Think and Feel with the Church

Fourth Sunday of Easter Year C
Good Shepherd Sunday
Pilgrimage 13 - (Anticipated Mass in Lisbon)

As we come to the end of our pilgrimage, I would like to thank all of you for being good sheep that have listened attentively and obediently to the voice of your shepherd. Some would call it blind docility. Others would call it basic survival skills. Whatever may have been the reason for your exquisite cooperation, it has been a blessing and a privilege to have guided you through this entire journey of faith and discovery. We are thankful that we have lost no one on this trip.

What has been the secret of us staying safe, staying focused, staying on the right path? Our Lord provides us with the answer: “The sheep that belong to me listen to my voice.” Listening is at the heart of the Christian life. But if we wish to listen, we should start with obeying. Obedience comes from the Latin “to listen” (obedire). Obedience, according to St Augustine, is “the mother and guardian of all other virtues.” It ensures a life of goodness because it entails hearing and following God, the source of all goodness. This obedience is not for some in the Church but for all, from the child kneeling in the pew to the Pope presiding in Rome.

God alone is this obedience owed and given, but it is given to God through the Church because God gives Himself to us through the Church. Here is where many begin to engage in hypocritical casuistry. Some would claim that they are obedient to God but not to men, like the Pope or bishops, or man-made institutions like the Church. But God places us in a Church as a part of the body where Christ is the head, and we are the parts. This is why our Lord chose not to appear to Thomas in the gospel of Divine Mercy Sunday until he was prepared to return to the community of believers, the Church. As much as the Church is maligned and judged for the failures of her shepherds and members, there is no denying that our Lord instituted the Church to be the redemptive tool of the world, to continue to shepherd His flock, with Him as the Head and the body, with all its different parts working together to bring redemption to the world.

One phrase that captures this principle of listening to the voice of the Shepherd through His Church is, “to think with the Church;” or, in St Ignatius of Loyola’s formulation, sentire cum ecclesia. “Sentire”, of course, is not simply “to think,” which in English is often meant in a cold, rational way. Other words that are used to translate sentire are sense, feel, and perceive. “Feel” is a great translation that can also carry connotations of “think” except that “feel” can also imply the lack of rational thought.

What does it really mean to “think with the Church”? For one thing, thinking with the Church means giving a unique respect to our bishops and to the Pope. A filial love for our shepherds is a necessary expression of wanting to listen intimately to the voice of the Good Shepherd. We must, however, acknowledge that sometimes shepherds speak with their own voices rather than with that of Christ and the Holy Spirit. And this is the reason why confusion, heresy and even schism can break the unity of the Church and disrupt her mission.

We must, therefore, make a distinction between what is and is not meant to think and feel with the Church. First, it might be helpful to describe what the Church is not. The lay faithful are not pawns who are to take marching orders from their priests and bishops, nor bishops from the Pope. The Church is not a secret organisation where information (or revelation) is possessed in full only at the top and then is distributed selectively and imperfectly throughout. To think with the Church does not mean “to let the Church think for you.” Discernment is required.

But discernment without a guide or standard may lead us to error, that is to substitute Christ’s teachings with our own personal opinions. This, then, is precisely why the Magisterium, the teaching authority of the Church as a guardian and servant of Sacred Scripture and Sacred Tradition, is so necessary if one desires to think with the Church. Magisterial interventions serve to guarantee the Church’s unity in the truth of the Lord. They aid her to ‘abide in the truth’ in the face of the arbitrary character of changeable opinions and are an expression of obedience to the Word of God. The Magisterium exists precisely for the purpose of ensuring that the Church can authoritatively distinguish what derives from faith and what is merely an opinion. Even Popes and bishops must submit to the Magisterium as faithful servants as much as they are the very teachers whose teaching authority flows therefrom.

