There is evidence that he lives: you see him in the Shepherd
(Jn 10:1-10. 10:11-18 10:27-30)
The religious rule developed the idea that the Torah could cleanse the mind from errors, and the inclination of people from impurities - in order to chisel out a people pleasing to God.
Anything that disturbed the prescribed balance had to be immediately condemned and punished, as deleterious to fixed stability, mass cohesion, and its very efficiency.
The complete configuration of the unquestionable pious proposal and the very magnificence of the structures of official worship guaranteed the eloquence and imperturbability of the conditionings [on the misfits].
Insecurities and doubts were immediately branded as disturbing factors in the reassuring landscape, to be repressed from adolescence onwards.
The new Rebbe, however, did not want to sterilise emotions or situations. The inner world and anxieties were not to be silenced at all, but encountered and known.
On the other hand, looking around he realised (as we do today) that it was precisely in the mannered, observant or 'transgressive' people, the standard-bearers of ethics or events, who repressed spontaneous impulses or indulged in fashions... that subterfuges, concealed selfishness, sloth and disturbances increased.
Precisely those who approached the spiritual path by multiplying dirigisme, ethicism, activism, and control became exaggeratedly confrontational, and secretly unreliable.
Burdened with suffocating norms, the naive people were reduced to unhappiness; all felt restlessness and parchedness - precisely because the obsession with sin or non-performance prevented the integration of desires.
Everything that had to be reduced and annihilated for reasons of social and votary conformity, ended up penetrating souls in a more intimate way, resurfacing here and there in a paradoxical way, with duplicity and imbalances - these were very serious.
Authentic Jesus the Guide was a 'friend of publicans and sinners' in the sense that he taught to broaden the harmony of the creaturely being, and to learn to look without prejudice; to treasure various experiences, even opposing ones: of everything that emerges even in the inner world.
The perfection he preached was in the imperfection and irrationality of love - which everywhere gathers pearls of experience.
Indeed, according to the True Shepherd, it was precisely important to be troubled, rather than impassive or confident: to learn over time to make sense even of the signs that worry the conformist or à la page mentality - thus completing ourselves.
The authentic Master and Friend knows that - by learning to welcome, not to establish - only what touches, involves and upsets us personally will succeed in shifting our gaze, to grow and exodus towards fertile pastures; the land of freedom, even of relationships.
In a speech in April '68 Paul VI asked himself:
"Who is Jesus? Jesus is the Good Shepherd. We are invited by the Lord himself to think of him in this way: an extremely lovable, sweet, close figure. By presenting himself in this aspect, he repeats the invitation of the shepherd: that is, he draws a relationship that smacks of tenderness and wonder. He knows his sheep, and calls them by name. Because we are of his flock, he knows and appoints us; he approaches each one of us and desires to bring us into a loving, filial relationship with him. The Lord's goodness is revealed here in a sublime, ineffable manner'.
In a general audience in March '75 the Pontiff encouraged us to 'give a tone of courage to Christian life, private and public, so as not to become insignificant on a spiritual level and even complicit in the collapse. The cross is always raised before us: it calls us to vigour'.
The Bishop of Rome intended to urge us not to live by mediation and concordism.
Despite appearances, it is this second quotation that is most pertinent to describe the character of the liturgy of the Word on the Fourth Sunday of Easter; let us see why.
We are used to imagining Jesus as the Shepherd surrounded by the flock with a sheep on his shoulders or in his arms. Such is the reproduction of the parable of Lk 15 and Mt 18.
As an alternative to the Synoptics, the Fourth Gospel speaks of the distinguishing feature of Jesus as the true Shepherd, taking its cue from the bold character of David in the episode reported in 1 Sam 17:32-36:
"David said to Saul, 'Let no one lose heart because of this man. Your servant will go and fight with this Philistine'. Saul replied to David: "You cannot go against this Philistine and fight with him: you are a boy and he is a man of arms from his teens". But David said to Saul: "Your servant used to graze his father's flock and sometimes a lion or a bear would come and take a sheep from the flock. Then I pursued him, and struck him down, and snatched the sheep from his mouth. If he turned against me, I would seize him by the jaws, strike him down, and kill him. Thy servant has slain the lion and the bear".The 'Shepherd the Beautiful' [in the oriental sense of charming but also authentic, true and righteous, strong and bold] of John 10 does not caress the flock. As Pope Francis would say: 'He is not combing the sheep!
He is rather the guide and protector who not only defies the elements, but above all is not afraid of ferocious animals, who want to take advantage of even one sheep.
