This morning’s Gospel reading is John 10:11–18:

Jesus said:

“I am the good shepherd. A good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. A hired man, who is not a shepherd and whose sheep are not his own, sees a wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away, and the wolf catches and scatters them. This is because he works for pay and has no concern for the sheep. I am the good shepherd, and I know mine and mine know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I will lay down my life for the sheep. I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. These also I must lead, and they will hear my voice, and there will be one flock, one shepherd. This is why the Father loves me, because I lay down my life in order to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down on my own. I have power to lay it down, and power to take it up again. This command I have received from my Father.”

Today’s gospel touches on one of the most enduring images in Christianity — Jesus as the Good Shepherd. Its iconography goes back to the earliest days of the faith; catacombs outside of Rome have carvings of the Good Shepherd from the first centuries of martyrdoms.

Perhaps the strength of this iconography can be found in the manner in which this image of Christ comforts us, but its endurance is still a bit surprising. Most of us in modern times have little to no experience with shepherds, either being one or coming into close contact with the trade. When Jesus used this analogy, it would have been instantly clear to everyone who heard it, and that would have been true for centuries afterward. Even those who lived in cities would have had regular contact with shepherds — and the necessity of finding good ones that would not let their flocks go astray and dissipate.

This analogy has several meanings for us as Christians, but one of the more amusing popped up last week on Twitter, of all places. My friend Casey Mattox offered this brief clip as a commentary on sin, which also explains the value of a patient and constant shepherd:

If your pastor doesn't use this in an illustration about sin this morning, is he even on twitter? https://t.co/B0marWHLvy

— Casey Mattox (@CaseyMattox_) April 18, 2021

To be fair, last week’s readings didn’t touch on this theme, but today’s Gospel certainly does. In case you can’t play the clip, it shows a young boy rescuing a lamb from a crevasse, pulling the frightened animal out backwards from the hole in the ground. Once freed, the lamb promptly runs off … only to fall back into another part of the same hole. The clip ends there, but presumably the boy rescues the poor animal again from its own ignorance.

It’s tough to find a better (or at least more entertaining) illustration of sin, as Casey points out. Sin is repetitive, it’s foolish, it’s self-destructive, and we cannot help ourselves from falling into it time and again. If we aren’t falling into holes, we’re wandering away from the flock and its shepherd, only to get lost in dangerous terrain. We can get pulled out or found, but we tend to make similar mistakes again, making our need for rescue more or less constant.

If we stumble into sin constantly, we need a constant Shepherd to guide us. This is what Jesus promises in this passage — His constancy as our Good Shepherd. Even when we wander out of our own foolishness, Jesus will seek us out to bring us back. No matter how many times we fall into that hole, Jesus will pull us back out and return us to safety. His shepherd’s mission is not just salvation, but constant and eternal salvation.

Why? Because we need constant and eternal salvation. We are fallen in a fallen world in our fallen stewardship. The holes and crevasses are those we find in our own blindness; the wayward paths we tread, we find out of our own spiritual blindness. Any other shepherd might write off one lost lamb among a gigantic flock, but Christ promises His protection over all, to the point of giving His life for each.

But Jesus promises even more than that. Not only does He pledge to be the Good Shepherd over His own flock, but that all ‘sheep’ are His. “I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold,” Jesus says, sheep that He will lead as well until there is but “one flock, one shepherd.”

In this Gospel passage, we can see why the Good Shepherd imagery has remained so powerful from the beginnings of Christianity. Despite our own pretenses of mastery, we all know in our hearts that we do not command the universe or this world. We are never far removed from the fear of going astray or falling into the crevasses that suddenly appear under our feet. Mostly, we all feel to some degree the separation between us and God and long to bridge that gap. Whether we are familiar or not with animal husbandry, we all feel the comfort that the Good Shepherd provides us in those moments — when Jesus becomes our refuge and our protector, guiding all of us to eternal life.

That doesn’t mean we won’t stumble at times, or find ourselves lost. In those events, we can feel frightened, but we should take heart that we’re never alone. If we accept the Holy Spirit in our hearts, then Jesus will find us and pull us to safety — even if it’s by our legs, backwards, when we neither see Him nor fully understand His guidance.

And watch out for that crevasse — ah, well …

Image from the mausoleum of Galla Placidia, Ravenna, Italy (425-50 AD). Via Wikimedia Commons. 

“Sunday Reflection” is a regular feature, looking at the specific readings used in today’s Mass in Catholic parishes around the world. The reflection represents only my own point of view, intended to help prepare myself for the Lord’s day and perhaps spark a meaningful discussion. Previous Sunday Reflections from the main page can be found here.