Easter 4—Good Shepherd

Jesus as Good Shepherd may seem a difficult concept for readers whose experience is primarily urban. But the more I think about it, the richer it seems. Never mind that shepherds say the critters they tend are stupid and smelly. No odd aromas nor slow wits deter Jesus. He simply says, “I know my own,” placing no blame.

On Easter Monday, the gospel mentions the women running from the tomb with a cocktail of emotions, “fearful yet overjoyed.” “And behold, Jesus met them on their way and greeted them” (Mt. 28: 9). No matter how meandering our ways, through grocery stores or gyms, offices or schools, retirement centers or prisons, Jesus, eager to see us, meets us on each unique and personal path. We needn’t be running a marathon or ascending to an altar—he’s there waiting, arms open wide.

Few of us look out our windows to see shepherds with flocks on the hillsides, but if we broaden the imagination, we can see them in unique ways. People shepherd creatively, perhaps never dreaming that they model one who gathers the sheep in his arms. For example,

A mom with a demanding job and two young children nevertheless stays at the vet with her sick dog overnight and throughout another day. She can’t bear to leave him, frightened and alone, so she sacrifices her sleep. Just what the Good Shepherd might do…

In Oakland, CA, over 100 volunteers read in 14 elementary schools to 5,000 students for Asian-American and African-American months, shepherding children from a variety of backgrounds towards, or re-acquainting them with, fascinating cultures.

Dean William Treanor of Georgetown Law shepherded his school when the Trump administration threatened to bar their students from federal jobs if diversity, equity, and inclusion continued to be part of the curriculum. With a clear, succinct “No,” he said, “that is not who we are.” Uncowed by bullying, Treanor wrote: “The First Amendment… guarantees that the government cannot direct what Georgetown and its faculty teach and how to teach it.” As a Jesuit and Catholic institution, they have always welcomed people from diverse backgrounds and perspectives—and will continue to do so.

A guard at the Louvre museum in Paris noticed a small girl crying. She’d been pushed out of the crowds so eager to take a selfie with the Mona Lisa, they’d shoved her aside. Afraid she was lost, the guard found her grandmother and led them to a clear space in front of the art, took their pictures and stopped the tears. Of course he didn’t have to do it, but the shepherding instinct runs deep and kind.

As it does for a man who explains somewhat shyly that he’s kept his housekeeper when he no longer needs one. “But she’s 65—and where would she go?” he asks from a large and generous heart.

A religious sister who works in prisons introduces “Project Bedtime Story,” where inmates read to their children, their voices then electronically conveyed home to the kids. Both men and women’s prisoners even add back up choruses, singing the ABC song or whatever works as their friends read aloud.

So the Shepherd strolls, maybe where we least expect…