Sunday, May 3, 2020

The Fourth Sunday of Easter (Year A)

THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD 
The Fourth Sunday of Easter (Year A) 
Acts 2” 14A; 36-41; 1Peter 2: 20B-25; John 10: 1-10 

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. 
Only goodness and kindness follow me 
all the days of my life; 
and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD 
for years to come. 

The LORD is my shepherd . . . And He is a Good Shepherd. 

He gathers us in; He guides our way; He protects us. He came so that we might have life and have it more abundantly. He came to make human life better by revealing life's meaning and purpose; by offering us a personal relationship with God; by connecting us to each other – brother and sister, neighbor and stranger - to all who are part of the flock he tends; by allowing us to move beyond our past failings and to start again; by touching our heart and our soul in the liturgy; by being our constant companion in life's journey; and by offering us hope beyond the grave. 

He is the Good Shepherd and when we stray, He searches for us. And when He finds us, He gently picks us up and tenderly carries us on his shoulders back to safety. He is the Good Shepherd and we know His voice. There’s no mistaking it. It is the voice of goodness and love, of compassion and service, of mercy. 

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. 
Even though I walk in the dark valley 
I fear no evil; for He is at my side. 
With His rod and His staff 
that give me courage. 

The LORD is my Shepherd . . . and my Sheepgate. 

Most of us think that when Jesus identifies Himself as the “sheepgate” he’s saying that it’s only through Him that we pass through from this earthly existence to eternal life. That His life, His teaching, His example, His death and resurrection have become the gateway, the doorway, the portal to salvation that has now become open to us. And yes, Jesus did mean that. But he meant so much more. 

A sheepfold in Jesus’ time was a large enclosure sometimes made of a roughly circular stone wall, sometimes of thorn bushes, planted to hedge in a pen where the sheep stayed at night. But rather than a gate, there would be a simple opening in the wall or hedge through which the sheep would be herded to safety. And once the sheep were in the sheepfold for the night, the shepherd would lie down on the ground, stretching across the opening. This shepherd literally makes himself into a barrier gate, a role that requires, not only care, but courage. If any marauders or predators are to get to the sheep, they will only do so over the dead body of the shepherd. 

Jesus is the Good Shepherd - He lives for his flock . . . He dies for his flock. Can we be lost or destroyed? Only over the Lord’s dead body. Through the laying down of his life on the cross and his rising before us, we are led into the sheepfold of eternal life. 

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. 
In verdant pastures he gives me repose; 
beside restful waters he leads me; 
he refreshes my soul. 

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want . . . but . . . I do . . . I want . . . And probably you do too. 

Perhaps what you want is a thing: something physical, something you want to have, to own; or perhaps it’s a person, a relationship you want to have or one you want to deepen, or mend, or end; or perhaps it’s something you want for someone else: healing of an illness, peace in a troubled family, a job for someone unemployed; or perhaps it’s something emotional: maybe you’re praying for some peace of mind, some serenity, some contentment. 

But if the Lord is my shepherd – then I should want for nothing. If the Lord is my shepherd - then I have all I truly need. If you’re like me, you might find that hard to grasp, not easy to accept. Even as I say the words “I shall not want” I think of all the things for which I do want, things I want for myself, things I want for others – good things – not selfish, frivolous things, but important things. And our experience tells us that the Lord, as Good a Shepherd as he is, does not supply us with everything we want. But he does supply us with everything we truly need. Listen to all that our Good Shepherd promises to give us in today’s gospel: 
  • Jesus, the Good Shepherd, pledges his voice, his word, for our hearing. And we hear the Shepherd’s voice in the scriptures, in prayer, in our hearts and in our minds, in our conscience. His voice is always there to be heard, to be followed - though whether we hear and follow where his voice leads - is up to us. 
  • And the Good Shepherd promises to know us. And no one knows me better, no one knows you better, than Jesus, the Shepherd of us all. He knows us better than we know ourselves. He knows us inside out – and still loves us. He knows everything we do, everything we think of doing and everything we’ve failed to do – and still forgives us. He knows the secrets of our heart and all its desires but still gives us, time after time, opportunities to improve on our mistakes, to try again, to begin again, to win again his favor and his love. 
  • And Jesus, the Good Shepherd, promises us eternal life. And in light of that promise, anything else we think we need to be happy pales in comparison. The problem comes whenever I begin to think that what I believe I need to be happy is greater, more important or more compelling, than the promise of the gift of life forever. 
  • And finally, Jesus, the Good Shepherd, promises us that no one and nothing can snatch us from his hand. Not even death can snatch us from the Shepherd’s hand: we are always and ever held in the palm of the Lord’s saving hand. 
Now, all of that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t pray for all the good and gracious things that we want or need. It only means that the happiness, the serenity, the contentment that any of those things might bring us is little, indeed, in light of all that Jesus, the Good Shepherd promises to us, the sheep of his flock. 

The Lord is my shepherd, there is nothing I shall want. 
Jesus, my Good Shepherd, 
I trust in you alone 
for your endless mercy follows me, 
your goodness will lead me home.


Video Version on this Homily