“My sheep listen to My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me”
-John 10:27 (NASB)
The setting here matters more than it might seem at first glance. Jesus is in Jerusalem, at the temple, during Hanukkah — a festival celebrating a time when God provided miraculously for his people against impossible odds. It’s winter, which means shepherds weren’t out in open fields. They were sheltered with their flocks, up close, personally responsible for every animal making it through the cold season. And the people surrounding Jesus were almost certainly religious leaders, not curious seekers. They were likely trying to get him to say something they could use against him.
Jesus doesn’t take the bait directly. He doesn’t just say “yes, I’m the Messiah” and hand them what they want. Instead he tells them something more pointed. If they had been paying attention to what he’d been doing, they would already know the answer. And if they don’t recognize it, that says something about them, not about him. They don’t know his voice. Not the literal, audible voice of God, but something deeper than that,the way God moves, the way he operates, his character. You only know that through intimacy, not observation from a distance, or even from just following all the rules like some religious robot.
Then he says something that would have been absolutely striking for a person who wasn’t following Jesus to hear inside the temple walls, “I and the Father are one.” That’s not a casual statement. That’s the whole thing.
I mean, think about it. Hear were people who were very serious about following all the religious rules stringently. Jesus was saying that in spite of all of that, they really didn’t know God at all. And he wraps it in this image of a shepherd in winter — sheep sheltered, held close, completely protected. No one snatches them away. Not because the sheep are strong, but because the shepherd is.
That image affects me personally. I want to be the kind of person who knows God’s voice that well — intimately acquainted with how he works, familiar enough with his character that I recognize when he’s speaking. I feel like I’m genuinely trying to get there, especially in this season of my life. But I also know that sin does damage. It gets in the way. It’s like static on a line that used to be clear. My honest prayer is that God heals that and helps me hear him more clearly.
The practical part is pretty straightforward, even if it’s not always easy. I can’t just talk at God like I’m placing an order at a drive-thru and then pulling away. That’s not a relationship. It’s a transaction. What I actually need is real back-and-forth. I need dedicated time to sit and listen, not just speak. Then carrying that conversation through the rest of the day, moment by moment. That’s how you get to know someone’s voice. You spend time with them and listen.