Episcopal and papal authority depends on obedience to what has been revealed and handed down by means of the Holy Spirit. To be a teacher of the faith is first and foremost to be a learner of it. Though bishops and the Pope have specific teaching roles, the whole Church is a listening Church, a learning Church and so the whole Church is the teaching Church. Our mission is to conform to what has been taught so that we in turn may be true teachers of the word. A person ceases to be a teacher of the faith when he ceases to let himself be instructed by universal tradition. Our teaching must be shaped by our obedience to universal tradition and never by our own ideas, by our own standing, or by our own times. This is what it means to listen to the Good Shepherd instead of talking or shouting over Him.

During his papacy, Pope Francis proposed that we follow the synodal path of becoming a listening church. That is indeed a noble idea. But to be truly listening, we must first be ready to listen to our Lord who has spoken through scripture and Tradition through the ages. If not, we will end up listening to the spirit of the world, instead of the Spirit of Christ and be misled ourselves and in turn lead others astray. We can have a listening Church only if we have an obeying Church. Obey; listen; proclaim. God has spoken; our task is to hear that Word and speak from it. We are not to speak from our times but to our times from God’s Word. Only then, can we be assured of being partakers of eternal life and not be lost.

As we depart from Lisbon for home, continue to listen carefully to the voice of the Shepherd in whatever situation you may find yourself. You came here as pilgrims. You will leave here as missionaries bringing the good news of Jesus Christ with you to the ends of the earth. But first, let us start with our neighbourhood and parish!

A shepherd's work is never done

Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

Recently I came across this ditty which is made up of stanzas alternating between the voice of the shepherds and that of their sheep. It is interesting to see how the two perspectives are at variance. Here’s a sampling of the first two stanzas:

Shepherds:
Morning to dusk our watch we keep, tending our flock of precious sheep, near and far they love to roam, then one by one we count them home.

Sheep:
A shepherd’s work is never done while naughty sheep are having fun, high and low we love to roam, then one by one we come back home.

Although there is a tinge of realisation by the sheep (and perhaps subdued appreciation) of the thankless never-ending work of the shepherds, and the tale seems to end on a happy note when the sheep finally decide to return home, the naughty sheep persist in “having fun” and roaming “high and low” with little regard for the former’s sweat and toil. But what really surprises me about this song is the utter joy of the shepherds who seem to cherish and enjoy their work, without minding the long hours nor the delinquent wards under their care. No complaints, just pure joy which springs from the authentic love they have for their sheep.

Even as I read the lyrics of this song with amusement, there is a sense of guilt. I’m nothing like the shepherds in this song, what more the Good Shepherd, our Lord Jesus Christ, whom I am called to emulate. I want to be honest, the line which says “a shepherd’s work is never done,” most closely resonates with me but it sounds more like a complaint rather than a statement of fact: “no rest for the wicked.” Sometimes, attending to the needs of the congregation can be so tiring, especially those requiring high maintenance. And being an introvert, my social battery and energy levels dissipate at such speed whenever I am around people, which is to say most of the time. God knows that I need space and time for myself to recuperate and rejuvenate.

But today’s readings seem to throw another wrench into my plans to have a break and some down-time. From the first reading to the gospel, we see how our Lord doesn’t let up in caring and shepherding those in need. It is not that the human Jesus never tires. Just like the Energiser Bunny, even our Lord, fully human as well as divine, would suffer the fatigue that comes to all of us. But does He walk away? Does He give excuses by citing that He needs time to Himself? Does He abdicate His responsibility and push the load of His work to others? The answer is simply “no.”

You all may remember that the Fourth Sunday of Easter in each lectionary cycle is known as Good Shepherd Sunday. But today is an opportunity for all of us (and I’m including myself in this equation) to revisit the theme of the Good Shepherd and what it means to be sheep as well as shepherd in imitation of our Lord. These readings and the underlying message aren’t just aimed at us priests and lay leaders. All of us Christians are the sheep, and Jesus is the Shepherd. But you too are called to be shepherds in different ways - parents, leaders, service providers, teachers, employers, managers, just to name a few. Before we can be good shepherds who lead the way for others, we must first be sheep who know and follow the Shepherd’s voice ourselves.