He does not put his tail between his legs in front of the beasts, and if he does, he snatches the prey from the jaws of the gangs of wolves [sometimes disguised as lambs and men of God; very dangerous people, dealers in illusion].
In the past Sundays, the Gospels have highlighted how we can also see the Risen One today.
In the Thomas episode, how he manifests himself in the community gathered for worship; last week, how to perceive him on a weekday and in the ordinary surroundings where daily life takes place.
Today we can see how the Risen One reveals Himself in a flesh-and-blood 'shepherd', who decides not to be a parlor trinket - and not to wag his tail if some bully or fake master comes along.
S. Augustine writes: 'You man must recognise what you were, where you were, to whom you were subject [...] you were entrusted to a mercenary who, when the wolf came, did not protect you [...] This shepherd is not like the mercenary under whom you were when your misery plagued you and you had to fear the wolf'.
Glad tidings of the Easter season are that our lives as saved are secured by the resolute intrepidity of brothers who, like Jesus (only here similar to David), are not afraid to fight, even to the point of exposing themselves to protect the voiceless of the flock.
Authentic shepherd is the one who has the guts to stand up to both counterfeiters and marauders, to snatch the bewildered and helpless from their claws.
His credibility is recognisable from the decisive voice, which does not allow itself to be silenced by blackmail. He does not allow himself to be frightened by the wolves, nor does he allow himself to be cowed by the lack of social hold.
His Word-event prolongs the creative activity of the Father, which restores life, enriches life, rejoices in the lives of his children.
This is his Beauty, that is, his fullness of Love that persists, filling us with meaning - in the time of transhumance and in the change of seasons.
"The Shepherd, the beautiful one, lays down his life for the sheep" (v.11): He has a style that overturns the chain of command.
In this way, the Master never invited anyone [not even among the apostles] to be a 'shepherd', that is, one who directs and commands the flock.
His intimates are called to be 'fishers of men'. Interested in the reality of people.
Not 'directors', but putting oneself at the service of the life and freedom of those who are unfortunately entangled in suffocating abysses, dangerous whirlpools of death.
The sheepfold of the shepherds of Palestine was a dry-stone fence, over which brambles were allowed to grow or bundles of thorns were placed, to prevent both sheep and thieves from climbing over it.
The little wall could delimit a space in front of a house, or in the case of staying outdoors, along a slope. In such a case, it could be a night shelter for several flocks and several shepherds.
One of them kept watch in turn, standing at the entrance to the enclosure, barring access - as if it were a door. He stood there armed with a stick made more effective by splinters of stone embedded in it.
In the morning, each flock would spontaneously recompose itself at the sole voice of its shepherd, which - due to the fact that they spent a lot of time together in isolated places - was immediately recognised.
The sheep followed him, confident that they were being led to pastures and oases.
The brave 'shepherd' knows the sheep passionately, 'one by one' - but there are many bandits who still intend to take advantage.
To them one is as good as the other - they are not willing to fight, except for prestige. Nor do they have any knowledge of our 'name'.
Conversely, in the Lord's thinking there are no anonymous masses, but rather persons; souls that are all significant.
He takes into account the character and possibilities of each one. He understands our difficulties; he does not force times, he respects individual rhythms.
Religious and political leaders of the time - flatterers and true marauders - did not cherish the merits and labours of each of their subjects.
They pose as sacred benefactors; seeking only their own benefit - even through their apparent relief work.
Despite the clamorous appearances that were intended to emphasise the rank they had attained, their goal and methods were marked by the lust for affirmation, by exclusive self-interest and class.
Christ distinguishes Himself from the impostors, smugglers, who wanted to drag the people to exploitation, depersonalisation, bewilderment, then to complete subordination - not only of the imagination.He who in the midst of the din of so many voices becomes hostage to external convictions, is plagued and can no longer reactivate his own Exodus.
So he would always have to borrow.
But slipping one's soul and life into the armour of others, already made up, does not fulfil the unrepeatable vocation; it does not make the innocent happy.
Whoever follows Jesus not only enters, but also "comes out" (v.9) of the "sacred enclosure": a trap that was chiselled to exploit the naive and shaky.
In Him, we are made autonomous, true, free; able to walk on our own legs, thus able to activate paths of a humanity that is perhaps still distant.
Educated in the 'Son of Man' to feel adequate, to live intensely and cheerfully in the existence of others too, we no longer feel any need for humiliating paternalism.
In Jesus' time, if the shepherd was a wage earner, when faced with grave danger [e.g. bandits, or large wild beasts] he was allowed to flee.
And he did so gladly, because the flock did not belong to him.
In short, those who adhere to the minimum obligations set by the 'contract' are not really involved - they do not care about anything, neither about Christ's proposal nor about people.
