Fourth Easter Sunday (year A)  [26 April 2026]

First Reading from the Acts of the Apostles (2:14a, 36–41)

The account of Peter’s speech in Jerusalem on the morning of Pentecost continues, and since he is now filled with the Holy Spirit, he reads, as it were, an open book in God’s plan. Everything appears clear to him; he recalls the prophet Joel who had announced: “I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh” (Joel 2:28), and it is evident to him that we are at the dawn of the fulfilment of this promise. Through Jesus, rejected and put to death by men, yet raised and exalted by God, the Spirit has been poured out upon all flesh, and Jewish pilgrims from every corner of the Roman Empire have come to celebrate the feast of Pentecost, the feast of the gift of the Law. During their journey and even upon arriving at the Temple in Jerusalem, the pilgrims sang psalms and implored God for the coming of the Messiah. Peter sought to open their eyes: the Messiah of whom you speak is that Jesus whom you have crucified, and when he declares Jesus to be Lord and Messiah, the Christ, these statements of his certainly seem very bold. If the man from Nazareth is the expected Messiah, this means that all the hope of Israel rests upon Jesus. Peter’s listeners were struck to the heart, says Luke, and Peter certainly knew how to touch their hearts. What must we do, they ask themselves? The answer is simple: repent to save yourselves from this perverse generation, and to repent, in biblical language, is precisely to turn around, to make a U-turn. There are two paths before us, and we often take the wrong one: we must then return to the right path. Peter makes a simple observation: the generation living at the time of Christ and the apostles was faced with a real challenge, namely to recognise in Jesus the Messiah awaited for centuries. Unfortunately, however, Jesus did not possess the characteristics or fulfil the hopes placed in the Messiah, who was imagined as the liberator of the Jewish people; thus, an error of judgement was made and the path was lost. For this reason, Peter calls on everyone to be converted and invites them to receive Baptism: be baptised in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit promised to you, to your children, and to all those who are far off, whom our Lord God will call. Furthermore, for Jews familiar with the study of the Scriptures, Peter recalls the prophecy of Joel – ‘I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh’ – just as his words echo those of the prophet Isaiah concerning the peace and covenant desired by God with the people of Israel (cf. Is 49:1; 57:19). It was precisely through this Covenant that Israel felt bound to God: they were the chosen people, the son, as the prophet Hosea says (11:1), whilst other peoples seemed far from God. When Isaiah then states that peace is also for those who are far away, he recalls that the chosen people have a mission of peace for all humanity, called to enter into what might be called God’s plan of peace. The author notes that on that day three thousand were baptised. He adds that the three thousand Jews who had become Christians were among those whom Peter called ‘neighbours’. Little by little, throughout the Book of Acts, even those who were far off will join those ‘called’ by God. To them, St Paul will say, in his letter to the Ephesians: you who were once far off have now become neighbours through the blood of Christ. And it is Christ, our peace, for ‘of the two, the Jew and the Gentile’, he has made one (Eph 2:14–18).

Responsorial Psalm (22/23)

We encountered Psalm 22/23 on the Fourth Sunday of Lent.  At the time, I emphasised three points in my commentary: first, the psalms speak of Israel as a whole, even though the speaker uses the first person singular, saying ‘I’; second, to describe its religious experience, Israel uses two comparisons: that of the Levite who finds joy in dwelling in the House of God, and that of the pilgrim who takes part in the sacred meal following the thanksgiving sacrifices. However, one must read between the lines to see that, through these two comparisons, the chosen people feel a sense of wonder and gratitude for God’s gratuitous Covenant. Thirdly, the early Christians recognised in this psalm the privilege of their own experience as the baptised, and Psalm 22/23 became, in the early Church, the hymn for the celebration of Baptism. I shall simply pause at the first verse: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.” There are many references in the Bible. The prophet Micah prays thus: Lord, with your staff be the shepherd of your people, the flock that belongs to you, so that the people may perceive themselves as God’s inheritance (cf. Mic 7:14). In Psalm 15/16, however, we find the inverse expression: ‘Lord, my portion and my cup; you determine my lot; the portion that falls to me brings me joy; I truly have the finest inheritance.’ When God is compared to a shepherd and Israel to his flock, one dares to think that the chosen people are a treasure to their God, which is a bold notion, and the use of such language is an invitation to trust, for God is portrayed as a good shepherd—that is, the one who gathers, guides, nourishes, cares for, protects and defends his flock, watching over all its needs. The prophet Micah writes that God will gather together all the remnant of Israel (cf. 2:12), and bring them together as a flock, gathering the lame and the scattered sheep. Zephaniah takes up the same theme: I will save the lame sheep (cf. 3:19), I will gather those who are scattered, which means that whenever we sow division, we are working against God. God, the attentive shepherd, shepherd-guide and defender of his flock. We find this frequently in the Psalms, particularly in Psalm 94/95, which is the daily morning prayer in the Liturgy of the Hours, where we read: ‘We are the people he leads, the flock guided by his hand’. In Psalm 77/78 we read that, like a shepherd, God leads his people, drives his flock into the desert, guides them, defends them, reassures them, and Psalm 79/80 begins with an appeal: “Shepherd of Israel: listen, you who lead Joseph, your flock, reveal your strength and come to save us”. It is clear that in difficult times, when the flock—that is, Israel—feels ill-guided, abandoned, mistreated or, worse still, beaten down, the prophets often turn to the image of the good shepherd to restore hope. It is therefore no surprise to find this theme in Second Isaiah, in the Book of the Consolation of Israel: God, like a shepherd, tends his flock; his arm gathers the lambs, carries them close to his heart, and leads the nursing ewes (cf. 40:11), so that along the roads they may still graze; on the barren heights shall be their pastures; they shall neither hunger nor thirst; the scorching wind and the sun shall no longer strike them, for he, full of compassion, will guide them, lead them to living waters (cf. Is. 49:9–10). Finally, Ezekiel also takes up this theme, saying that thus says the Lord God: “I myself will tend my sheep and search for them, just as a shepherd searches for his flock when he is among his scattered sheep; so I will search for my sheep and rescue them from all the places where they were scattered on a day of clouds and thick fog; I will feed them on the mountains of Israel, in the valleys and in all the best places. I will feed them in good pasture, and their grazing grounds will be on the highlands of Israel; there my sheep will lie down in lush pastures and graze in rich pastures. ‘On the mountains of Israel, I myself will tend my flock and let them rest,’ declares the Lord God. ‘The lost sheep I will seek out; the strayed I will bring back; the injured I will bind up; the sick I will strengthen’ (cf. 34:11–16).  Today, in turn, we sing this Psalm 22/23, knowing that Jesus presented himself as the shepherd of the lost sheep, inviting us to place our trust in the tenderness of God the Shepherd. In a time like ours, when our societies are going through days of clouds and gloom, we are invited to contemplate the image of the Good Shepherd and to renew our trust: God, the true Good Shepherd, never abandons us. 

Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Peter the Apostle (2:20b–25)

Saint Peter addresses a particular social group, slaves, because slavery still existed at that time and, under Roman law, a slave was at the mercy of his master, an object in his hands. It therefore happened that slaves suffered mistreatment at the whim of their masters, and a Christian slave serving a non-Christian master was exposed to even harsher oppression. Peter essentially encourages us to imitate Christ, who was himself a ‘slave out of love’ (cf. Phil 2:7) and who devoted his entire life to the service of all people. How, then, did he behave? When insulted, he did not respond with insults; when made to suffer, he did not threaten, but entrusted himself to the One who judges justly. Saint Peter urges us to endure suffering even when doing good, knowing that it is a grace in God’s eyes to be able to behave like Christ when facing trials. Certainly there is no Christian vocation to suffering, but in suffering there is a call to behave according to the example of Christ. So it is not suffering for the sake of suffering, but imitating Christ, who himself suffered by taking our sins upon himself on the wood of the cross, so that, having died to sin, we might live for righteousness. For by his wounds we have been healed. God has saved us so that we may live for righteousness. We have been healed of our wounds, which are our inability to love and to give, to forgive, to share. Because of original sin, we were far from God and disoriented, wandering like sheep. In Christ, crucified for our sins, we have regained fidelity to God’s plan, and his wounds have healed us. Christ died to bear witness to the truth, remaining faithful to the Father even on the cross. The cross, a place of utter horror and unbridled human hatred, has become the throne of absolute love. In Jesus’ forgiveness of his executioners, we are given the chance to contemplate and believe in God’s love for humanity, revealed in the cross, which can transform and convert us.  The prophet Zechariah reminds us: “They will look upon him whom they have pierced” (cf. 12:10), and this heals us, saves us—that is, it makes us capable once more of loving and forgiving as Christ did. When we allow ourselves to be moved by this absolute love of God, our hearts of stone become hearts of flesh, capable of living as he did. Let us allow ourselves to be transformed by this contagion of mercy so that Christ may continue, through us too, the work of transforming all humanity: He continues to send out disciples “like lambs among wolves” (cf. Lk 10:3; Mt 10:16) so that, following in his footsteps, we may be witnesses everywhere to God’s infinite mercy.  

From the Gospel according to Saint John (10:1-10)

