The Dumb Shepherd?
April 24, 2024
Fr. John Riccardo
Jesus said: "I am the good shepherd. A good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. A hired man, who is not a shepherd and whose sheep are not his own, sees a wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away, and the wolf catches and scatters them. This is because he works for pay and has no concern for the sheep.
I am the good shepherd, and I know mine and mine know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I will lay down my life for the sheep.
I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. These also I must lead, and they will hear my voice, and there will be one flock, one shepherd. This is why the Father loves me, because I lay down my life in order to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down on my own. I have power to lay it down, and power to take it up again. This command I have received from my Father”
John 10:11-18
Usually, this weekly blog is about the 2nd Reading for the upcoming Sunday at Mass. However, I can’t stop thinking and praying about the Gospel from last Sunday, and so I wanted to pass on what the Lord has been sharing with me in prayer in the hope that it might be helpful and timely for perhaps one other person out there.
Sometimes, Jesus says things that we think we understand when in fact they’re supposed to be jarring to our ears. For example, He says, “What man of you, having a hundred sheep, if he has lost one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the open country, and go after the one that is lost, until he finds it?” (Luke 15:4). Answer? Nobody! No shepherd does something like this; it would be foolish. The ninety-nine other sheep would stray while the shepherd is gone, or be defenseless against predators, and so the shepherd would end up losing all of his flock.
The Gospel from last week is another one of those things Jesus says that should jar us but probably doesn’t. “A good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” Really?! This is ridiculous. While we may appreciate the bravery of the shepherd, it is in fact stupid, irrational and reckless. At best this shepherd is some sort of hopeless romantic.
Remember: sheep are absolutely defenseless creatures. They don’t have claws; they don’t have fangs; they’re not fast; they don’t have horns that can ward off wolves. The only single protection they have is the shepherd. If, then, the shepherd loses his life, the sheep are left entirely defenseless and devoured. The shepherd’s seemingly brave act will be revealed to be foolish and in vain. This parable should be called the parable of the dumb shepherd. Unless the shepherd is more than a shepherd. Unless he can die but somehow, in the process, not only defeat Death but defeat “the wolf.”
What do Jesus’ words reveal to us about God? After all, this is all a revelation of the Father, whom the Son has come to make known (cf. Jn 1:18). What does it say about us – especially those of us who are living in an increasingly hopeless culture, suffering from fear, anxiety and a massive crisis of identity?
Again and again the shocking revelation at the core of the gospel is the truth that for some reason you and I are worth dying for. To God! God sees you. You matter to Him. God thinks you’re worth “leaving the ninety-nine” (i.e., the angels) and embarking on the most extraordinary rescue mission ever (rescue from Death and from Satan) in order to bring you home.
Jesus tells another parable in Luke 15, one that is likewise overly familiar to almost all of us: the prodigal son. The parable really isn’t about the son (s). It’s about the father of the sons, that is, it’s about God. Jesus is revealing to us that God is not like a father. Rather, God is this Father. You might recall that after the younger son squandered all of his property and found himself in abject poverty and utterly humiliated, he “came to his senses” and decided to return home. He knew he had offended his father in a most cruel way, since he told him he wished he were dead already so that he could enjoy his inheritance. He also had utterly offended the village from which he came, for that’s how things worked (and work still) in Middle Eastern villages where the individualism that so marks American culture does not exist. On his way back to the father’s house, he prepared a speech. The speech went like this: “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I no longer deserve to be called your son. Treat me like one of your servants.” In other words, he knew he had blown it beyond belief, and could no longer be a son to his father, but he was hoping he could at least live with the servants and no longer be at risk of starving to death.
When he finally got near the house, Jesus tells us, “His father caught sight of him and ran.” This, again, probably doesn’t startle us but it should. Such things do not happen in the Middle East. Men don’t run. Children run. Poor people run. Slaves run. Wealthy, dignified, important men, don’t run. It’s beneath them. This father – our Father – Jesus tells us, runs the moment we make a move for home! But it gets better. The son is embraced by his father – an absolutely shocking gesture that not only is an expression of his affection but is a source of protection for the son. The townspeople, the moment they got wind of the news the rebel had returned, would all have gathered and formed something of a gauntlet. The scoundrel daring to return would then have to walk through them. As he did so, nasty words would be said, stones would be hurled, fists would be thrown, and more. But by embracing his son, the father, in effect, said to the townspeople, “If you want to hurt him you have to hurt me.” Of course, the town will do no such thing.
Finally, the son starts his prepared remarks. “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I no longer deserve to be called your son.” And then he stops. No words about being treated as one of the servants. Why? It’s often thought that the father interrupts him, but that’s not what happens. Instead, as one commentator says, the son is “shattered” by this incredible display of love the father has shown – the running; the warm, protective embrace; the ring; the shoes. He had thought he knew his father, but it turns out he never really did. Now, nothing will ever be the same for him again.
As we continue these amazing days of Easter, pondering the death and resurrection of the good – the noble, the brave – Shepherd, let us ask the Holy Spirit who dwells within us to “shatter” us with a fresh revelation of the Father’s love. Let us ask Him to stir up an eagerness to joyfully share with those around us who are hurting who their Father is. And let us ask Him to give us an ever greater desire to be loyal to Him in all our thoughts, words and actions.
ACTS XXIX Prayer Intentions
April 2024
For the clergy and lay leaders who will be joining us on campus for a Leadership Immersive.
For our Board of Directors meeting.
For our Episcopal Advisory Committee, Board members, benefactors and prayer partners.
For our Rescue Vancouver LIVE Revival planning.
For all those bringing The Rescue Project to their homes and parishes around the world.
For God’s protection upon Fr. John Riccardo, our team and our families.