On the other hand, genuine love does not stop; it has no boundaries: "one flock, one shepherd" (v.16).
That is to say: everyone is called to be involved; blessed, and 'perfect' in terms of their own mission.
"The 'only shepherd' in the Gospels is not the Pope, nor any Patriarch. Not even a small local prince-feudal lord.
But the whole flock, ministering without exception - in Christ destined for the fullness of life in freedom (vv.17-18).
Jesus is a genuine Shepherd because he is not afraid to lay down his life in defence of his brothers.
He is the strong man who does not let his helpless ones be torn from his hands (v.28): he does not allow us to be lost.
Perhaps it is not even so easy for us to give in, to be saved, to let ourselves be accompanied, transported, guided by the inner Friend.
Yet, despite our lack of docility, salvation is guaranteed: by his unconditional initiative.
This is the reliable pivot of our adventure: women and men who in such a nuptial and creative relationship make the leap from religious sense to Faith.
This is the great news, the good news that we proclaim.
Our vocational root is not shaken by shortcomings.
God's enemy is not sin, therefore, but the lulling of illusions and the following of charlatans; or malfeasance, interest, self-satisfaction, which take root and spread precisely in shadowy areas and in the cordons you do not expect.
It is not easy to trust Christ and with Him be in communion with the Father (v.30) as the one People of God, laity and clergy.
He does not cheat: he does not promise careers, honours, titles, roles, candyfloss, easy life, triumphs, accolades, and shortcuts.
Sometimes the beasts come and you don't mess around; you have to decide and - why not - sometimes be tough.
I remember years ago a massacre of sheep in the Accumoli area - not too far from me.
When the old women became aware of the wolves, they stood in a circle around the lambs, and were mauled - to save their young.
In religions, respect for veterans - not infrequently business partners with some idol passed off as 'God' - is paramount.
They demand to be defended, protected, served and revered; whatever nefariousness they have done or are still cultivating in their souls.
That is why - as I said - the Master never invited anyone to be a 'shepherd' (the one who directs and commands the flock).
His intimates are called to be 'fishers of men'.
Not 'directors', but putting themselves at the service of the life and freedom of those who are unfortunately entangled in suffocating abysses, dangerous whirlpools of death.
Strange to see in history how all Christian denominations were immediately filled with 'pastors' (who do not give up).
"The Shepherd, the good Shepherd, lays down his life for the sheep" (v.11): He has a style that overturns the greedy, pyramidal chain of command.
Good Shepherd People
The defence of the little flock, and the whole people becoming Shepherds
(Jn 10:11-18)
At the beginning of ch.10 Jn lays bare the difference between true shepherd and thief [rapacious and profiteering false teachers who do not care about the lives of others].
The authentic guide cares for the tiny 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.
The 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 have given or risked 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 such subtlety of concrete intelligence, here is the goal at which Jesus aims in the Gift of Himself: it is the People themselves who will become Shepherds (v.16b).
So, too, the flock-shepherd of Christ will not dodge the blows, nor will they be passive and conformist - but like Him: bold and outriding.
This surprise adds a further opening of horizon, which we would call universal ecclesiology.
A disturbing prospect for opportunists and those satiated with the 'buildings' set up by religion - and its inducements - alarmed only by those built 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 fraternities of Living Faith 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, opposed to superstitions and credulity among which he also counted Christianity, bears indirect and paradoxical testimony to why the unexpected proposal of Sharing from 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-vertical, non-exclusive, rather capable of happy coexistence - to be based on the popular heart, 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 something 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 a Hellenistic, individualistic, self-made man, as well as for the very image of a friend of God who deserved 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 'leaders' in Christ were indeed beginning to supplant the credibility of the other more culturally renowned leaders, who were nevertheless far less interested in the reality of people.
In the lives of the '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.
The most of Faith?
Not the fine manners. Rather, the cue and freshness of one who lays down his life without backtracking, to defend the innocent, the ultimate.
No dirigisme.
To internalise and live the message:
In your community, do you feel judged on external perfections, and hunted down by judging wolves, or valued personally, and on the path to all-round completeness?
They just go together
The Gospel we heard on this Sunday is only a part of Jesus' great discourse on the 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 briefly recall the earlier 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 when he says: "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 so 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 scattered tribes of Israel (cf. Ez 34:22-24), it is now not only about the unification of scattered Israel, but 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 recognises 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 has taken 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 you and carry you every day; May He help you to become, through Him and with Him, good shepherds of His flock. Amen!
[Pope Benedict, homily for priestly ordination 7 May 2006].