Listen for the Shepherd’s Voice

The Daily Office Readings for Monday, September 7, 2026: Psalm 41, 52, 44; Job 32:1-10, 19, 33:1, 19-28; Acts 13:44-52; and John 10:19-30.

The world is filled with voices.

Some voices encourage us. Some accuse us. Some tell us they know exactly what God is doing. Some are so convinced they are right that they are willing to condemn anyone who disagrees with them.

The Daily Office readings today remind me how difficult it can be to hear the voice of God when everybody else is talking.

In Psalm 41, David is hurting. He admits that he has sinned and asks God for mercy and healing. His enemies are tormenting him, and even someone he considered a close friend has turned against him.

David cries:

“Lord, have mercy on me and make me well again.”

Yet David ends where he so often ends. His circumstances haven’t necessarily changed, but he remembers who God is. God remains from everlasting to everlasting.

Psalm 44 takes us somewhere even more difficult.

The descendants of Korah remember the stories their ancestors told them about the wonderful things God had done. But their present experience doesn’t match those stories.

They feel abandoned.

Their enemies have defeated them. Their neighbors mock them. And what makes their lament especially troubling is that they insist they have not forgotten God.

So they cry out:

Wake up! Why are you sleeping? Rise up and help us!

I love the honesty of the Psalms.

Faith doesn’t always say, “Everything is wonderful.”

Sometimes faith says, “God, where are you?”

And the remarkable thing is that they are still talking to God. Their lament itself is an act of faith.

Psalm 52 gives us yet another voice. David is responding to Doeg the Edomite, whose actions against David and Ahimelech had terrible consequences. David tells Doeg that destruction and deceit will not last forever.

Then David describes himself with a beautiful image:

“I am like a green olive tree in the house of God. I trust in the unfailing love of God forever and ever.”

There are voices of betrayal, mockery, accusation, and destruction all around him.

But David chooses where he will plant himself.

Then we come to Job.

Job has already listened to three friends explain why he is suffering. Now Elihu enters the conversation. He is angry with Job because Job refuses to admit that his suffering is God’s punishment for his sin. He is also angry with Job’s friends because they haven’t been able to prove their case.

Elihu has listened long enough.

Now he is ready to talk.

In essence, Elihu tells Job, “You are wrong, and I will tell you why.”

That sounds strangely familiar.

Human beings have always been pretty good at explaining other people’s suffering.

Sometimes we suffer because of our own choices. Sometimes we suffer because of choices other people make. Sometimes suffering comes simply because we live in a world where things happen that nobody controls.

And sometimes we simply don’t know why.

Yet we are often uncomfortable saying, “I don’t know.”

Then Acts 13 shows us what can happen when religious certainty mixes with jealousy.

Paul’s preaching at Antioch had been so well received that almost the entire city gathered to hear him. Some of the Jewish leaders became jealous when they saw the crowds. They began contradicting Paul and slandering him.

Paul and Barnabas announced that since their message was being rejected, they would take the Good News to the Gentiles.

Eventually their opponents stirred up enough trouble that Paul and Barnabas were driven from the region.

Reading this reminded me of my own Free Will Baptist heritage.

The Free Will Baptist movement in America developed in two places. Paul Palmer led the movement in the South, beginning in North Carolina before the Revolutionary War, while Benjamin Randall became the leader of the movement that developed in New England.

I remember reading from an early journal connected with Randall’s ministry about the opposition these early Free Will Baptists encountered from Calvinists who considered their Arminian theology heresy.

On one occasion, Randall was traveling to preach when a group confronted him with tar and feathers and threatened him with bodily harm because of what he taught.

Think about that.

People who claimed to follow Jesus were prepared to hurt another follower of Jesus because they disagreed about theology.

We may not normally stand beside the road with tar and feathers today, but we haven’t completely overcome the temptation.

We still label.

We still condemn.

We still decide who is acceptable and who isn’t.

We still sometimes treat theological disagreement as though the person across from us is an enemy rather than another human being whom Jesus told us to love.

And then we come to John 10.

Jesus has just proclaimed that he is the Good Shepherd and the gate for the sheep.

And immediately people begin arguing about him.

Some say he is demon-possessed and out of his mind.

Others say, “These don’t sound like the words of someone possessed by a demon. Can a demon open the eyes of the blind?”

Same Jesus.

Same words.

Same works.

Different conclusions.

Later, during Hanukkah in Jerusalem, people surround Jesus and demand an answer.

“How long are you going to keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly.”

Jesus points them toward what he has been doing.

Look at the works.

They testify to who I am.

And then Jesus says the words that bring all these readings together for me:

“My sheep listen to my voice. I know them, and they follow me.”

Maybe that’s what I need to remember.

The world is filled with voices.

The voice telling me why someone else is suffering.

The voice insisting that everyone who disagrees with me must be wrong.

The voice condemning someone because their theology is different from mine.

The voice telling me whom God accepts and whom God rejects.

The voices of fear, jealousy, anger, pride, religion, politics, culture—and sometimes the voice inside my own head.

And through all that noise, Jesus says:

My sheep listen to my voice.

Notice what Jesus doesn’t say.

He doesn’t say his sheep understand everything.

He doesn’t say they never suffer.

He doesn’t say they never have questions.

He doesn’t even say they always agree with one another.

He says they listen.

That takes me back to Psalm 44.

Those people felt abandoned by God. Their circumstances seemed to tell them that God had forgotten them.

But Jesus says something remarkable:

“No one can snatch them out of my hand.”

Sometimes I may feel abandoned.

Sometimes I may not understand what God is doing.

Sometimes other people may decide that I don’t belong.

Sometimes religion itself may tell me I don’t belong.

But the Good Shepherd says:

I know my sheep.

That is enough for this Curious Pilgrim.

Maybe following Jesus isn’t about having every theological question answered.

Maybe it isn’t about winning every argument.

Maybe it isn’t about proving everybody else wrong.

Maybe it is learning, day after day, to recognize the Shepherd’s voice amid all the other voices competing for my attention.

And perhaps I can recognize that voice partly by looking at what it produces.

Does the voice I am following produce love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control?

Or does it produce fear, jealousy, anger, condemnation, and the desire to destroy someone who disagrees with me?

Jesus said:

“My sheep listen to my voice. I know them, and they follow me.”

So today my prayer is simple.

Good Shepherd,
there are so many voices around me
and sometimes so many voices within me.
Teach me to recognize yours.
When I don’t understand, help me listen.
When I am hurting, help me listen.
When others condemn me, help me listen.
When I am tempted to condemn someone else, help me listen.
Quiet the voices of fear, pride, anger, and certainty that keep me from hearing you.
Let your Spirit produce within me love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.
Keep me planted like that green olive tree, trusting in your unfailing love.
And wherever this pilgrimage takes me, help me follow the voice of the Good Shepherd.
Amen.

“My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me.” — John 10:27