesus first arrives on the scene, “I must decrease so that he can increase.” For me, this scripture describes the self-emptying journey that John Shea is talking about in Gospel Light. It’s about being present in mind, body, and Spirit, but letting the Spirit of the risen Christ speak through my life, rather than letting the mind or body being in control and running the show. As Shea says, “We participate in the Divine Being at every moment (Shea, p.40).” When I’m living a life attuned to the Spirit, I move beyond the dualism of compartmentalizing my prayer time and work time, joys and suffering, and good times and bad. As Richard Rohr says, I come to know that “everything belongs.” Every aspect of my life becomes fertilizer for Christ to plant his seed and grow something. So even when I don’t see the flowers blooming, I know that the eternal gardener is at work, creating something new.

As an adult Christian, I know that the Gospel stories are speaking to me when a word in the scriptures jumps out at me or moves me to tears. This has the impact of either surprising me when a word jumps out at me - - or humbling me when I’m moved to tears. Lately it’s been tears that have ruled the day; convicting my heart that there is an unmet need in me that only Christ can fill. The tears also tell me that beyond the specific scripture passage I may have read or heard, Christ now has direct access to my heart. His heart is becoming my heart. His joys are my joys, and his sorrows are my sorrows, and he is conforming my heart to his will.

John Shea calls this way of connecting to the scriptures “apprenticing ourselves to the story” (Shea, p.56), such that the spirit of the text has awakens our spirit, stirs our minds to see and understand, and see with the eye of the soul (Shea, p. 60). In doing so war are now considering a common human condition, rather than a specific instance of characters in a scripture story.

As I am called to work in Ministry and continue to learn how to make Christ’s story my own, I see that this transformation to having the heart of Christ is vital. If I can see with the eyes of Christ and feel with his heart, I can be his hands and feet and accept the trials that go along with it. His yoke will be easy and his burden will be light, and I can share the realization of St. Paul when he said, “It is not I who live but Christ who lives within me (Galatians 2:20).” If I am not transformed and don’t accept the heart of Christ in my ministry, I am just a body who is listening to his own mind/ego and is not connected to his eternal purpose. I don’t see Christ in the person I am serving, and my ministry becomes just a job.

In summary, from my experience, becoming a Christian is about making the Gospel stories my own, but, like grace, it’s not something I actually DO. I am just called to show up and be “present to the presence” as Brother Lawrence says. If I am able to be present and empty myself of inordinate attachments within and without, the Gospel stories can speak to me and Christ’s story becomes my story. His tears at Lazarus’ tomb become my tears, his righteous anger at the temple becomes my anger, his death on the cross becomes my death, and his rising to new life becomes my own.