4th Sunday of Easter (Good Shepherd Sunday)

            In today’s gospel, we hear Jesus talk about his role as a shepherd, not of sheep but of his faithful followers. For this reason, the Church has traditionally named this Sunday, “Good Shepherd Sunday.” For many generations of Christians, this image of the good shepherd has brought great comfort and consolation. But for those of us who are urban dwellers, and I assume that is most of us, we might not appreciate the full power of this pastoral image until we understand the role of the shepherd in the ancient world, during the time of Jesus.

In the Middle-East, when Jesus was preaching, shepherding was quite different than it is now. Most shepherds who tended their sheep kept them for many, many years for the wool they produced and did not slaughter them for meat. Shepherds led their animals - they did not drive them from behind, and they stayed with their flock both by day and by night, often putting them in a cave at night and blocking the entrance from hungry predators and thieves using their very own body. A shepherd also had a staff with hook on one end which he used for two reasons: to protect the sheep from wild animals and retrieve them from dangerous situations by putting that hook around the animal's body and dragging it to safety. The shepherd went ahead of his sheep to find safe, nourishing places of pasture and every waking hour was spent caring for them.

Because they kept their animals for many years, they came to know them very well and the sheep in turn knew and trusted them. As a matter of fact, most shepherds would name their sheep and all shepherds had a certain call or song the sheep knew. This call or song was the crucial bond between sheep and shepherd; Oftentimes, because places of pasture and shelter could be scarce and hard to find, several flocks might mix together while feeding or sleeping for the night. However, when it was time to sort out the sheep, one of the shepherds would stand some distance away from the group and make the particular call, which his sheep knew. As the sheep of his flock heard him, they would run to him, leaving behind the other shepherd with his sheep who refused to come to the first shepherd because they did not know his voice.

This then was the relationship that existed between sheep and shepherd. The shepherd was devoted entirely to the care, comfort, and protection of his sheep and the sheep were completely obedient to shepherd trusting in him for all of their needs. With this background information, we begin to truly appreciate the power of Jesus’ statement when he states: “I am the good shepherd, 
 and I know mine and mine know me. 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.”

 These wonderful, beautiful words spoken by our Lord should give us great comfort. We need to remember that God, like a shepherd, helps his sheep; he helps us. There is nothing we need to do to deserve that help. Because of Christ’s immeasurable love, it is always there for us. It was won for us on the cross of Jesus, and secured for us forever by his resurrection.

Like a good shepherd, God watches over and protects his flock. When we cry out, he comes to us, when we search for him, he is there to assist us, and when we are in danger, he is there to protect us. But the most marvelous thing of all is this: when we wander off and stray away from him, he seeks us out and calls us back to him. Through the Eucharist and the other sacraments he continues to nourishes and bring us back to the safety and the comfort of his fold.

It is so easy to get lost in our world, to run around doing all the things that must be done, losing track of where we are, and where we should be. It is so easy to be busy, that we get tired, discouraged, and find ourselves hungering for peace, but not knowing how we can find it. It is so easy to stray from the Lord’s voice and end up in need of help. Far too often you and I spend too much time wandering around, unaware that we are lost, hungry, and without the Shepherd. When we finally realize our need for his helping hand, when we realize that we cannot see the shepherd, and we cannot see the other members of our fold, then we need to call out to him. We know the good shepherd is looking out for us at all times, and when he hears our cry for help he will find us in our hour of need.

It is so important for us to allow ourselves time to be still. Stop doing things for a moment. Stop and listen for that comforting and life-giving voice of our divine shepherd. He will lead us to a place of peace, spiritual nourishment, and life, where our souls can be refreshed. This beautiful church is such a place. God has led you here today, and here at this Mass there is food for your journey, here there is water to refresh your soul, here you will find what your soul needs: a time of rest, a time of strengthening, a time of healing, in the presence of the Lord and his people.

Now I know this is a very busy time for all of us: this is the season of weddings, graduations, confirmations, ordinations, installations, first communions, exams, baseball, and so many other things. Yes, it is a busy time for many of us, and much, if not all, of what we are doing needs to be done. But these times of activity will not drain or discourage us if we stay close to Christ, our good shepherd, and remember that he is here to comfort, nourish, and restore our souls.

As we prepare to enter into the liturgy of the Eucharist, pause for a moment, close your eyes, and sense his presence in this place...Take comfort in knowing that God knows where you are and will answer your call... He knows each one of us by name and is ready to give us all we need...Jesus is the good shepherd, who lays down his life for us; there is nothing that you and I shall want if we follow him and trust in his care.

