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April 26, 2026                   

(Joh 10:4-5) And when he hath let out his own sheep, he goeth before them: and the sheep follow him, because they know his voice. But a stranger they follow not, but fly from him, because they know not the voice of strangers.

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FATHER JAMES LIEBNER, SVD: A Reflection for Good Shepherd Sunday

This Sunday is Good Shepherd Sunday.  It invites us to wonder: why does Jesus liken Himself to a shepherd?  Why choose that specific image instead of calling Himself the Good King, the Good Doctor, or the Good Rabbi?  And what is it about us that makes “sheep” the perfect metaphor for who we are?  Why does Jesus cherish the role of the shepherd, and why are we called to be members of His flock?

In this Sunday’s Gospel, Jesus distinguishes Himself from the “hired hands”—those who work only for pay and flee when danger approaches because they have no true relationship with the flock.  Jesus is the Good Shepherd because His care is rooted in love, not a paycheck.  Unlike a hireling, He is willing to lay down His life for His sheep.

I still remember the first time I saw real sheep and real shepherds.  Growing up in New Jersey, I was used to seeing herds of dairy cows, but never sheep.  Cows are often content in barns and confined spaces, but sheep need room; they are restless wanderers seeking green pastures.  During the day, a shepherd must lead them to find pasture and watch over them with immense patience.  Sheep are only willing to enter a corral at night to sleep and to find protection from the dangers the darkness brings.

Years ago, a priest friend and I were driving from Chicago to Los Angeles.  As we crossed through Arizona, I made arrangements with the Sisters of the Blessed Sacrament to stay at St.  Michael’s School in the Navajo Nation.  We arrived in the evening, and the following morning, we took a short tour of the surrounding area.

We eventually came upon a small valley where a flock of sheep grazed, tended by two Navajo boys, perhaps eight and ten years old.  They were dressed in traditional clothing—heavy ponchos draped over their shoulders—and each held a long staff.  The landscape was sparse with more sun-scorched boulders than grass.

Initially, I was struck by the scene.  I thought to myself: This is exactly like the Gospel.  These boys are guarding their flock ready to drive away wolves with their staffs.

However, after watching for a while, my impression changed.  The sheep seemed to be wandering aimlessly, and the boys appeared more interested in playing than working.  The younger boy was casually throwing stones, while the older one lay flat on his back atop a large rock, basking in the sun.  I began to judge them and felt a wave of disappointment.  They aren’t like the Good Shepherd at all, I thought.  The sheep are scattered, and these boys aren’t even paying attention.

Just as that thought crossed my mind, a small lamb wandered over a ridge and out of sight.

Immediately—before I even realized the lamb was gone—the older boy, who I had assumed was napping, bolted upright.  He leaped off the rock and sprinted over the hill after the stray.  A few moments later, he reappeared, coming back into view with the lamb cradled lovingly in his arms.  He walked back to the flock and gently placed the lamb beside its mother.

In that moment, my disappointment transformed into joy.  I realized they truly were like the Good Shepherd.

They gave the sheep the freedom to roam.  They didn’t use their staffs to strike the animals or bark orders telling them, “Go here,” “Don’t go there,” or what to eat.  They allowed the flock to wander the valley.  While it looked to my untrained eyes like the sheep were forgotten, the shepherd’s eye was never truly off them.  At the first sign of real danger, he was there.

Is it any wonder why Jesus likens Himself to a shepherd and us to the sheep of His flock?  For that relationship reveals the heart of how Jesus cares for us.  He does not stand over us with a staff to force our every move or micromanage our lives through fear and control.  He does not mistreat his flock; rather, He loves us so much that He gives us the freedom to wander, even if it means we wander away from Him.  But the moment we move into peril, He is there to protect us and carry us—if we are willing—back to His flock.

Seeing those young shepherds caring for their sheep on the Navajo Nation that day gave me a profound insight into the love the Good Shepherd has for His flock.  His watch is constant, even when He seems most still.  We only truly come to experience the depth of His heart for us after we wander, and He picks us up, and we find ourselves once again in His loving arms—the place we really longed to be.

Ladder of Divine Ascent excerpt: Step 7- "On Joy-Making Mourning"

6. Greater than baptism itself is the fountain of tears after baptism, even though it is somewhat audacious to say so. For baptism is the washing away of evils that were in us before, but sins commited after baptism are washed away by tears. As baptism is received in infancy, we have all defiled it, but we cleanse it anew with tears. And if God in His love for mankind had not given us tears, those being saved would be few indeed and hard to find.

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