The coherence of this Sunday’s biblical readings is truly evident, for the psalm, the second reading and the Gospel lead us into a sheepfold. The psalm compares God’s relationship with Israel to a shepherd’s care for his flock: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want; he makes me lie down in green pastures”; in the second reading, Saint Peter speaks of people like lost, wandering sheep, invited to return “to your shepherd, the guardian of your souls”. Here, in the Gospel, we read a passage from the long discourse on the Good Shepherd and a sheepfold. To understand it, we must make the effort to imagine the landscape of the Near East, where the flock is gathered for the night in a well-guarded enclosure and in the morning the shepherd comes to release the sheep to lead them to pasture: a scene very familiar to Jesus’ listeners at the time, firstly because there were many flocks in Israel, and secondly because the Old Testament prophets had taken to comparing God’s relationship with his people to that of a shepherd caring for his flock. In the responsorial psalm we have just heard some passages on this subject, and I would add a reference to the prophet Isaiah, who emphasises God’s care for his people: full of compassion, he ‘will lead them to springs of water’ (49:9–10). Furthermore, it was said of the future Messiah that he would be a shepherd for Israel, but at the same time the prophets never ceased to warn against false shepherds, a real danger to the sheep, and a matter of life and death for the flock. Jesus, in turn, takes up precisely this same theme, highlighting the shepherd’s care for his sheep and the danger of false shepherds—a subject he revisits in this Sunday’s Gospel in the form of two brief, successive parables: that of the shepherd, followed by that of the gate. It is interesting that he takes care to introduce both with the solemn formula ‘Truly, truly, I say to you’, an expression that always introduces something new. But if the theme of the shepherd was well known, where is the novelty? On the other hand, John specifies that these two parables are addressed to the Pharisees: Jesus tells the first, but, as he notes, they did not understand what Jesus meant to say to them, so Jesus continues with the second. The Pharisees did not understand the first, or did not want to understand it, perhaps simply because, quite clearly, Jesus suggests that he himself is this good shepherd capable of bringing happiness to his people, and they suddenly find themselves demoted to the rank of bad shepherds. Is it not that they understood perfectly well what Jesus meant, but could not accept it because that would be to admit that this Galilean is the Messiah, the One sent by God? Jesus bears no resemblance whatsoever to the image they had of him, and this is perhaps why Jesus took care to say, ‘Truly, truly, I say to you’. When he begins a discourse with this opening, one must pay particular attention, for it is equivalent to idiomatic expressions frequently found in the prophets of the Old Testament. Indeed, when the Spirit of God breathes into them words that are hard to understand or accept, the prophets always take care to begin—and sometimes end—their preaching with phrases such as ‘the word of the Lord’ or ‘thus says the Lord’. Although they knew this and were therefore aware that Jesus was speaking of matters of great importance, the Pharisees did not understand or did not wish to understand; nevertheless, Jesus persists, and John helps us to understand this deliberate insistence by noting that “then Jesus said again”. Here we see all of Jesus’ patience, as he tries in every way to convince his listeners: “Truly, truly, I say to you: I am the gate for the sheep” and whoever enters through me will be saved. Different ways to help them understand that he is the Messiah, the Saviour, and that only through him does the flock gain access to true life, life in abundance. We can draw one final lesson from this Gospel: Jesus says that the sheep follow the shepherd because they know his voice, and behind this image, we can discern a reality of the life of faith: our contemporaries will not follow Christ, will not be his disciples, if we do not make the voice of Christ resound, if we do not make the Word of God known. Is this not, once again, Jesus’ heartfelt appeal to make the sound of his voice heard by every means possible? 

+Giovanni D’Ercole

The defence of the little flock, and the whole People becoming Shepherds

(Jn 10:11-18)

At the beginning of chapter 10 Jn lays bare the difference between the true shepherd and the thief [rapacious and profiteering false leaders who do not care about the lives of others].

The authentic leader cares for the little flock, exposes himself to defend it and make it prosper; he leads it to water, and to green pastures.

Thus, from the initial simile of the Gate, Jesus moves on to the comparison of the Shepherd who defends the wandering flock and easy prey to bullies.

People instinctively grasp who is the true guide, in the variations of season and transhumance: they have an immediate, vibrant existential perception.

Women and men of the people always have a far more reliable practical discernment than the artificial, contemptuous discernment of the official authorities they suppose themselves to have.

None of them would give or risk anything for the life of the flock entrusted to them, whom they considered ignorant, marked for life; cursed (Jn 7:49. 9:34).

On the strength of this fineness of concrete intelligence, here is the goal at which Jesus aims in the gift of himself: it is the flock itself that will become Shepherd (v.16b).

So also Christ's flock-shepherd will not dodge the blows, nor will he be passive and conformist - but like Him: bold and outspoken.

This surprise adds a further opening of horizon, which we would call universal ecclesiology.

A disturbing prospect for opportunists and those satiated by the “buildings” set up by religion - and its induced trade - alarmed only by those constructed in the Faith.

But the Lord snatches us from the wolves.

Moreover, he does not limit himself to the crowds that are close to him.

The call and care of the authentic Shepherd crosses any boundary; not just the artificial and crafty one of the Temple.

God's vocation concerns even people still far from sacred precincts (v.16a Greek text), who are also considered necessary and full members of his People.

The new principle of belonging is Listening (v.3): immediacy even of one's own intimate and natural life instincts.

This is worth more than a soul already cleansed of error, or a flawless crowd.

Such is the creaturely and spontaneous prelude of mutual Communion [conviviality of differences] that supplants ancient religious affiliations.

«The Shepherd, the beautiful one, lays down his life for the sheep» (v.11): He has a style that overturns the greedy, pyramidal chain of command.

The Living Faith fraternities had well understood that existing in the Spirit of Christ and the life of the soul had unexpected implications - completely incompatible with the attachment to the ephemeral that the official authorities allowed themselves.

The irreverent Lucian of Samosata (120-190) gives a very significant glimpse of this originality - still in its infancy - which brings out the simplicity, the climate of mutual trust and the quality of life of the first believers, led by the good example of community leaders.

The well-known satirical author, who was opposed to superstitions and credulity among which he counted Christianity, bears indirect and paradoxical testimony to why the unexpected proposal of Sharing from the church co-ordinators - so alternative, incomprehensibly magnanimous and liberal - was recognised.

In light-hearted language that still makes us think of the distance to the ideal, despite the millennia that have passed - the ancient Greek-Syrian writer acutely described the concrete impact of the Faith in the true God, which he noticed was becoming increasingly widespread among the people.

Jesus wanted the establishment of an alternative society - non top-down, not exclusive, rather capable of happy Coexistence - the people's heart could be leveraged, starting with the testimony of authentic ‘teachers’.

