Good Shepherd Sunday

Lectionary: 51

The first minnow appears
in a melting stream

My sheep hear my voice;
I know them, and they follow me.
I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish.

Every year on the fourth Sunday of Easter the church presents gospel readings that describe Jesus as the good shepherd. This teaching and image challenges the romantic stoicism of Invictus: “I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul.”

In fact, in my experience, the captain of his soul who sees himself as an isolated hero is more likely to be the lamb slaughtered in the marketplace of drugs, alcohol and assorted foolish behaviors. Without an authority to guide him he is prey to every dreary idea that comes down the road. If he dismisses a thousand of them, the 1001st will get him.

A recent New Yorker describes the tragic death of a 1970’s champion of feminism. Raised in an emotionally violent home under a tyrannical father, she threw herself into the movement and immediately became the most radical in the group. Many of her ideas about women’s rights to respect, security, equal pay and equal opportunity deserved attention; but her energy came out of an angry, sorely wounded soul. She could only alienate the women who flocked to hear her speak; they would not accept her leadership. In the end she starved to death in her apartment, isolated by madness.

In spring the lake turns green with life. 

The author, reflecting on her story, cites the growing prevalence of schizophrenia and notes how often ideologues are isolated by their convictions. She concludes, “Social support protects against the development of schizophrenia.” 

The stoic is isolated by inability to engage in a workable, close relationship with others. They identify and tend to their own needs, but overlook the need for surrender to the authority of love.

This is a worsening problem, especially as so many people feel threatened by institutions that are growing larger, more powerful and more intrusive. I think of the NRA, which suspects every attempt to limit gun ownership. Members believe the government is compiling a list of gun owners and is preparing to invade their homes, confiscate their weapons and, perhaps, wreak physical and psychological harm on their loved one in the process. 

This movement is more than a lunatic fringe; it is an expression of a growing unease throughout the world. States, both democratic and autocratic, are "crowd-sourcing" to discover and quell rebellion among their citizens -- as we saw this past week. They recall the Nazi invasion of Jewish ghettos in Europe, Stalin's exterminations, the disappeared in Argentina, and the crowd sourcing in Syria, Egypt and Iran. 

Catholics invoke the Good Shepherd when we feel vulnerable before overwhelming global threats. We have nowhere else to turn. We will not delude ourselves with romantic dreams of suicidal shootouts. That is far too cynical, far too pessimistic. Such nonsense abandons the field to the very forces the gun lobby claims to hate. (Not to mention the fact they're sleeping with the international arms industry that also equips the police and military.)

Surrendering to the reassuring voice and guiding authority of the Good Shepherd the Church engages a complex world. We find friends and allies among the “Powers that Be” and rally support for humane causes. Rather than surrender to the Culture of Death that cynically promotes weapons, abortion and euthanasia, we lobby for the rights of all people to security, education, opportunity and health care. We defend marriage and family and the need for human interaction. We may be anxious but we do not despair of the future. Every government which responds to our blessed presence will shepherd its people better. 

Jesus the Good Shepherd and his Mother Mary provide a solid foundation of reassurance. From that place we emerge strong, capable and ready to make a difference for good.