3rd Sunday of Easter

"Peace be with you." These four words were spoken by Jesus as he appeared to his apostles and followers after the resurrection. As today's gospel tells us, when they first saw Jesus they were afraid; they thought he was a ghost. So he tells them, "Peace be with you." I love these comforting words that Christ utters but they are somewhat surprising. Surprising because it seems like he should have scolded the apostles for abandoning him in his hour of need. It would have made a lot more sense for Jesus to take them to task for forgetting everything he had taught them. To reprimand them for their fear and unbelief which led them to hide in a locked room somewhere in Jerusalem. That would have made sense and I am pretty sure that is what I would have done if I were in the Lord's shoes. But instead he says "Peace be with you."

            Growing up, as the oldest of fourteen children, I learned to value peace a great deal. The reason of course, was that it was a rare commodity. Having ten girls and four boys in a small, crowded house meant there was no shortage of conflict between siblings. Peace was something that my parents, and even us kids really enjoyed, even if it was rare. Peace meant that everything was in order, that everyone was behaving respectfully, and that people's priorities were in order.

            Without a doubt, Jesus' favorite word after his resurrection is "peace." It is almost always the first word on his lips when he appears to his apostles. But this divine peace was not just meant for the apostles and friends who Jesus visited after his resurrection. No. Jesus wants all of us to experience peace. Today at this Mass and at each Mass that is celebrated, we hear these same words, spoken to us in the here-and-now of our lives. Right before we receive the Eucharist the I will say: "Lord Jesus Christ, you said to your apostles: I leave you peace, my peace I give you.” Christ's peace is the antidote to most problems of modern society: stress, discouragement, anger, competition, and anxiety. We have all been affected by these problems. As our friendship with the resurrected Lord grows deeper, we are gradually healed of those problems, because he brings us his three-fold peace.

            First, peace for our mind. When we look at his wounds, which he still bears in his glorified body, we know that his forgiveness is everlasting; once he forgives our sins, we are truly forgiven; our conscience can be at rest. Second, peace for our heart. When we see the spike marks in his hands and feet, we know that we are loved with an undying, unconditional, personal, determined love - Christ's love. Third, peace for our soul. Christ is alive, and he is ruling and expanding an everlasting Kingdom, and he has invited each one of us to help him by building up the Church. We have work to do that matters. We have work to do that is worthwhile and will satisfy our thirst for a meaningful life. The peace of the resurrected Christ is what we really need in our lives.

           We all want to experience this peace more deeply - peace of mind, peace of heart, and peace of soul. Christ wants the same thing for us - that's why he suffered, died, and rose from the dead. But if peace is what we want, why do we still find ourselves so easily overrun by stress, discouragement, anger, competition, and anxiety? Many obstacles can block the flow of Christ's peace in our lives; the most obvious obstacle is sin. Sometimes we fall into sin out of weakness. Those falls are easy to confess and repent of. But other times we allow subtle habits of sin to take root in our lives. For example, we refuse to accept some part of Church teaching on faith or morals - like Christ's real presence in the Eucharist, abortion, or artificial contraception. Sure, we find plenty of reasons to justify this resistance - all the arguments we hear on the news or prevailing popular opinion. But in reality, to reject official Church teaching on these issues and others is to reject Christ's saving truth. Subtle habits of sin can also take other forms; like slacking off in our personal responsibilities - doing just enough to get by, but not really giving our best; or wasting inordinate amounts of time on hobbies, entertainment, or gossip.

But I believe, in our day, one of the greatest dangers to our souls is our mouth. St John reminds us in today's Second Reading that unless we are following Christ's commandments, God's truth cannot take root in our souls. And Christ's main commandment was that we love our neighbors as ourselves. Far too often we break that commandment with our words. Our mass media culture encourages us to be careless with what we say - whether face to face, with cell phones, or through email, texting, or tweeting. Since our newscasters and bloggers spend much of their time judging and criticizing people, our popular culture has come to accept that as normal.

            But while this behavior may be normal in our society, it is not acceptable for those who call themselves Christians. We are called to love our neighbors as ourselves, and our neighbors include politicians, clergy, movie stars, relatives or the person one office over. And that means we should not go around talking carelessly about their struggles, failings, faults, and sins. We certainly wouldn't want someone to do that to us! As Christians, we are called to a higher standard.

            We all desire peace; in our hearts, in our homes, and in our world. Even though the goal of promoting and attaining peace on earth may seem impossible in today's society, it is not beyond the power of God's grace. We must pray for this grace and make use of it to fix ourselves first. Each and every one of us in Church today must work to eliminate sin and hypocrisy from our own lives so that we can experience that same peace offered to the apostles by the risen Christ.  Once we have felt that peace and lived it, then we can share it with others. Unlock those parts of your hearts that are closed to Christ through sin and indifference and allow yourself to hear those beautiful words of the gospel today, "Peace be with you."