In «The Death of Peregrinus» [De morte Peregrini, 13] the 2nd century polemicist expresses himself thus:

«Their first Lawgiver persuades them that they are all brothers to each other, and as they convert, denying the Greek gods, they worship that wise man crucified, and live according to his laws. For such they despise all goods equally and believe them to be common and do not care when they have them. Therefore if a shrewd impostor arose among them who knew how to handle them well, he would immediately become rich, mocking these gullible and foolish people».

It seemed madness for the ideal of the Hellenist, individualist and self-made man, as well as for the very image of a friend of God deserving of glory and courtesies - therefore his protégé in 'blessings” [a conviction that unfortunately remains almost unchanged].

But as can be seen between the lines, the new ‘guides’ in Christ were indeed beginning to supplant the credibility of other leaders who were more renowned in culture, yet far less interested in the reality of people.

In the lives of ‘Christians’, a balance, a coming together, a well-being and a «Way of wholeness» quite different from that of the ancient sterilised, one-sided 'perfection' became evident.

Dear Brothers and Sisters, dear Ordinands

At this hour in which you, dear friends, through the Sacrament of Priestly Ordination, are being introduced as shepherds into the service of the great Shepherd Jesus Christ, it is the Lord himself who in the Gospel speaks to us of service to the flock of God. The image of the shepherd comes from afar. In the ancient East, kings used to designate themselves as shepherds of their peoples. In the Old Testament Moses and David, before being called to become leaders and shepherds of the People of God, had actually been shepherds of flocks. In the travails of the period of exile, faced with the failure of the shepherds of Israel, that is, of the political and religious leaders, Ezekiel had traced the image of God himself as the Shepherd of his people. God says through the prophet: "As a shepherd reviews his flock ..., so I will review my sheep and gather them from all the places where they were scattered in the days of cloud and gloom" (Ez 34:12). Now Jesus announces that this hour has come: he himself is the Good Shepherd in whom God himself cares for his creature, man, gathering human beings and leading them to the true pasture. St Peter, to whom the risen Lord had given the task of shepherding His sheep, of becoming a shepherd with Him and for Him, describes Jesus as the "archipoimen" - the archpastor (cf. 1 Peter 5:4), and by this he means that one can only be a shepherd of the flock of Jesus Christ through Him and in the most intimate communion with Him. It is precisely this that is expressed in the Sacrament of Ordination: the priest through the Sacrament is totally incorporated into Christ so that, starting from Him and acting in view of Him, he carries out in communion with Him the service of the one Shepherd Jesus, in whom God, as man, wants to be our Shepherd.

The Gospel we have heard on this Sunday is only a part of Jesus' great discourse on shepherds. In this passage the Lord tells us three things about the true shepherd: he lays down his life for the sheep; he knows them and they know him; he is at the service of unity. Before reflecting on these three essential characteristics of being a shepherd, it will perhaps be useful to recall briefly the previous part of the discourse on shepherds in which Jesus, before designating Himself as Shepherd, says to our surprise: "I am the door" (Jn 10:7). It is through Him that one must enter into the shepherding service. Jesus emphasises this basic condition very clearly by saying: "Whoever... goes up another way is a thief and a robber" (Jn 10:1). This word 'climb' - 'anabainei' in Greek - conjures up the image of someone climbing over the fence to reach, by climbing over, where he legitimately could not reach. "Rising" - we can also see here the image of careerism, of the attempt to get "to the top", to get a position through the Church: serving, not serving. It is the image of the man who, through the priesthood, wants to make himself important, to become a personage; the image of the man who aims at his own exaltation and not at the humble service of Jesus Christ. But the only legitimate ascent to the shepherd's ministry is the cross. This is the true ascent, this is the true door. Not to desire to become someone personally, but instead to be there for the other, for Christ, and thus through Him and with Him to be there for the men He seeks, whom He wants to lead on the path of life. One enters the priesthood through the Sacrament - and that means precisely: through the donation of oneself to Christ, so that He disposes of me; so that I serve Him and follow His call, even if this should be at odds with my desires for self-fulfilment and esteem. To enter through the door, which is Christ, is to know him and love him more and more, so that our will may be united with his and our actions become one with his actions. Dear friends, for this intention we want to pray again and again, we want to strive for precisely this, that Christ may grow in us, that our union with Him may become ever deeper, so that through us it is Christ Himself who shepherds.

Let us now look more closely at Jesus' three fundamental statements about the good shepherd. The first, which with great force pervades the whole discourse on shepherds, says: the shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. The mystery of the Cross lies at the heart of Jesus' service as shepherd: it is the great service He renders to us all. He gives himself, and not just in the distant past. In the sacred Eucharist he does this every day, he gives himself through our hands, he gives himself to us. For this reason, with good reason, at the centre of priestly life is the sacred Eucharist, in which Jesus' sacrifice on the cross remains continually present, truly among us. And from this we also learn what it means to celebrate the Eucharist properly: it is an encounter with the Lord who for our sake strips himself of his divine glory, allows himself to be humiliated to the point of death on a cross, and thus gives himself to each one of us. The daily Eucharist is very important for the priest, in which he exposes himself again and again to this mystery; again and again he places himself in God's hands while experiencing the joy of knowing that He is present, He welcomes me, again and again He lifts me up and carries me, He gives me His hand, Himself. The Eucharist must become a school of life for us, in which we learn to give our life. Life is not only given at the moment of death, not only in the way of martyrdom. We must give it day by day. One must learn day by day that I do not possess my life for myself. Day by day I must learn to surrender myself; to make myself available for that thing for which He, the Lord, needs me at the moment, even if other things seem more beautiful and more important to me. Give life, not take it. It is precisely in this way that we experience freedom. Freedom from ourselves, the vastness of being. Precisely so, in being useful, in being a person who is needed in the world, our life becomes important and beautiful. Only he who gives his life, finds it.

