One Voice, One Shepherd, One Story

Today, on our church’s Choir Festival Day, the sermon began with a rather amusing experiment.

The congregation was asked to sing just one sound — “Ah…” — each person in whatever pitch or tone they wanted, without consulting the person sitting on their left or right.

The result? Rojak!

Everyone was singing, but there was no unity. Each person had followed his or her own pitch. Then the pastor introduced a tuning fork. He struck it, listened to the pitch, and sang his “Ah” according to that one reference note. This time, the congregation followed the same pitch. And suddenly, we were singing in unison.

It was a simple illustration, but it carried a profound spiritual truth. When everyone follows their own reference point, we can end up with many different versions. But when we listen to one true source and tune ourselves to it, there is unity. That brought us to 

Psalm 78:1–6.

The psalmist begins with these words:

“Give ear, O my people, to my teaching; incline your ears to the words of my mouth.”

There are two expressions here that caught my attention: “give ear” and “incline your ears.”

Both speak of deliberate listening. It is not merely hearing something because sound happens to reach our ears. It is choosing to listen. It is paying attention. It is bending our ears towards what is being said. Before we can tell God's story, we must first hear it ourselves. The psalmist goes on to say that what they have heard and known, what their fathers have told them, they will not hide from their children. They will tell the coming generation about the glorious deeds of the Lord.

There is a story that must be passed on. The faithfulness of God must not stop with one generation. What we have heard, experienced and learned about God is not meant to end with us. We are called to teach it to our children and to the generations that come after us.

And there is something especially beautiful about this on Choir Festival Day. Not everything that is passed from one generation to another comes through a long sermon or a written text. Sometimes, the story is carried through a song. Think about the simple hymn: “Jesus Loves Me, This I Know.”

Most of us probably learned it when we were young. We may not remember who first taught it to us, but somehow the words stayed with us. “Jesus loves me” is a simple truth, but it is profound enough to carry us through an entire lifetime. And that little song has travelled across generations, cultures and countries. Children sing it. Adults sing it. Churches around the world sing it.

The melody may sound different. The language may change. The musical arrangement may change. But the truth remains the same. Jesus loves me.

The song becomes a vessel carrying God's truth from one generation to another. And then we come to the second Scripture passage — John 10:1–6 — where Jesus speaks about the shepherd and his sheep.

Jesus says that the sheep hear the shepherd's voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them. The sheep follow him because they know his voice. They will not follow a stranger because they do not recognise the stranger's voice. Suddenly, the connection with the tuning fork becomes even clearer. Psalm 78 tells us to listen. John 10 tells us whose voice we are listening for. Jesus is the Shepherd, and His sheep know His voice.

There are so many voices around us today. There is the voice of society. The voice of culture. The voice of social media. The voice of popular opinion. The voice of our own emotions and desires. The voices of people telling us what we should believe, how we should live and what should matter. If we simply follow every voice around us, we can easily end up with spiritual “rojak.” 

Everyone has a version.

Everyone has an opinion.

Everyone is singing something different.

But Jesus says, “My sheep hear my voice.”

The answer is not simply to tell everyone to sing the same song.

The answer is to listen to the same Shepherd.

When we know His voice, we know which voice to follow. And this makes Psalm 78's call to teach the next generation even more significant. We are not merely called to pass on information about God. We are called to help the next generation know God and recognise His voice. We tell them what He has done. We teach them His Word. We share our testimonies of His faithfulness. We sing the songs that have carried our faith through the generations. We tell them the old, old story.

But ultimately, we want them to hear the Shepherd's voice for themselves. Perhaps that is one of the most important responsibilities of our generation. We cannot simply say to our children, “This is what your parents believe.” We want them to say, “I know Him. I know His voice. I have heard Him, and I choose to follow Him.”

And perhaps this is what makes a choir more than just a group of people singing beautifully together. A choir can be a storyteller. Through music, Scripture and song, a choir can proclaim God's goodness and faithfulness. A song can carry a message into the heart in a way that words alone sometimes cannot.

The generations before us sang.

They taught us.

They passed the story on.

Now it is our turn.

What will we pass on?

Will we pass on merely our traditions and our favourite songs? Or will we pass on the truth of God's faithfulness, so that the next generation will know the Shepherd whose voice we have learned to recognise? 

Today, the tuning fork gave us one pitch to follow. Psalm 78 reminds us of one story to tell. John 10 reminds us of one Shepherd whose voice we are to know. And the choir reminds us that the story can continue to be sung. Perhaps, then, the message of this Choir Festival can be summed up simply:

Hear His voice.
Know His truth.
Tell His story.
Teach the next generation.
And keep singing His song.

Because when we tune our hearts to the Shepherd's voice, we no longer have to create our own version. There is one Shepherd, one truth, one story. And it is a story worth singing from generation to generation.

by Jennifer Tan

President, Aglow International Singapore

Inspiration from today’s sermon on Choir Festival Day, 23 August 2026, at St Andrew’s Cathedral.

And I must say, our choir sang beautifully today — in perfect pitch, with impeccable timing, and with such a rich and full sound. It was truly a joy to listen to them and a wonderful complement to the message of the sermon.