The readings for the Fourth Sunday of Easter may be found at:
https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/042626.cfm
Every day, we follow voices.
Voices that tell us who we are.
That tell us what matters.
Voices that shape how we see ourselves,
others, and even God.
And these voices, influence our choices,
our priorities, our peace and
even our identity.
In today’s gospel from the evangelist Saint John,
on what the Church recognizes
as Good Shepherd Sunday,
Jesus asks us a very simple question -
Whose voice are we listening to?
Jesus tells us,
“I came so that they might have life
and have it more abundantly.”
But He also speaks
of sheep, a gate, a shepherd, and voices.
And if we’re honest, we might hear this and think,
what does this have to do with us?
Most of us are not shepherds.
We don’t live in fields. We don’t tend sheep.
But the people listening to Jesus that day?
They understood immediately.
Because sheep know the voice of their shepherd.
They follow the voice they trust.
And they run from voices they don’t recognize.
And that matters, because there are so many voices
competing for our attention.
Voices that tell us we are not enough.
Voices that measure our worth by success,
appearance, or achievement.
Voices rooted in fear, anxiety, comparison, and distraction.
And Jesus says clearly,
“The sheep follow him, because they recognize His voice...”
Our problem is not that Jesus isn’t speaking to us.
It’s that we too often listen to other voices.
Voices that are louder.
But not always true.
And Jesus does not simply offer advice.
He doesn’t say, “Find your own way.”
He says something far more radical,
“I am the gate.”
Not only the shepherd - but the gate.
Telling us, clearly, that
He is the way in. He is the way to life.
No other way to abundance - apart from Him.
The shepherd knows His sheep.
And the sheep know His voice.
Not distant, but intimate.
This is belonging.
We have a God who knows us by name.
Earlier this month, while visiting Rome,
My wife and I prayed at the tomb of Pope Francis
in the Basilica of Saint Mary Major.
Above Francis’ simple tomb hangs the shepherd’s cross he wore.
On it, Jesus carries a sheep upon His shoulders.
Not distant. Not abstract.
But close. Personal. Carrying His sheep home.
And that struck me.
Because Jesus isn’t a shepherd who calls from far away.
He comes looking for us.
And when we are lost,
He doesn’t just point us in the right direction.
He lifts us up.
We wander. We ignore His voice.
And yet - He comes after us.
The Good Shepherd never abandons His sheep.
He does the exact opposite.
He lays down His life.
He sacrifices Himself.
The Shepherd becomes the Lamb
who lays down His life for His sheep.
So that we can have life.
Not just to live, but to live abundantly.
Life - filled with grace,
Life - rooted in peace,
Life - not dependent on circumstances,
because it rests in Him.
Which means,
If we feel lost - He is calling us.
If we feel burdened - He is ready to carry us.
If we feel distant - He is closer than we think.
And the reality for us,
as with the Good Shepherd,
is that God is better at finding us
than we are at finding him.
We must allow ourselves to be found.
Perhaps this week,
we should ask ourselves one simple question each day.
What voice will I follow today?
Because the Good Shepherd is still calling.
In Scripture. In prayer. In silence. In the Eucharist.
And nowhere is that voice more present than here.
Every time we come to this altar,
we are not just remembering an event
from two thousand years ago.
Every time we come to this altar,
we encounter the Shepherd,
who feeds His sheep.
Who gives Himself to us.
Who leads us toward life.
Calling our name.
Personally. Individually. Lovingly.
And if we listen...
If we trust...
If we follow...
We will discover that His promise is true.
That life with Christ is not smaller - but fuller.
Not narrower - but freer.
Not empty - but abundant.
If only we choose to follow His voice.