Secondly, the Lord tells us: "I know my sheep, and my sheep know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father" (John 10: 14-15). Two apparently entirely different relationships are intertwined here: the relationship between Jesus and the Father, and the relationship between Jesus and the men entrusted to Him. But both relationships go right together, because men, after all, belong to the Father and are in search of the Creator, of God. When they realise that one only speaks in one's own name and draws only from oneself, then they realise that it is too little and that he cannot be what they are looking for. Where, however, another voice resounds in a person, the voice of the Creator, of the Father, the door to the relationship that man awaits opens. So it must be in our case. First of all, we must live our relationship with Christ and through him with the Father; only then can we truly understand men, only in the light of God can we understand the depth of man. Then the listener realises that we are not talking about us, about something, but about the true Shepherd. Obviously, also encapsulated in Jesus' words is the whole practical pastoral task, to follow people, to visit them, to be open for their needs and questions. Obviously practical, concrete knowledge of the people entrusted to me is essential, and obviously it is important to understand this 'knowing' of others in the biblical sense: there is no true knowledge without love, without an inner relationship, without a deep acceptance of the other. The shepherd cannot be content with knowing names and dates. His knowing the sheep must always also be a knowing with the heart. This, however, is only possible in the end if the Lord has opened our hearts; if our knowing does not bind people to our own little private self, to our own little heart, but instead makes them feel the heart of Jesus, the heart of the Lord. It must be a knowing with the heart of Jesus and oriented towards Him, a knowing that does not bind man to me, but guides him towards Jesus, thus making him free and open. And so we too among men become neighbours. So that this way of knowing with the heart of Jesus, of not binding to me but binding to the heart of Jesus and thus creating true community, that this may be given to us, we want to pray to the Lord again and again.

Finally, the Lord speaks to us of the service of unity entrusted to the shepherd: "I have other sheep that are not of this fold; these also I must lead; they shall hear my voice and become one flock and one shepherd" (John 10: 16). It is the same thing that John repeats after the Sanhedrin's decision to kill Jesus, when Caiaphas said that it would be better if only one died for the people than for the whole nation to perish. John recognises in this word of Caiaphas a prophetic word and adds: "Jesus had to die for the nation, and not for the nation only, but also to gather together the children of God who were scattered" (11:52). The relationship between the Cross and unity is revealed; unity is paid for with the Cross. Above all, however, the universal horizon of Jesus' action emerges. If Ezekiel in his prophecy about the shepherd was aiming at the restoration of unity among the dispersed tribes of Israel (cf. Ez 34:22-24), it is now no longer only about the unification of dispersed Israel, but about the unification of all God's children, of humanity - of the Church of Jews and Gentiles. Jesus' mission concerns the whole of humanity, and therefore the Church is given a responsibility for the whole of humanity, so that it may recognise God, that God who, for all of us, in Jesus Christ became man, suffered, died and rose again. The Church must never be content with the ranks of those it has reached at some point, and say that the others are just fine: the Muslims, the Hindus, and so on. The Church cannot retreat comfortably within the limits of its own environment. He is charged with universal concern, he must be concerned for all and of all. This great task in general we must 'translate' into our respective missions. Obviously, a priest, a pastor of souls, must first and foremost concern himself with those who believe in and live with the Church, who seek in it the path of life, and who for their part, like living stones, build up the Church and thus also build up and sustain the priest. However, we must also always again - as the Lord says - go out "into the streets and along the hedges" (Lk 14:23) to bring God's invitation to his banquet also to those people who have not yet heard of it, or have not yet been inwardly touched by it. This universal service, service for unity, has many forms. Always part of this is also the commitment to the inner unity of the Church, so that it, beyond all diversity and limitations, is a sign of God's presence in the world, which alone can create such unity.

The early Church found in the sculpture of its time the figure of the shepherd carrying a sheep on his shoulders. Perhaps these images are part of the idyllic dream of country life that fascinated society at the time. But for Christians, this figure naturally became the image of the One who set out to seek the lost sheep: humanity; the image of the One who follows us even into our deserts and confusions; the image of the One who took the lost sheep, which is humanity, on his shoulders and brings it home. It has become the image of the true Shepherd Jesus Christ. To Him we entrust ourselves. To him we entrust you, dear brothers, especially at this hour, that he may lead and carry you every day; that he may help you to become, through him and with him, good shepherds of his flock. Amen!

[Pope Benedict, homily for the priestly ordination of deacons, 7 May 2006]

Christ says: "I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep" (Jn 10:11). We know that these words were confirmed during his passion. Christ laid down his life on the cross. And he did so with love. Above all, he wished to respond to the love of the Father, who "so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal fife" (Jn 3:16). Carrying out "this charge... received from my Father" (Jn 10:18) and revealing his love, Jesus, too, felt, in a particular way, the Father's own love. He affirms this in the same discourse, when he says: "For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life, that I may take it again" (Jn 10:17). The sacrifice on Calvary is, above all, the giving of himself; it is the gift of his life, which, remaining in the power of the Father, is restored to the Son in a splendid new form. In this way, therefore, the Resurrection is the same gift of life re-stored to the Son in return for his sacrifice. Christ is aware of this, and he expresses it also in the allegory of the Good Shepherd: "No one takes it (that is, life) from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again" (Jn 10:18).

