Good morning. This feels, to me, like a reunion, a homecoming, and I can’t even begin to tell you how excited I am to be here. Like any reunion I am curious about what has been going on with you, and I imagine some of you might be curious about what I have been up to. So let me fill you in a little bit on my journey since I left here about eighteen months ago.

I am currently working as a priest and chaplain at St. Margaret’s of Scotland Episcopal Church and School in San Juan Capistrano. We are a fairly large school, as Episcopal schools go, with over twelve hundred kids from preschool through high school. I teach World Religions in the Upper School and something called Human Development in the middle school. That’s all about expanding the children’s ideas about God and teaching them how to get along better with each other and how to go about making ethical decisions. In addition to these duties I officiate at chapels for all ages during the week, from preschool through high school. I also am the advisor to 12 sixth graders, whom I see twice a week. I will tell you that I enjoy my time with all of the kids immensely. On Sundays I have both church and youth group duties, depending on which Sunday it is. Rather than boring you to death with the details I will just say that my ministry is a fulfilling and challenging opportunity for me.

&#As much as I am enjoying the changes in my life I will also tell you that I have become ever more aware that I am equally appreciative of the things in my life that don’t change. I have become quite sure, that the things that don’t change, whether in reality or in my memory, those special people and places in our lives we call "home", are more important to us than the excitement we find in exploring new places and venturing out where we have never been before. I wonder if we don’t need those special places in order to have the strength and compass to take on the new opportunities we are presented with. This church, The Episcopal Church of the Messiah, for me, is one of those places, one of those places that define who I am and keeps my compass in working order so that I do not lose my way.

These days when I come here I first experience the downtown area in which this church sits, as I drive up. I love this area, teaming with life and diversity. It almost feels like the air I am breathing is somehow more alive and vital in my lungs. And then I see the church, the redness of it, the shape, the roof, and I can almost feel it beckon to me, telling me to come on in, I am almost home.

It really doesn’t matter how I get inside, through the stairs by the office, or up the stairs in the back and into the narthex. I can feel God’s presence the moment I am inside. I am instantly aware of the sense of history that exists within the walls of this building. I am drawn by the stained glass windows, the pews, the shape of the ceiling, the columns, and the wood. There is a smell I find no other place, and a coziness I have found only in one other spot in my life, of which I will mention in a few minutes. I even love the creak of the place as I walk down the aisles. I have a history here. I have friends here. I have memories here. This is my spiritual home no matter where I happen to be currently attending church.

When I look out at you I see the faces of my friends, brothers and sisters in Christ, committed to the same causes, followers of the same Jesus. We have crossed many mountains together and we share a fellowship built on real ministry here in this city. I am so happy to be here my heart almost overflows and my emotions run rampant within me.

The only place that invokes these same feelings is my maternal grandparent’s farm in Oklahoma where I spent so many glorious summers and Christmases as I was growing up. I can still see in my mind’s eye that little house on the eighty acre farm in Oklahoma, with the dirt road out front; and I can still feel all the love reaching out to me from inside. I can see my grandfather waving to me from the front porch, the Christmas tree in the window, and once more I know that I am home, I am safe, in the arms of people that love me.

That is how I feel right now, this very minute, home once more, in the company of my friends.

If we will think about it that is one of the beauties of the Episcopal liturgy. Week after week the sameness of our liturgy allows us to relax. We know what to expect. We have been here before. We are comfortable. We can rest in God’s arms, in the company of other worshipers, and recharge for the week ahead.

It seems in life we are often looking for the new and different. We celebrate the changes in life. We celebrate the new paradigms as they emerge. I suppose that is as it should be, but I also think that the things that remain the same, special people and places, need to be remembered just as often and celebrated just as strongly. For I feel it is in these moments that we know that we are loved and we are safe.

So today I probably have nothing new for you. Today is not the day we will venture into new and uncharted territory. Instead let’s spend some time together talking about the things that make being a Christian special. Let’s talk about the metaphors Jesus gives us in today’s gospel. Let’s remember again the comfortable image of the shepherd and the sheep, the sheepfold, the relationship between the shepherd and his flock, and the love we are assured of between God and ourselves. Let’s talk and think about our relationships with God, and feel the warmth that comes from being home with the ones we love so very much.

The Gospel of John, from which our gospel passage springs, is very much unlike the other three gospels, and one of the things that makes it different is its’ complete lack of parables. There just aren’t any. Today’s gospel passage is as close as John gets to actually quoting a parable of Jesus. Ok fine – I just told you something you might not have known. I apologize and I will do my best not to do let it happen again this morning. Anyway, let’s look at the overall passage from which our reading this morning emerges.

Jesus is using one of his most commonly employed symbols in this passage. Jesus uses the metaphor of sheep and the shepherd, something he does all the time to explain an important concept.

Jesus starts out by talking about a sheepfold. I imagine most of you know what a sheepfold is. But, for the benefit of those that don’t it is an enclosure, perhaps made with a stone fence, where a shepherd can take his flock for safety, often during the night, protecting them from the danger of wild animals and thieves. There might even be the herds of many shepherds mixed together in the sheepfold. Imagine it. All the herds are mixed together into a blur of, what to us, would be a seemingly endless amalgamation of the sameness of sheep.

Something we must remember is that at that time there was no physical way to identify an individual sheep. There certainly was no branding of sheep. There was no physical way to tell one flock from another. Only the relationship between the individual shepherd and the sheep could b e used to identify the herd. The outsider might know how many sheep are in the herd, but they would never be able to sort them out.

When it came time for a herd to leave the sheepfold it was up to the shepherd to lead them out. He knew his sheep, and his sheep knew his voice. His herd would follow him out because they knew him. No amount of cajoling or shouting from anybody else could get them to leave; only the shepherd could lead them. They knew the shepherd and the shepherd knew them. He was the only person they would follow.

We are in relationships like, maybe more than we have thought about. When my mom calls me on the phone she doesn’t have to identify herself. I know immediately it is my mom, and vice versa when I call her, she knows me instantly as well. "Hi Bill. How are you? What have you been up to?" I have that same relationship with all my children, my wife, and a few of my friends. We know each other instantaneously, just by the sound of our voices. I am sure you have that same relationship with other people just like I do. You just know instantly, just through the sound of other person’s voices, who they are. This is a familiarity that is hard to explain, but we all are aware of it, and we all participate in it. This is the familiarity that Jesus is talking about having with us too. He is the shepherd and we are the sheep. He knows us and we know his voice.

Look, I know this is not new news for any of you, but in the complicated lives we lead it is good sometimes to touch base with the basics of our faith, and to remind ourselves about this magnificent gift from a God that knows us so well, and with whom the line of communication is always open. If I am having a great day I know I can pick up the phone to God and before I even have to identify myself I can hear God saying," hey Bill good to hear from you. I see you’re having a great day. I sure am happy for you."

Or maybe instead, on not such a great day I can call up and once again hear the voice of God telling me God understands, and is right in there with me, thumb in the air, telling me how much I am loved, just because I exist, and that things are going to be ok.

And even better I know that when I am lost God is out there looking for me, calling my name, and I know that eventually God will find me again and bring me home.

God is always there. The phone line is always open. We can always go home and we can always call home. That for me is the message in the gospel today, a simple one, but one we can rest in to recharge ourselves and get back into the fray of living every day.

I am so thankful to be here today. I am home among my friends, in one of the most important places on the planet for me, The Episcopal Church of the Messiah, God’s lighthouse to the city. God bless each and every one of you. I love you all.