The image of the Good Shepherd is proclaimed in John 10:11-18 on April 21. It is a rich reflection each year on the Fourth Sunday of Easter, an image of Jesus Christ that has become a home for celebrations of First Communion for young children and celebrations of priestly vocations. The image of the shepherd is familiar and childlike, but obscure and challenging as well in our modern society.
Looking back on my seminary days, I now realize when I made the connection of the Good Shepherd in my own life. At my end-of-year evaluation during my sophomore year in college, there was a very challenging conversation about my life in the seminary. Several staff members had been very clear about my weaknesses. As the meeting ended, one of the priests leaned into the small circle of our conversation. He paused, gazed down at the floor, then looked at me and said, “Ron, Ron …. we will wait for you.” Those few words warmed me and comforted my soul. I cannot fully articulate the generosity and kindness I felt from him, how embraced I felt by his concern. I really heard his voice. With that simple reassurance, he had come after me spiritually, lifted me to his shoulders, and carried me back from my disappointment and sense of failure. He kept the door open for me to continue my search for God and my search for maturity. I was lost and had been found.
That moment of concern from a priest-shepherd has formed my life and ministry. I have watched parents shepherd children through cancer, through addiction, and alienation from loved ones. I have seen families befriend foster children and elderly strangers in nursing homes. I searched out the lost when AIDS began years ago, and listened to a soldier who never felt welcomed back from Vietnam. My heart raced toward the sinner in the confessional and the hungry family sitting on the street corner. The image of the shepherd is a way of living out the mystery of God’s fidelity toward us. The Good Shepherd brings forgiveness, healing, and compassion.
At Holy Cross House, the tables have been turned from my formation years as I find myself shepherding my mentors, guiding those who shepherded me into faith and religious life. I cling to the image of the Good Shepherd more deeply than ever. The gift of God’s eternal and merciful love is embedded in this spiritual image, present even in the overwhelming tides of old age, disease, and mental decline.
Under our roof at Holy Cross House, we pray and serve as religious men who have ministered across the globe. We have shepherded communities, searched out the sinner and the saint, and lived on the margins of the Church and in its core. We have stretched our imaginations about how to serve beyond our expertise and how to shelter those without homes, food, and education. We are spiritual shepherds who have retired, yet our hearts continue to expand. We pray for the needs of our world, for those who are lost to gunfire or in poverty, for those who struggle in family life, and for those who wait on the brink of death. Our shepherding may be diminished because we are on walkers or in wheelchairs, but our hearts have not shrunk into despair or uselessness.
Our shepherding in the Church is still vital. We still see with eyes of care and compassion, even when we have slowed down and now need assistance ourselves. We still tend to each other, when one man needs help putting on his sweater or another needs help being seated for meals. The action of shepherding resides always in the souls of these priests and brothers.
Here at Holy Cross House, pastoral roles are often reversed. The once healthy shepherds who cared for parish flocks or shepherded a classroom also become the lost sheep. This is where new shepherds become seen and empowered. Our shepherds are housekeepers and those who prepare our food. Our shepherds are medical professionals who listen for the buzzers from men who need help in their rooms. They drop everything and run toward the weak. They identify familiar coughs that reverberate down the hallway. They know the voices making requests, understanding what is constrained by a dry mouth or mental decline, and anticipating needs unspoken. They know to turn bodies recovering from a stroke every two hours, to cleanse skin wounds, and to cover chilly legs with another blanket. They adjust oxygen for respiration, clean up messes, and change linens. These shepherds of inspiration wear colorful scrubs, to enhance our world at Holy Cross House as they tend to the physical and emotional needs of other shepherds who now cannot help themselves.
The Risen Christ is revealed in serving those around us. We are a house of shepherds, some who wear scrubs and sneakers and others who put on old cardigans and support socks. Some of our shepherds wheel elderly shepherds to an ambulance and other shepherds take the sick into the quiet of their hearts in a dimly lit chapel. The “good” in the Good Shepherd implies that redemption is near, that sins are forgiven, and that the aches and pains of our bodies will be redeemed in heaven. All is good. Every moment in our ever-changing bodies is good.
As Christians, we spend our lives searching for the voice of God, tender and loving, that becomes our true freedom. The voice of God does not diminish as our bodies age, but rises up in our alienation from others and in our despairing nights, leading us to love, to comfort, and to hope. We listen attentively throughout our lives for the voice of God that gives us direction and shows us our path to eternity.
Litany:
Response: Protect us, O Risen Christ.
When we are lost in the brambles of despair…
When we are confined to ill health and lonely nights…
When we are discouraged along our vocation’s path…
When our voices become obsolete and unheard by others…
When our voices become raspy from complaint and hatred…
When our voices despair in our new diagnosis of disease…
When we give up searching for your voice…
When we believe our voice is sufficient and true…
When we give up prayer altogether…
When we feel so lost because of our doubt and sin…
When we struggle to serve the silent and despairing…
When hope no longer becomes our food…
When we are too proud to be vulnerable for prayer…
When we are too private to call for help from others…
When we believe our arrogance is all we have to lean upon…
When we do not feel we deserve God’s abiding love…
When we hesitate in prayer and stumble in our actions…
When we have given up listening to the voice of the Shepherd…
In this Easter, renew our voices of praise…
In this Easter, restore our commitment to follow you…
In this Easter, call us into your loving embrace…
_____
About:
Rev. Ronald Patrick Raab, C.S.C. serves as religious superior of Holy Cross House, our retirement and medical facility at Notre Dame, Indiana. He is an award-winning author, blogger, and visual artist. Learn more: ronaldraab.com
Artwork:
Fr. Ron created this image of the “Good Shepherd” in 2022. Many of Fr. Ron’s paintings have been reprinted in pastoral magazines and parish bulletins in various churches and dioceses worldwide.
Published: March 14, 2024