These words plainly refer to the Resurrection, and they express all the depth of the paschal mystery.

2.  Jesus is the Good Shepherd because of the fact that he gives his life to the Father in this way: giving it back in sacrifice, he lays it down for the sheep.

Here we enter the field of a splendid and fascinating simile, already so dear to the Old Testament prophets. Here are the words of Ezekiel:

"For thus says the Lord God: Behold, I, I myself will search for my sheep, and will seek them out... I myself will be the shepherd of my sheep, and I will make them lie down" (Ez 34:11, 15; cf. Jer 31:30).

Taking up this image again, Jesus revealed an aspect of the Good Shepherd's love that the Old Testament had not yet divined: to lay down one's life for the sheep.

As is known, Jesus often used parables in his teaching to make the divine truth which he proclaimed comprehensible to men who were generally simple and accustomed to think by means of images. The image of the Pastor and of the fold was familiar to the experience of his listeners, as it still is to the mind of modern man. Even if civilization and technique are progressing by leaps and bounds, this image, however, is still present in our state of affairs. The shepherds take the sheep to the pastures (as, for example, on the Polish mountains where I come from) and remain there with them during the summer. They accompany them from one pasture to another. They watch them so that they do not go astray, and in particular they defend them from wild animals; just as we hear in the Gospel account: "the wolf snatches them (the sheep) and scatters them" (cf. Jn. 10:1.2).

The Good Shepherd, according to Christ's words, is just he who, "seeing the wolf come", does not flee, but is ready to risk his own life, struggling with the beast of prey so that none of the sheep will be lost. If he were not ready to do so, he would not be worthy of the name of Good Shepherd. He would he a hireling, but not a shepherd.

This is Jesus' allegorical discourse. Its essential meaning lies precisely in this, that "the good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep" (Jn 10:11); and this, in the context of the events of Holy Week, means that Jesus, dying on the cross, laid dawn his life for every man and for all men.

"He alone could do it; he alone could bear a whole world's weight, the load of a guilty world, the burden of man's sin, the accumulated debt, past, present, and to come; the sufferings which we owed but could not pay; 'in his own body on the tree of the cross' (1 Pet 2:24) 'through the eternal spirit offering himself without spot to God... to serve the living God' (Heb 9:14). Such was the deed of Christ, who gave his life for everyone: and therefore he is called the Good Shepherd" (Card. J. H. Newman, Parochial and Plain Sermons, 16, London 1899, p. 235).

By means of the paschal sacrifice, all men became his fold—because he has ensured to each one that divine and supernatural life which, since man's fall, owing to original sin, had been lost. He alone was able to restore it to man.

3.  The allegory of the Good Shepherd and, in it, the image of the fold, are of fundamental importance to understand what the Church is and what tasks she has to carry out in the history of man. Not only must the Church be a "fold", but she must actualize this mystery, which is always being accomplished between Christ and man: the mystery of the Good Shepherd, who lays down his life for the sheep. This is what St Augustine says of her: "will he, who sought you first when you despised him instead of seeking him, despise you, O sheep, if you seek him? Begin, therefore, to seek him, the one who sought you first and carried you on his shoulders. Make his words come true: The sheep that belong to me listen to my voice and follow me" (Enarrationes in Psalmos, Ps LXIX, 6).

The Church, which is the People of God, is, at the same time, a historical and social reality, in which this mystery is continually renewed and actualized in different ways. And different men have their active part in this solicitude for the salvation of the world, for the sanctification of one's neighbour, which is and does not cease to be the solicitude characteristic of the Crucified and Risen Christ. Such is certainly, for example, the solicitude of parents with regard to their children. What is more, it is the solicitude of every Christian, without any difference, with regard to his neighbour, the brothers and sisters that God puts on his way.

This pastoral solicitude is, of course, particularly the vocation of pastors—priests and bishops. And they in particular must fix their eyes on the figure of the Good Shepherd, meditate on all the words spoken by Christ, and measure their own life by them.

Let us permit St Augustine to speak once more: "If only good shepherds be not lacking! Far be it from us that they should be lacking, and far be it from divine mercy not to call them forth and establish them. It is certain that if there are good sheep, there are also good shepherds: in fact it is from good sheep that good shepherds are derived." (Sermones ad populum, Sermo XLIV, XIII, 30).

4.  In accordance with the evangelical discourse on the Good Shepherd, the Church reconstructs every year in her own liturgy the life and death of St Stanislaus, Bishop of Krakow. His memory in the liturgical calendar of the Universal Church is celebrated on 11 April—the date of his death in 1079 at the hands of King Boleslas the Bold; in Poland, on the other hand, the feast of this principal Patron is traditionally celebrated on 8 May.

This year it is 900 years, nine centuries, since the moment in which—following the liturgical texts—we can repeat of him that he laid down his life for his sheep (cf. Jn 10:11). And even if this death is so distant from us in time, it keeps the eloquence of a special testimony.

In the course of history my fellow citizens united spiritually round the figure of St Stanislaus, especially in difficult periods.

In the current year, a year of Great Jubilee, as the first Polish Pope, who until a short time ago was the successor of St Stanislaus in the episcopal see of Krakow, I wish to participate in the solemnity in honour of the Patron Saint of Poland.

