A reflection on the readings for April 21, 2024 — The Fourth Sunday of Easter (also Good Shepherd Sunday and the 61st World Day of Prayer for Vocations)
My wife and I recently traveled out of state for a visit with family organized around celebrating our nephew’s Confirmation. I had been asked to be his godfather all those years ago and was delighted that he asked me to be his sponsor for the Sacrament of Confirmation.
He has been well formed in his faith and has lived it out in wonderful ways by eagerly taking part in summer work camps, attending youth conferences, and helping as a peer leader at a recent retreat for the middle schoolers who were about to begin their own Confirmation preparation. I was as confident as could be that he was ready to receive the Sacrament from his diocesan bishop.
The sixteen confirmandi were asked to arrive 90 minutes before the liturgy for a final rehearsal and, more importantly, to meet with the bishop beforehand. To say that the bishop took his duty as the shepherd of the flock seriously and lovingly would be putting it mildly. To hear my nephew tell it later, the bishop encountered these teenagers in a way that put them at ease and drew them out. Nervousness on their part gave way to engagement both ways.
This was apparent during the liturgy as well. His homily showed so much awareness of the challenges faced by young people in our world today, and he spoke beautifully to them of how the love of God and embracing the fact that each of them is unique and uniquely loved by God is the way they can meet and overcome those challenges.
In his closing remarks at the end of Mass, the bishop encouraged the newly confirmed to look to their hearts and look to the Lord as they discerned their future paths (and put in an eloquent plug for considering ordained and consecrated life). Afterward, he looked to have all the time in the world for pictures with the kids and their families and to mingle at the reception with them and all the other parishioners who came out.
In the space of just a few hours, the shepherd visiting his flock at this small rural parish had infused in them an added measure of joy and hope as the minister of the Sacraments of Confirmation and Eucharist to be sure, but in a quieter and more fundamental way, by simply being present and attentive. Mindfully, happily, present and attentive.
This fourth Sunday of Easter is referred to as Good Shepherd Sunday because the Gospel each year is focused on Jesus the Good Shepherd. The image of Jesus as the shepherd who tends to our needs and protects us is a familiar one, perhaps so much so that we risk having only a surface appreciation, going no deeper than bringing to mind a kindly, smiling Jesus and a fuzzy little lamb and leaving it at that.
But in today’s Gospel, Jesus clearly describes the stakes. Without a Good Shepherd who is willing to lay down his life for his sheep, the flock is ultimately at the mercy of the wolves, with some falling prey to the wolves and the rest being scattered, losing their identity as a flock.
As Jesus tells it, if the flock has a mere hired man playing the role of shepherd, that flock is no better off than if they’d been on their own from the start. Interested only in his wages, in what’s in it for him, the hired man isn’t going to stick around to fend off the wolves when things get difficult. This is an echo of chapter 34 of the Book of the Prophet Ezekial, where the flock is scattered, the false shepherds get their due, and God gathers back all his lost sheep.
Our default when it comes to thinking of shepherds is to look to the clergy, to our pastors and priests and deacons, to our bishops and archbishops, and that’s certainly true. Our pastors and bishops stand clearly in the role of shepherd for the flocks assigned to them. But each of us can play a role as guide, protector, and caregiver to the people in our lives as well.
In addition to being Good Shepherd Sunday, today is also the 61st World Day of Prayer for Vocations. It certainly makes sense that these two days should line up, but we’re encouraged not to limit our understanding of shepherds to the clergy, nor to limit our sense of a vocation as only in ordained and consecrated life. Each of us through our Baptism has been joined to Jesus Christ and assumed his mantle of priest, prophet, and king.
Pope Francis underscores this shared mission in the opening of his message to the faithful for this day of prayer for vocations:
Each year, the World Day of Prayer for Vocations invites us to reflect on the precious gift of the Lord’s call to each of us, as members of his faithful pilgrim people, to participate in his loving plan and to embody the beauty of the Gospel in different states of life. Hearing that divine call, which is far from being an imposed duty – even in the name of a religious ideal – is the surest way for us to fulfil our deepest desire for happiness. Our life finds fulfilment when we discover who we are, what our gifts are, where we can make them bear fruit, and what path we can follow in order to become signs and instruments of love, generous acceptance, beauty and peace, wherever we find ourselves.
If a shepherd is indeed a guide, protector, and caregiver, then we all share a vocation to be shepherds. Thinking back to that evening sitting in the pew behind my nephew, this call was on full display. Yes, there was the bishop with his crozier, the shepherd’s staff that is the sign of his authority, and the parish’s pastor by his side in the fullness of his role as shepherd to the local flock entrusted to him by the bishop.
But right in front of me was a young man who would not be there were it not for the daily shepherding of his mom and dad; were it not for the evangelical dedication of the Faith Formation director sitting over there on the side; were it not for the catechist sitting beside me as a fellow sponsor; and were it not for the quiet but constant witness of the surrounding parishioners who faithfully give as they are able from their time, talent, and treasure.
This is the Body of Christ – His Church on Earth. This is us – we are the Church. It’s no accident that the first reading that evening was from 1st Corinthians, where we’re reminded “As a body is one though it has many parts, and all the parts of the body, though many, are one body, so also Christ.”
As I write this, I’m coming off a morning at my own parish where I had the privilege of helping with the retreat for our second graders and their parents as they prepare for First Communion. There, on full display, was another example of what we’re considering here. An opening Mass followed by a words of encouragement from our pastor. Notes about logistics from our First Sacraments coordinator. The parents and Faith Formation director engaging while the children rehearsed in the church. Rotating activities led by volunteer parishioners. Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament in the church.
Many parts, one body. And best of all, this work is not limited to a sacramental or liturgical context – it takes place at every moment when we can be that helper, guide, or caregiver to someone we encounter. This is the work of the Body of Christ.
As Catholic Christians, we can receive the fullness of the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity, of Jesus in the Eucharist. For our part, let us offer him the fullness of ourselves as disciples and coworkers of the Good Shepherd.
Image: AI generated.
Deacon Steve O’Neill was ordained for service to the Archdiocese of Washington in June 2013 and serves at St. Andrew Apostle in suburban Maryland. After four years in the Marine Corps and three years at the University of Maryland (where met Traci, now his wife of 30+ years, and earned a degree in English), he has worked as an analyst with the Federal government. Deacon Steve and Traci have two sons and two daughters and three grandchildren.
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