I Know Mine & Mine Know Me

4th Sunday of Easter

Good Shepherd Sunday, the fourth Sunday of Easter, was celebrated a few days ago in Catholic churches across the world. This was no different in the little chapel where my family celebrates Mass with a small congregation – flock, I should say – led by our Friar and his merry band of Franciscan brothers.

In his homily, Friar focused on the titular line (John 10:14, from the Gospel reading that day). He shared that the shepherd-sheep relationship is so strong that the animals can recognise – and will follow – their master simply from the particular timbre of his call. He likened it to the family dog being able to pick out the particular engine hum of his returning master’s car amidst that of all the other vehicles in the neighbourhood – the family dog who is excitedly and eagerly waiting at the gate even before his master steps out of the car.

Friar then asked us to consider if we knew our God – our master, our Good Shepherd -that well. (Dramatic pause while the flock pondered.)

With typical cradle-Catholic guilt, I searched myself and initially felt ashamed. Then I realised that, even though I may not always consciously try to know my God (better), I still know that He never stops being my God, even when I am more of a goat than a sheep (the former don’t listen, and often need to be prodded to go where the goatherd wants them to go – unlike obedient sheep).

I know this from the daily bread that He provides, just as the sheep are brought out daily to graze.

I know this from the roof over my head that He has blessed me with, just as the sheep lie down safe in a cave or hovel while the shepherd stands watch (this is shepherding in the Holy Land, where there may not be many constructed sheep pens).

I know this from the many times He has guided me through rough patches as I homed in on His grace, just as the sheep instinctively follow their master’s voice.

Then Friar said that merely knowing our Lord is not enough. The head knowledge (which could be the ability to cite chapter and verse) must be accompanied by loving action – the kind that mirrors what our Good Shepherd does for us. (Again, dramatic pause for thought.)

Have I been a good shepherd to the flock He has entrusted to me: my family, my students, my friends, those in need? It’s a mixed score card, to be honest. But I am glad to be reminded of how important my earthly vocations are, and I must keep putting in effort so that I can strive to provide the love and care to others that my heavenly Good Shepherd gives to me daily.