Take a look at today’s Gospel and count. Five times in this seven-verse passage Jesus lets us know that He is the Good Shepherd. Does the sentimental image from children’s books or stained windows that depict the small pretty white sheep draped over the shoulders of the spotless, good-looking young man come to mind? Don’t let that image distract you from the rest of Jesus’ self-identification; the part that includes He lays down his life for His sheep. We hear this Gospel on the Fourth Sunday of Easter precisely because it illuminates the heart of the paschal mystery.
Admit it or not, you are the rambunctious wandering sheep that Jesus saved through His death and resurrection. Yes, you are one of the sinners He experiences more joy over saving, than His joy over the righteous ones who manage to keep it together while He is off gathering back all those who wander. If you are lucky, your recognize that, and are consoled in the salvation you accept.
Admit it or not also, you are sometimes one of those left in the pack while Jesus goes off in search of the lost, the marginalized, the poor, those who need Him most. It tempts you nonetheless to feel abandoned, despite the good fortune of protection of warm bodies that surround you in the middle of the pack. You may pause, in anger or fear, and accuse Jesus of recklessness by leaving the 99 exposed to hungry wolves. Now that admission is true luck, true grace, because as we seek the consoling Presence we miss, we discover the parts of our life where we feel lost, the relationships in which we’ve been marginalized, our absolute poverty without the Good Shepherd close at hand. Everything, everyone else we discover is a poor substitute.
How do we remain always in the consoling presence of the Good Shepherd? Running from the Lord is not a plan for eternal success. Better to be like Peter in today’s First Reading and become one with Jesus by seeing and reaching out to the damaged sheep in our life; the weak ones, the disobedient or slow ones, even the ones who will probably never listen to you calling them to come home. There is nothing pretty or sentimental about it, but instead of feeling empty or afraid, you finally will feel embraced and whole. May we all continue our Easter feasting, comforted that we are known and loved and protected unconditionally by the Good Shepherd.