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The 4th Sunday of Easter
Today’s Readings: [Click here]

Today—this fourth Sunday of Easter—is traditionally known as “Good Shepherd Sunday.” In the gospel, Jesus says: My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me.

This is an interesting metaphor, this sheep-and-shepherd imagery.

I have a favorite holy card—in fact, it’s a card I used as a memento of my first mass—that pictures Jesus holding an adorable lamb in his arms. It makes me smile to think of myself as that sweet baby animal that Jesus is cuddling. And of course, Maggie is a pure shepherd dog: half Border Collie and the other half Australian Shepherd.

But there’s also another side to sheep.

Around these parts, of course, most farmers are raising beans and corn. Or, if they want to be different, they raise corn and beans. Not too many are involved with livestock—and if they are, it’s probably hogs or beef critters. So even though I’ve got more city boy than farmer in my genes, let me tell you a bit of what I’ve picked up about keeping sheep. Maybe it will give you a clue as to why these animals remind the Lord of you and me.

Shepherds and ranchers tell us that sheep are practically defenseless against predators. They’re not very resourceful. They’re inclined to follow one another into danger. And they are absolutely dependent on their human masters for safety. In other words: sheep are cute, but they’re pretty dumb.

So when David wrote in one of his psalms: “We all, like sheep, have gone astray”—he was referring to our tendency to move as an unthinking herd, and away from the watchful care of the Shepherd.

There was a documentary on TV a few years ago in which the cameras went inside a packinghouse where sheep were being slaughtered for the meat market. Outside, huddled in pens, were hundreds of nervous animals. They seemed to sense danger in their unfamiliar surroundings. Then a gate was opened that led up a ramp and through a door to the right. In order to get the sheep to walk up that ramp, the handlers used what is known as a “Judas goat.” This is a goat that has been trained to lead the sheep into the slaughterhouse.

The goat did his job very efficiently. He confidently walked to the bottom of the ramp and looked back. Then he took a few more steps and stopped again. The sheep looked at each other skittishly and then began moving toward the ramp. Eventually, they followed this confident goat to the top, where he went through a little gate to the left, but they were forced to turn to the right and went to their death. It was a dramatic illustration of unthinking, herd behavior and the deadly consequences it often brings.

Stop and ponder for a moment that to some extent—maybe even to a great extent—you and I are sheep freely choosing to walk up that slaughterhouse ramp. We have allowed ourselves to be seduced by the Judas goat.

The Judas goat may be dangling the promise of money before our eyes. Or independence. Or escape from some bad situation. Or the hope of a good time. Or success or power or popularity or just about anything else, real or imagined, that seems to beguile us and tempt us and reel us in.

And of course, we’re never asked to walk the ramp alone. Oh no. We see other people chasing the same dreams, so we get in step with confidence.

The Good Shepherd—who also says in the gospel today: I give them eternal life and they shall never perish—has a broader perspective than we do. He knows where the ramp we’re on leads to, and he definitely does not want us to blindly follow a dumb herd into the slaughterhouse.

Once in a while, the Good Shepherd knocks us for major loop to get our attention so we can refocus on him: like getting knocked off a horse like Saint Paul… or having a heart attack, or losing your job, or having a new baby, or running into some other life-shaking event. In that brief flash of a moment, the Good Shepherd is signaling madly: “Hey! Over here! Here’s the path you want.”

Regrettably, many people may just glance up for a moment… and then blithely continue up the slaughterhouse ramp. Why? Because that’s what we sheep are easily persuaded to do.

I think we’ve all heard the statistics about how we human beings only use a fraction of our brains. What do they say? 10% or something like that? Well, it’s time to kick in another percentage point or two!

It is obvious—obvious—that many of the treasures and pleasures of this life are a dead-end. Not too much fits in the casket with us… and we certainly can’t carry it with us across the threshold of eternity.

No, the only things that endure are the spiritual things: mainly faith, hope and love. But also the other virtues: kindness, generosity, patience, tolerance, encouragement, charity, tenderness, honesty, prayerfulness.

That’s why we have to come down off that death ramp. We’ve got to use another few brain cells and try to be strong enough and brave enough to look over to the Good Shepherd—our Lord and God—who in his unshakable love offers us a far better path. Besides his own watchful eye, he gives us the Holy Spirit, the angels, the saints, the church, our family and friends—and strangers, too—plus an abundance of graces and other helps along life’s way… if only we’re willing to listen to his voice, trust him and follow him.

My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me.

We all know: life is short. Don’t waste a precious moment... choose the right path.