Alleluia Alleluia I Know my
Sheep
Introduction
A favorite theme
Sheep and shepherds is a favorite theme among
Christians. A favorite psalm of ours declares, "The Lord is my shepherd, I
shall not want” (Ps 23). A favorite parable of ours speaks of a
shepherd leaving behind a flock of ninety-nine sheep and going in search of one
that's lost. When found, he wraps the little thing around his shoulders and
carries it safely back home (Lk 15:4-6). A favorite edifice of ours is St.
Peter's Basilica in
A favorite word of ours is pastor. Protestants and
Catholics use it for their ministers and priests. Pastor comes from the Latin pascor meaning to feed: a pastor is one
who feeds the sheep. A favorite pope and pastor of ours is John XXIII. On the
day of his coronation,
Qualities
of a good shepherd
The second Sunday of
Easter is always Doubting Thomas Sunday. The fourth Sunday is always
Good Shepherd Sunday. The
theme comes
from the tenth
chapter of
This last quality—knowing
one’s sheep-- is always singled out on the fourth Sunday of Easter by the
alleluia verse just before the gospel. It’s interesting to note that all the
Sundays of the year have three different alleluia verses to announce the gospel
(one for each of the three liturgical cycles). But Good Shepherd Sunday has
only one and
repeats it every year: "Alleluia! Alleluia! I am the good shepherd.
I know my sheep, and my sheep know me."
What they don’t lose sleep
over
What do I know about my sheep? I know what they do not lose sleep over.
I know that that most of them are not much concerned about a celibate priesthood
or even a male-only priesthood. I know that 71% percent of them now favor, or
at least are not soundly opposed to married priests or even women priests. I know also that most of them no longer agonize
over contraception or over divorce and remarriage or over sacramental
confession, as they used to agonize in the old days.
Alleluia, I am a good shepherd. I know my sheep. I know also that an ever-increasing number of
them no longer agonize over their homosexuality but accept themselves,
even though the church does not. Though many of them have left the church, I
know that many remain in our midst and have quietly settled down to life in the
church which they love and have no intention of leaving. I know, too, that there is
an increasing number of straight sheep among the flock who have settled down to
peaceful acceptance of their gay brothers and sisters.
Alleluia, I am a good shepherd. I know my sheep. I know that many of them have either solved
these matters for themselves, or simply don't know what the problem is, or simply
do not care. I, good shepherd, might not like these facts, but they’re there,
and I don’t pretend they’re not
there.
The culture of pretense
I, good shepherd, also know there is a culture of
pretense out there: pretense about divorce (we don’t permit it);
pretense about birth control (we don’t practice it); pretense about gays
(they’re not there); pretense about auricular confession (it’s necessary for everyone
who’s committed mortal sin). And there are many other pretenses.
I, good shepherd, know
that this culture of pretense should be dealt with, for it fills the air with a vague feeling of dishonesty,
and it makes us all a bit cynical. All our pretending about this, that and the
other thing could have us wondering whether we are pretending also when we raise
bread on high at Mass and claim it is the very body of
Christ. It’s all connected.
What they do lose sleep over
Alleluia, I am a good shepherd. I know my sheep.
And what do I know about my sheep? I
know what they do lose sleep over.
I know they are concerned about getting and holding down a job in this age of downsizing. I know they’re concerned with the bottom line:
like affording health insurance, educating their kids, replacing an old car or
wash machine and paying for gas at the pump. I know that some of them
are battling cancer or are beset with grief over a loved one who has just died
of it. I know
that some are burdened with the monkey of addiction on their own backs or the
backs of someone they love very much. I know that fathers and mothers are beset
now with a brand new fear that their kid might get
massacred in school today.
Though Republicans are boasting right
now that the economy is really taking off and inflation is still very low, I,
good shepherd know the basic discontent which consumes many of my sheep:
they don’t have prime-time for their kids, their spouses and themselves.
They’re exhausted making a living but have very little time to live.
About all of us
Good Shepherd Sunday is not
just about some of us (about popes and bishops, priests and deacons); it’s
about all of us. Along the journey of life we all, sooner or later, are
shepherds. We all, sooner or later, are called to lead someone into green
pastures, protect them from wolves and call them by name. Fathers and mothers
especially are shepherds with sheep they must
lead and feed.
Alleluia, I am a good shepherd. I walk
up front and my kids follow me. I don’t walk behind to drive them; I walk up
front to draw them by who I am. I am a
good shepherd. I lead my kids into green
pastures. I see to it that they aren’t stuffing themselves with junk but with wholesome
stuff. I am a good shepherd. Unlike the hired-hand who runs away when he sees
the wolf coming, I stick by my kids through thick and thin and even lay down my
life for them. And then that alleluia
verse: “Alleluia, alleluia, I am a good shepherd. I know my kids, and they know
me.”