Together with all those who celebrate this solemnity we wish to approach again Christ the Good Shepherd, who "lays down his life for the sheep", in order that he may be our strength for future centuries and for the new generations.

[Papa Giovanni Paolo II, Udienza Generale 9 maggio 1979]

On this Fourth Sunday of Easter, called Good Shepherd Sunday, the Gospel (Jn 10:11-18) presents Jesus as the true shepherd who defends, knows and loves his sheep.

The “mercenary”, the one who does not care about the sheep because they are not his, is the opposite of the Good Shepherd. He does the job only for pay and is not concerned about defending them: when a wolf arrives, he flees and abandons them (cf vv. 12-13). Instead, Jesus, the true shepherd, defends us always and saves us in so many difficult situations, dangerous situations through the light of his word and the strength of his presence that we always experience if we want to listen, every day.

The second aspect is that Jesus, the Good Shepherd, knows — the first aspect: defend; the second: he knows his sheep and the sheep know him (v. 14). How beautiful and comforting it is to know that Jesus knows us one by one, that we are not unknown to him, that our name is known to him! We are not a “mass”, a “multitude” for him, no. We are unique individuals, each with his or her own story, he knows each of us with our own story, each one with his or her own value, both as creatures and as people redeemed by Christ. Each of us can say: Jesus, knows me!  It is true, it is like this: He knows us like no other. Only he knows what is in our hearts, our intentions, our most hidden feelings. Jesus knows our strengths and our defects, and is always ready to care for us, to heal the wounds of our errors with the abundance of his mercy. In him, the image the prophets had provided of the shepherd of the people of God is completely fulfilled: Jesus is concerned about his sheep, he gathers them, he binds their wounds, he heals their ailments. We can read this in the Book of the Prophet Ezekiel (cf Ez 34:11-16).

Therefore, Jesus the Good Shepherd defends, knows, and above all loves his sheep. And this is why he gives his life for them (cf Jn 10:15). Love for his sheep, that is, for each one of us, leads him to die on the cross because this is the Father’s will — that no one should be lost. Christ’s love is not selective; it embraces everyone. He himself reminds us of this in today’s Gospel when he says: “And I have other sheep, that are not of this fold; I must bring them also, and they will heed my voice. So there shall be one flock, one shepherd” (Jn 10:16). These words testify to his universal concern: He is everyone’s shepherd. Jesus wants everyone to be able to receive the Father’s love and encounter God.

And the Church is called to carry on this mission of Christ. Aside from those who participate in our communities, there are many people, the majority, who do so only at particular moments or never. But this does not mean they are not God’s children: the Father entrusts everyone to Jesus the Good Shepherd, who gave his life for everyone.

Brothers and sisters, Jesus defends, knows and loves all of us. May Mary Most Holy help us be the first to welcome and follow the Good Shepherd, to joyfully cooperate in his mission.

[Pope Francis, Regina Coeli 25 April 2021]

«I Am the Gate of the sheep»

(Jn 10:1-10)

In the pastures, during the night the sheep were sheltered in stone enclosures on a slope and the shepherds (taking turns) placed themselves in defense of the flock by huddling in the position of the door down, armed with sticks, precisely as if they were a door, impassable for thieves and predators.

Life’s assiduity allowed the flock - even of different owners - to recognize the typical call and the voice of the corresponding shepherd. Not infrequently he designated each with an individual nickname (unrepeatable according to character).

In Jerusalem the great city Gates were opened in the morning and closed at sunset. They were fundamental points of urban social life, obligatory passages to enter and exit the walls.

After decades of deportation, the end of the Babylonian empire and the edict of Cyrus, the Sheep Gate was the first to be restored and the only one consecrated, because herds flowed through it to be sacrificed to the Temple.

Jesus takes a stand and explicitly denounces the abandonment’ situation of the true flock [the people] sacrificed to the interest and logic of the institution which is not interested in people's happiness but only in the defense of privileges.

He is the Shepherd who walks ahead (v.4); doesn’t hide behind the scenes: he takes risks personally. The Lord doesn’t come to take, but to give in abundance. Because God is looking for his people in shortage.

His is a Call by Name (v.3): He respects personal identity, doesn’t impose abstract or unsustainable rhythms, doesn’t force the times; He assesses the conditions of each.

For the authentic Shepherd there are no anonymous crowds.

Therefore He doesn’t close us within the ancient sacred enclosures (v.1 greek text) where mass obsessions lurk. Fences equipped with a guardian and gendarmes, where all are uniform - and the sensitive soul no longer breathes, kidnapped by opportunists (v.8).

From His Gate we can go out (vv.3-9). Indeed, it’s He who forces us to overcome it (v.3 greek text).

The authentic Guide leads to a different richness, more substantial pastures, unexpected amazements.

The true Shepherd obliges to make Exodus, pushing us (with force) out of the restricted sheepfolds.

The guide’s authoritativeness is confirmed both by the direct knowledge of the «guardian-gatekeeper» (v.3) and by that of the people, who recognize the Word, and follow it - pushed by that Call as by a thrill within.

Christ highlights the authority he has over the people, presenting Himself with the non-transitory formula «I Am» [full of eminent and profound resonances].

And actualizing, He specifies this expression with the metaphor of the Gate - not so much to close it, but above all to open it wide and let us pass.