From the first reading, we are assured that God, the good shepherd, will never abandon His people. In the face of human shepherds who had forsaken their flock, the prophecy of Jeremiah foretells a time when the Lord Himself will shepherd His people through His own shepherd, a king in the line of David. The promise shimmers between God as Himself the shepherd and His representative being the shepherd. We finally see the fulfilment of this prophecy in the person of Jesus Christ, the Anointed One of God who is God Himself.

Too often have we suffered abandonment in our lives at the hands of those whom we have trusted, those who have sworn to have our backs, to care for us, to protect us. And yet so many of us have known the pain of betrayal in the form of an absent parent, an absent mentor, an absent friend, or even an absent pastor. But here is One who will never abandon us no matter what the cost may be. He now calls us to follow Him and imitate Him in being vigilant at our station, to never abandon our post or abdicate our duty. We are called to be faithful shepherds just like Him, to be present, courageous and steadfast in guarding those placed under our care.

The second characteristic of the good shepherd comes from the second reading - we are called to be unifiers. In a hyper-polarised society, where we are often forced to swear allegiance to parties, factions and ideologies, and called to adjudicate between warring parties we must always stand with the Lord and for the Lord. And what does the Lord stand for? St Paul tells us that our Lord has come to bring peace and reconciliation among enemies. The two groups of Christians, sprung from Jews and gentiles, which formerly were so much at loggerheads, are united by the blood of Christ and the single Spirit to form the single New Man which is Christ’s Body, the Church. We as shepherds after the heart of Jesus must do likewise, constantly bringing people together rather than sowing division.

Finally, our Lord shows us in the gospel that shepherds like His disciples need time and space to be rejuvenated. When they return to give a report of their exploits after their first missionary expedition, our Lord recognises their human needs - they are weary, tired and hungry. Rather than subject them to more gruelling activity, He invites them with these words: “You must come away to some lonely place all by yourselves and rest for a while.” This is not any ordinary R & R, rest and relax, but necessary time to retreat and recollect (that’s our version of R & R), to spend time with the Lord in order to be rejuvenated, revitalised and re-created. Not only sheep need feeding. Shepherds need it too.

Though our Lord never said “no” to any cry for help or appeal for assistance as can be seen at the end of the gospel passage, He understands that Christianity is not just a non-stop flurry of activities. There can be no love of God, no true love of self, nor love of others, without that stillness and silence which makes us receptive to them all. Prayer is the fuel which powers our sense of mission. Without it, we would be running on empty, the shepherd’s work would feel like a heavy chore rather than something to be cherished and celebrated.

So, even as we struggle to imitate our Lord as a good shepherd, to be faithful to whatever and whoever has been entrusted to us, to not abdicate our responsibilities for selfish reasons or choose to flee when things get tough and rough, it is comforting to always remember that we are sheep who have a Shepherd who is always there for us, strengthening us, guiding us, protecting us and cleaning up after us when we have made a mess of things. He is that Shepherd whose “work is never done.”

He lays down His Life

Fourth Sunday of Easter Year B
Good Shepherd Sunday

What do priests talk about when we meet up with each other? Well, here’s a little secret. We talk about our sheep or to be more precise, we often end up complaining about them. I guess that when the sheep get into their own discussion circles, the performance of priests make good fodder for discussion and gossip. In paintings of Jesus the Good Shepherd, He is often depicted, cuddling cute adorable lambs. But the reality is that many members of our flocks are hardly adorable or cute, and certainly not someone you would enjoy cuddling. Perhaps, we may even be tempted at times to strangle them, especially the more incorrigible and annoying ones. Occasionally, some of us confess that there were times we doubted whether we had chosen the right profession, that we should have gotten out if we had the chance to do so.

This Sunday in our liturgical calendar, is a much needed wake up call for us priests, shepherds of souls, as well as an assurance that there is a Shepherd who would not suffer the same weaknesses as us. Here is a Shepherd who is willing to “lay down His life” for His sheep, even though His sheep sets out to murder Him. His selfless generosity exposes our depraved selfishness.