Easter Sunday

I saw a short movie this weekend which was produced in the Czech Republic. It is called “Most”, which means bridge in Czech and is based on the true story of John Griffith, a young man in his prime during the 1920’s. He was newly married and full of optimism. Along with his lovely wife, he had been blessed with a beautiful baby. He was living the American dream. But then came 1929—the Great Depression, which devastated the American economy and John’s ambitions. In order to care for his young family, he was forced take a low-paying job operating one of the massive railroad bridges spanning the Mississippi River.

Each day, John would sit at the controls of the drawbridge and make sure the bridge was raised for river traffic, like barges and steamboats. He would lower bridge for the many trains that would cross on their exact schedules, carrying freight and passengers. This sort of monotonous job would have been meaningless and unfulfilling if it wasn’t serving a greater purpose.

This greater purpose was providing for John’s family, especially his eight year-old son, Greg. The pain of the Great Depression was slowly starting to fade and now the hope of a new life, a life in which his young son, would someday work alongside him, was something that helped him make it through the boredom of his work. One day, John invited his son to spend a day with him, working on the bridge. Greg looked on in wide-eyed amazement as his Dad pressed down the huge lever that raised and lowered the vast bridge. He marveled that his Dad could so easily control the movements of such an incredible structure.

Before they knew it, it was time for lunch. They crossed over the catwalks onto the observation deck of the bridge and ate lunch. Greg’s father was telling him all sorts of exciting stories about the trains and ships that passed by every day. 

Suddenly a train whistle destroyed the peace of the moment. John had lost track of time and had to hurry to lower the bridge for the train to pass safely. He told his son to stay put on the catwalk while he set the bridge in motion. As long as Greg stayed where he was, he was safe. When John reached the control room he checked the river for any ships and looked down one more time at the catwalk, expecting to see Greg right where he had left him. 

But something had gone terribly wrong. Instead of staying where his father told him, Greg had tried to follow his father back to the control room. Along the way he had fallen off the catwalk and into the mechanism that moved the bridge. He could not free himself without help, and John could not get to him and return to control room in time to lower the bridge. 

This was a terrible quandary: either save his injured son from the mechanical teeth of the bridge or sacrifice his son to save 400 people on a train that was flying towards a raised bridge, oblivious to this awful situation. After looking at his son, then the incoming train, then back to his son and then the train, John made the heartbreaking choice to save the 400 on the train. He pulled the lever and the bridge lowered, taking the life of his beloved son. John’s anguish intensified as the train passed the control room and he saw the passengers laughing, napping, oblivious to his loss the sacrifice of his son Greg. Almost more painful than his son’s death was the thought that, for many on the train, this ultimate sacrifice would be unknown and meaningless.   

We have just finished seven intense days, Holy Week we call it, in which the most profound sacrifice, that of the Divine Father and His Divine Son, took place. We have just relived the betrayal of Jesus on Wednesday, the Last Supper and agony in the garden on Thursday, the horrific and brutal death on Friday, the stillness, emptiness and grieving on Saturday. But then the lifeless Son rose anew on Sunday, the one we call Easter, the one that has brought us here today in all of our finery, because we are spiritually rejoicing over the opportunity for the newness of life. We are all, or at least should be, grateful because Jesus,,,, who bore our infirmities, demonstrates that death is no longer the final word. This is the gospel, the good news indeed, and alleluia is the only response. This celebration, which began with the Easter vigil last night, will continue unbroken for the next fifty days, as we try to absorb a life-changing truth: death has been defeated, sin has lost its sting, Jesus’ grave is now empty.

  

The price of this victory wasn’t cheap. It cost a father his son; as a matter of fact, it cost our heavenly Father his Perfect Son! As we gather today on this Easter Sunday and every day of this Easter season, we should thank Him for allowing His only begotten Son to become man, to suffer and to die for our sins. We should adore Him for the new life we have, that the despair of death and grave has now been transformed by the power of Christ’s resurrection. 

This truth should change our lives! Humanity no longer has to be defined by its limits and failings. You and I are now adopted sons and daughters of God. We are meant to live forever with our Heavenly Father in heaven. Death is no longer the end; it is the beginning of eternal life for those who believe in Christ.This is the truth proclaimed by Easter, this is the good news we celebrate this morning and every Sunday throughout the year. We are free, we are alive, we have been given a divine power over sin and death.

So let us celebrate this divine life. Let’s not be oblivious to the Father’s sacrifice! Do not allow this supreme act of love be meaningless or forgotten! May we allow it to transform our daily living, making us live not for ourselves or the things of this world but rather for others and for God. Let us set aside our sinful ways and never forget that before time began, a father looked at his only begotten Son and knew that he would have to die so all might live. Don’t let a day go by without thanking God for this Easter gift. Amen, Alleluia.