In this way and unlike the old guides, the small flock follows Him not out of fear or calculation, as it would do with an inflexible master, but spontaneously.

Taking into account the presence of obstacles (without which we cannot grow) in the even excited journey, we will experience the invisible Friend as a Master of clarity, decision, constancy, flexibility, introspection.

Recognized in the Unknown Face that lurks within each of us, we will be made aware, motivated and free - so that we may be returned to Life.

[4th Sunday in Easter (year A), April 26, 2026]

«I am the Gate of the sheep»

(Jn 10:1-10)

In the pastures, during the night the sheep were penned in stone pens on a slope and the shepherds (in turn) stood in defence of the flock by huddling in the position of the doorway at the bottom, armed with sticks, as if it were a door, impassable to thieves and predators.

The custom of life enabled the flock - even of different owners - to recognise the typical call and voice of the corresponding shepherd. He not infrequently designated each one with an individual nickname (unrepeatable according to character).

In Jerusalem, the great Gates of the city were opened in the morning and closed at sunset. They were fundamental points of urban social life, obligatory passages to enter and exit the walls.

After decades of deportation, the end of the Babylonian empire and the edict of Cyrus, the Sheep Gate was the first to be restored and the only one consecrated, because through it flowed the herds to be sacrificed to the Temple.

Because of the social paralysis and alienation of the wretched, the motto 'restoring communion with God' - the criterion for the rebuilding of the Temple and the Holy City - meant for Jesus to take a different point of view.

He takes a stand and explicitly denounces the degradation of the true flock sacrificed to the interest and logic of the official religious institution, which is not interested in people's happiness but only in defending privileges.

The spiritual leaders of the ancient pious life were willing to do anything to secure their usual economic status, as well as visibility, prestige, protection of property and various securities.

Jn 5:2 indicates a pool with five porticoes along which the sick were laid "by the Sheep Gate". Wretches who due to supposed impurity did not have access to the Temple but were laid there awaiting a miracle.

According to the Lord, it is the institution that has to serve the sick and needy, instead of oppressing them through harassment and humbug, sweetened with impressive scripts.

He is the Shepherd who walks ahead (v.4); he does not hide behind the scenes: he risks himself. He does not come to take, but to give in abundance. For God seeks his people in penury.

His is a Calling by Name (v.3): he respects personal identity, he does not impose abstract or unbearable rhythms, he does not force timing; he assesses each person's condition.

For the authentic Shepherd, there are no anonymous crowds - to be milked, sheared, and directed down to the last detail. It is He who puts His face and pays.

So he does not enclose within the ancient sacred fences (v.1 Greek text) where mass obsessions lurk. Fences equipped with guardians and gendarmes, where one is homologated - and the sensitive soul no longer breathes, seized by opportunists, thieves and bandits (v.8).

From his Door we can go out (vv.3-9). On the contrary, it is He who forces us to overcome them (v.3 Greek text).

Does it seem unbelievable? It is the more of Faith: animated by the Spirit, believing that nothing escapes God's grasp.

In synergy with the inner Friend, every authentic Guide leads to a different richness, more substantial pastures, unexpected amazements.

The true Shepherd compels us to make an Exodus, pushing us (forcefully) out of the narrow sheepfolds - bounded and installed; interventionist or overflowing with sophistication, businessmen and faux-devotees - that we must now pass over.

For a new Birth, an ever new Encounter, a more significant experience of abundant and indestructible Life (v.10): that unheard of God totally other and totally near.

The leaders had an attitude of rejection of Jesus and the people. Strangers and greedy, they did not call people by name.

Instead, the authority of Christ is in service and for the life of the sick - in concern for the welfare of the people.

In the Lord's view, the authority of official leaders was not legitimate: because it was made up of climbing and ruthlessness, based on an interpretation of codes that did not liberate people but made them subservient - pigeonholed and incapable of reinventing themselves.

Their pursuit of advantage conflicted with the interests of the dispossessed, kept far away and in the fence. Jesus, on the other hand, makes himself a Gate, that is, a legitimate shepherd, who cares for the flock and knows it intimately.

He feels it to be His, and He comes not to serve and profit from it, but to make them happy - having a loving knowledge of each one. He is not a shepherd-king, but a life-giving shepherd.

The authoritativeness of the guide is corroborated both by the direct knowledge of the "gatekeeper-keeper" (v.3) and by that of the people, who recognise his Word, and follow him - driven by that call as by a tremor within.

Throughout the complex redaction of the Fourth Gospel, many believers had by then abandoned obedience to the law (as expounded by the rabbis): the old masters were no longer followed as before.

E.g. The man born blind does not accept the opinion of the albeit popular religious leaders (Jn 9) who accused the Master of being a sinner (v.24). Thus he embarks on a progressive journey of awareness and emancipation.

Christ emphasises the authority he has over the people, presenting himself with the non-transitory formula "I Am" [filled with eminent and profound resonances].

And bringing this expression up to date, he clarifies it with the metaphor of the Door - not so much to close it, but first of all to open it wide and let it pass.

In this way and unlike the old guides, the little flock follows him not out of fear or calculation, as they would an inflexible master, but spontaneously.

By taking into account the presence of obstacles (without which one does not grow) on the journey, even a frantic one, we will experience the invisible Friend as the Master of clarity, decision, constancy, flexibility, introspection.

Recognised in the unknown face within each one of us, we will be made closely aware, motivated and free - so that we are rendered to life.