Here are some qualities of the good shepherd that stands out in today’s gospel. I’m not sure if you see your priests fitting the bill. If he doesn’t, do offer up a prayer for him. If that doesn’t work, you can always petition the bishop!

The relationship between the shepherd and his sheep is not just the result of a job; it is deeper than that. If it was a mere job, then one would be constantly seeking benefits from fulfilling one’s responsibilities. And if the benefits do not commensurate with the responsibility, we would immediately see it as a burden.

The shepherd is also a leader. With much talk about the importance of accompaniment, of walking together with others as equals, we often lose sight of the necessity for good leadership. The good shepherd leads his sheep; he does not just accompany them on whatever path they feel inspired to follow. Not only does he lead them, but he leads them “to pasture,” that is to good food. He ensures that his sheep are fed well with the complete revelation of Jesus Christ through Sacred Scripture and Sacred Tradition rather than survive on watered down mush passed off as truth. He ensures that they are fed with sanctifying grace through faithful celebration of the sacraments, rather than only when it is convenient and expedient to do so.

But the most distinctive quality of the Good Shepherd is that He is willing and actually does lay down His life for His sheep. If the gospel was turned into a song, this would be the resounding theme and refrain: “I lay down my life for my sheep.” Which shepherd would sacrifice and risk his own life for a single sheep? He would rather sacrifice and lose a sheep to a wolf than to lose his own life or the entire herd. But here is the greatest quality of the Good Shepherd. He is one who is willing to suffer, out of love, for those entrusted to His care. He is one who chooses the life of the sheep over His own life. At the heart of this teaching is sacrifice. The Good Shepherd is sacrificial. And being sacrificial is the truest and most accurate definition of love.

It is only through our Lord’s sacrificial death on the cross for our sins and His glorious resurrection to life eternal, that we are able to enter into the presence of God the Most High. In a relativistic world, where it is argued, that one religion is just as good as another, we Christians make this audacious but true claim - Jesus alone is Saviour. Jesus alone is the gate, the entrance point, to eternal life with God. St Peter declares this truth in the first reading taken from the Acts of the Apostles: “For of all the names in the world given to men, this is the only one by which we can be saved” (Acts 4:12). This is the reason why our Lord laid down His life for us, not just for those now counted among the fold that knows Him but also those others who have been entrusted to Him, who still do not know Him.

But His sacrifice also gives us an example of what we must do as His followers called to imitate His life. Laying down our lives shows that the nature of love is a total self-gift. Laying down your life cannot be done halfway. Either your life is laid down or not. This reveals that love, for it to be love in the truest sense, is a total commitment of 100% of your life. Love if not sacrificial is counterfeit. Laying down your life clearly shows that love requires a sort of death to self. You have to be stripped down so that all that remains is Christ who shines through you and works through you, you are a mere vessel in His service. It requires that we look to the other first, putting their needs before ours. This requires true sacrifice and selflessness.

In this year’s Chrism Mass of our Archdiocese, our shepherd Archbishop Julian Leow delivered a most stirring homily. He asked this question that seems to be on everyone’s mind as we witness the decline of vocations to the priesthood and religious life: “Are we in a crisis?” He then follows his rhetoric question with an answer: “We are not, but all signs show that we are heading in that direction if we sit back and do nothing. If there is a crisis now, it is a crisis of commitment and generosity to selflessness that is seen in all states of life.”

Yes, we are suffering from a crisis that goes beyond the plunging number of vocations. It is the crisis of a lack of generosity and commitment to selflessness. Whether it be in marriage or in a religious or priestly life, the crisis is a crisis of generosity and commitment. We demand a great deal from others but make little effort to make sacrifices, if at all. In any crisis, we can either choose to be selfish or to be selfless. To flee from danger out of self-preservation or to lay down one’s life for others out of love. That is the choice we must make! Too few are willing to “lay down” their lives for others. We are afraid to give because we are afraid to lose.