Knowing
our kids
Last Thursday five teenage boys,
ages 16 to 18, were accused of plotting a shooting rampage at their high school
in
If the nation learned
anything from the Columbine massacre it’s that some parents don’t know their
kids. (It’s true that even in the old days parents didn’t know their kids. But
in those days there wasn’t too much to know.
Today it’s different.) The Columbine massacre screams out questions to
be answered: how in the world could two terribly disoriented kids be plotting
the total destruction of a high school and their parent not know anything about
it? How in the world could they be concocting weapons of mass destruction in
the very basements of their upper middle-class homes and their upper
middle-class parents not know anything about it? Columbine wasn’t about the inner
city; it was about the suburbs. It was about two kids with lily white names
like Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold. It was about the suburbs which
didn’t have prime time for its kids.
Alleluia I am a good shepherd.
I know my kids. I know there’s a spiritual
storm raging within them which can turn them into weapons of mass destruction.
Good shepherd that I am, I know whether they are taking drugs or are having
irresponsible and uncommitted sex. Good
shepherd that I am, I know all this not because I’ve been snooping but because
I spend prime time with
them. In prime time I get to know my
kids, and they get to know me. And if I don’t have prime time for them, I make
prime time, because anything less is too dangerous and too expensive, as the
parents of those two kids from
Alleluia, I also know
that a culture of pretense lay at the roots of the Columbine massacre (pretense
on everybody’s part: the boys’ parents,
school officials and classmates as well). I also know that only honesty could
have changed the course of history in
Good Shepherds are good sheep
Good shepherds are also
good sheep. Good shepherds (like popes,
bishops and priests) not only talk to and teach the faithful, they are also
good sheep who listen to and learn from them. Good shepherds (like mothers and fathers) not
only talk to and teach their kids, they are also good sheep who, in turn, listen
to and are taught by them.
It’s a winning combination
when a shepherd is capable also of being a sheep: capable not only of leading and feeding but also
of being led and fed; capable not only of talking and teaching about celibacy, women’s
place in the church, divorce and remarriage, open communion, birth control,
homosexuality, but capable also of listening to and learning from others about
these terribly urgent issues.
Benedict’s
promise to listen
When Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger was elected supreme
shepherd of the church, he chose Benedict as his new papal name, after St.
Benedict of Nursia, founder of the Benedictine Order, who advised his abbots,
shepherds of the abbey, to listen to and learn from the least monk in the
community. On the day of his inauguration as the 264th successor of
Peter, Pope Benedict spoke a remarkable line in his homily: “My real program of
governance is not to do my own will, not to pursue my own ideas [not to listen
to myself] but to listen together with the whole Church.”
Fr. Francis Gonsalves, a Jesuit in
Benedict
keeps his promise to listen
Fr.
Hans Küng is a very famous Swiss German theologian who at one time was a very
close friend of Fr. Joseph Ratzinger, now Benedict XVI. They taught together at
the famous Catholic University of Tübingen in
In 1979 Küng was
stripped of the right to teach Catholic theology by Pope John Paul II because
he challenged Roman Catholic teaching about papal infallibility. It was known
that Ratizinger, as a member of the German Bishops’ conference, played an
important role in that revocation. From that time on Küng became Ratzinger’s
archenemy and staunch critic of his doctrinal positions and methods of policing
the church for John Paul II.
Conclusion
A momentous meeting
Fr.
Küng had often requested a meeting with
John Paul II, but the Pope never answered. When Benedict’s one-time friend and
now archenemy requested a meeting with him, Benedict kept his promise to
listen. He responded immediately and
offered this dissident sheep prime time--super prime time. On
In that momentous meeting and by that very
powerful gesture, supreme shepherd Benedict, whose job it is to teach the
sheep, in turn became a good sheep capable of listening and being taught. And
that’s what makes us all good shepherds.[1]
[1] One day Archbishop and shepherd Rembert
Weakland OSB of Milwaukee decided to become a good sheep who listens and is
taught. He held hearings with the women of his diocese to hear their views on
abortion. In a widely publicized report after the sessions, he unequivocally
upheld the Catholic teaching that abortion is immoral. He warned, however, that
the anti-abortion movement is counterproductive when its focus is narrow, its
tactics aggressive, and its rhetoric ugly and demeaning. The archbishop also
said his hearings revealed how far apart
the Church’s teaching is prohibiting the use of birth control from the views of
some very conscientious women.
Almost immediately people in low places and
high went after him. Zealous Catholics and fundamentalist Christians raised
strident voices. The