Will You Follow?

Gospel

THE HOLY GOSPEL OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST

ACCORDING TO JOHN

At that time the festival of the Dedication took place in Jerusalem. It was winter, and Jesus was walking in the temple, in the portico of Solomon. So the Jews gathered around him and said to him, "How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly." Jesus answered, "I have told you, and you do not believe. The works that I do in my Father's name testify to me; but you do not believe, because you do not belong to my sheep. My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand. What my Father has given me is greater than all else, and no one can snatch it out of the Father's hand. The Father and I are one."

JOHN 10:22-30

Sermon: The Rev. Dr. Maryann Amor

My sermon begins with a piece of music—just the first few lines of the refrain from a Catholic hymn I remember from childhood. As you listen, imagine the scene.

The lyrics, the melody, the strumming of the guitar all work together to create the familiar image of Jesus as a shepherd. The word that comes to my mind is bucolic. We don’t use this word often, but it perfectly describes what this hymn is trying to evoke: something pleasant, rural, idyllic, and gentle.

While this image of Jesus—as a peaceful, pastoral shepherd—can be incredibly meaningful, especially at funerals, it’s also incomplete, particularly when we consider our reading from John’s Gospel.

Today, we heard Jesus say, “My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me.” Now, we could read this in a bucolic way: a gentle Jesus calling softly, and his lambs following him through peaceful pastures. But let’s probe this image a little deeper.

What if the sheep are comfortable…they are in green pastures, happily enjoying themselves…then the shepherd suddenly calls them to leave, to go to places they might not want to go? Rather than comfort, peace, and rest, the sheep might instead experience discomfort, resistance, and fear. Following the shepherd means leaving behind what feels safe and stepping into uncertainty.

I think we can all relate to this. We often think we know what’s best in our lives, what makes us comfortable and happy. So when the shepherd calls us to live differently, to follow a new path, it can be difficult—sometimes even feel impossible—to follow. So we resist the shepherd’s call.

But Jesus says, “My sheep know my voice, and they follow me.” Our Gospel is telling us that although we may believe we know what’s best, ultimately we are called to listen—to really listen—to the voice of the shepherd. The shepherd’s voice outweighs the sheep’s desires.

What this looks like isn’t always something huge—like changing everything because you feel Jesus is calling you to a completely different life path. More often, it’s something simple: choosing honesty when a lie would be easier, offering forgiveness when we’d rather hold a grudge, or being open to a new way of doing something when we’d much prefer that everything just stayed the same.

As Christians, we’re called to trust that Jesus, our shepherd, knows us—his sheep—intimately. He knows us by name, knows our needs, and leads us not only with care, but with purpose. His way may challenge us, but it never abandons us. As he says to us today, “I give [my sheep] eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand.” That promise gives us the courage to do the work of listening, trusting, and following.

And when following feels too difficult, what truly helps is remembering that we don’t walk alone. Jesus doesn’t call just one of us—our shepherd calls the whole flock, all of us here. The shepherd leads us together. When one sheep follows, others are encouraged to follow too. We support and protect one another along the difficult path.

Trying to go it alone is risky—on your own, it’s easy to lose your way or fall prey to danger. But in the flock, there is strength. There is safety in numbers. Being part of the flock helps train our ears to hear the shepherd’s voice and our hearts to respond, even when we’re unsure.

The shepherd image we meet today in John’s Gospel isn’t just about pastoral, bucolic sweetness—it’s about call and mission. It’s not about staying where it’s comfortable. It’s about being led—sometimes out of safety, sometimes into the unknown—because we trust the one who leads us.

Our shepherd doesn’t just soothe; he summons. And even as he summons us into hard places, he holds us. No one will snatch us from his hand. He knows the dangers ahead, and he knows the way through them. Today, he calls each of us to follow—not just when the path is clear and pleasant, but also when it’s hard, unfamiliar, or even frightening.

That’s the challenge of faith: to listen and to follow—not just when we want to, but especially when we don’t.

And now, another piece of music—a familiar one. As you listen, imagine yourself as the sheep. Not grazing peacefully, but standing at the edge of something new. Imagine hearing that voice calling to you, calling to all of us here, the entire flock, saying Will you come and follow me?