But the bottom line is that giving of ourselves until it hurts turns any small or large sacrifice we give into a blessing for others and a glorious reward for us. The truth of the matter is that by giving out of love, we have so much more to gain. Too often people have remarked in my presence that we priests have made such a great sacrifice by accepting this sacred vocation. How often was I tempted to reply, not out of some false humility but rather gratitude, that I have become so much the richer as a priest than before - spiritually richer that is! And how I am edified and inspired too by the sacrifices made by married couples to each other and parents to their children. Living a sacrificial life is fulfilling on many levels and is ultimately what we are made for. So, do not hesitate to commit yourself to this depth of love. By giving yourself completely away, you find yourself and discover Eternal Life in the presence of our Divine Lord, the Good Shepherd, who “lays down his life for his sheep.”

Pray, Act and Be Sent

Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

The evangelist paints this poignant picture of the Lord and how His shepherd’s heart is moved with pity when He sees the crowds “because they were harassed and dejected, like sheep without a shepherd.” Our Lord is describing the condition of man apart from God, he is like “sheep without a shepherd.” The Jewish people of that day did indeed have some kind of spiritual guides and shepherds, namely the scribes, priests, Levites, and Pharisees. Yet for the most part they were worthless.

Then our Lord uses another imagery, He moves from a pastoral to an agrarian metaphor: “the harvest is rich but the labourers are few.” Both imageries evoke two different but not unrelated pictures: a neglected flock of sheep, and a harvest going to waste for lack of reapers. Both imply, not only a pitiful plight of the people, but a blameworthy neglect of duty on the part of their religious guides.

So, what is the solution? What can we do in such a dark situation where the problem seems so much larger than any solution we can muster? It is common for many to feel hapless and powerless and merely resign themselves to the dire situation which is beyond their control. Rather than what most people would do, which is to just feel sorry about the other’s predicament, our Lord goes beyond mere sentiments and good intentions. He prays and He acts.

Prayer must always come first instead of being a last resort. We often buy into the lie that prayer is a backup plan when all our resources are exhausted and plans fail. But, prayer should always be the first thing we must do in any situation. Since the harvest belongs to the Lord of the Harvest, we are commanded to pray that He would send workers to reap His harvest. The English translation “send” does not do justice to the original Greek word. The Greek is much more forcible, it is that He would push them forward, compel them and thrust them out; it is the same word which is used for the expulsion of a devil from a man possessed. It takes great power to drive a devil out, it will need equal power from God to drive a Christian out from his comfort zone to do his mission.

Prayer is never a replacement for action. It does not push the buck to God so as to exonerate one from taking responsibility. Our Lord acts and answers the very prayer which He tells His disciples to do. He tells His disciples to ask the Lord of the Harvest to send more labourers and He as the Lord of the Harvest now sends them out.

The scene of our Lord calling the Twelve and sending them out with authority recalls the scene in the first reading, where God calls Moses to ascend Mount Sinai to receive the Law from God. But instead of Moses, we have here, someone greater than Moses. In fact this is the Word that leapt down from the heavens, this is the One whom Moses encountered in the clouds that covered the mountaintop, and from His hands, Moses received the Ten Commandments, the One who is the author of that Law. In the case of Moses, the rest of Israel had to remain at the foot of the mountain and only Moses was given safe passage. But now in this scene, our Lord summons the Twelve to come to Him, they will be the foundation of the new Israel, an Israel that will not be kept at a distance but a new Israel who will have God in their midst.

The new Israel is the Church, “a kingdom of priests, a consecrated nation.” The Greek word for Church is Ekklesia which comes from the Greek verb, ekkaleo, which means “to summon” or “to call out.” And so we see here our Lord summoning the Twelve and they come to Him. It is a reminder that to be a member of the Church is a vocation. God takes the initiative by calling us, we merely respond. The Church is not man-made. It is God-initiated. If it was man-made it would not be worth our time and effort.

The mission of the Twelve and that of the Church is two-fold. First, they are called to be with the Lord, to be His companions. That is essential. What they are to be and what they are to do, would ultimately be defined by their relationship with Christ. Without Christ, they are nothing. They were to be with their Lord not only in the mountain-top periods, but also during the worst of times in which He was abandoned, mocked, rejected and crucified. Ultimately, they were with Him after the resurrection as eyewitnesses of the Risen Lord who had defeated death. The testimony of these Apostolic witnesses was necessary to confirm that the Church which is built on Apostolic foundation is not just a human organisation but the mystical Body of Christ.

The second part of that mission is to preach the Good News, which includes the liberating power of the gospel to set mankind free from evil. The Church is essentially missionary. She exists to preach the gospel in both word and deed. When the Church ceases to preach the Word and substitutes it with some social justice advocacy and work, she ceases to be the Church. When this happens, she is no different from any other NGO. She will be doing good work, no doubt about it, but it would be the work of man for men, not the work of God - Opus Dei - for the salvation of souls.

Were these men called to lay the foundations of the Church exceptional by any standard? Hardly. Our Lord called men, not angels. They came from different backgrounds, with different personalities, and yet they were all chosen to serve the Lord in a unique and special way. For the most part, these men were average, ordinary men. In fact, their résumés would not have landed them lucrative or influential positions among society. Many of them proved to be failures and even one, was responsible for betraying our Lord and another denied Him at His hour of need. As someone once said, “the Lord doesn’t call the equipped or those with abilities; He equips the called, and seeks availability.”

And so, as we are often disappointed and sometimes even scandalised by the conduct of the members and leaders of the Church, we must remember that the Church, the beautiful Bride of Christ, His Mystical Body, is also a Church made up of sinful and imperfect members. But knowing that should not deter us from running into her arms and seek her loving care. For to turn our backs on the Church, would mean to turn our backs on Christ who called us to be His faithful companions to carry on the mission of preaching the gospel to the ends of the earth. And the Church continues to do this because she is not man-made, but divinely instituted!

So, when we witness bad shepherds who neglect their duty and abuse their flock, what should we do? Harbour resentment, trash the Church or turn our backs on the Bride of Christ? The answer can be found in listening to our Lord and imitating what He did - pray that the Lord of the Harvest will send more labourers; and then listen to His call, to His command to “go... and as you go, proclaim that the kingdom of heaven is close at hand. Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out devils. You received without charge, give without charge.”

The Voice of the Shepherd

Fourth Sunday of Easter Year A
Good Shepherd Sunday

Preparing a homily can be a real uphill task. Not because we lack inspiration or the words of scripture are dull and uninspiring. On the contrary, there is so much fodder in scriptures to build upon. The real challenge is our audience and their receptivity or lack of it: Do I tell them what they want to hear or do I tell them the truth?

Sadly, in our culture today, these two options are often mutually exclusive. The truth is hard to hear, so we prefer to hear what we like, even if it’s not what we need. Ours is an age that flourishes in compromise, steadfastness to the truth is hardly tolerated. Thus, the pastor is often faced with tension of either preaching the uncomfortable truth of God’s Word or watering it down to make it more agreeable to the listener. As it says in 2 Timothy 4:3, “The time is sure to come when people will not accept sound teaching, but their ears will be itching for anything new and they will collect themselves a whole series of teachers according to their own tastes.” Sadly, we are living in such times!

Here’s the paradox of preaching: If I were to tell the audience what they do not wish to hear, would I risk not having my voice recognised as the sheep recognises the voice of the shepherd? Or if I choose to pander to the crowd and tell them what they want to hear, am I not robbing them of their right to receive “sound teaching”? In this sense, would I not be more a “brigand”, a robber, than a shepherd?

On this Good Shepherd Sunday, I want to set out several uncomfortable topics which are listed by the readings as sine qua non to the preacher’s arsenal of homiletic themes. As much as these topics seem unpopular and triggering, they provide the necessary nutritious sustenance to our hungering flock. To provide them with anything less or innovatively different would either be to starve them of solid spiritual food or provide them with theological indigestion.

First on the list is everyone’s favourite - Sin! Now you may think that this is stating the obvious - isn’t sin one of the essential themes of religion? It is but the truth is that in recent times, most of us attempt to skirt the topic or try to soften it by using some wish-washy euphemistic substitute. We preach consoling, encouraging and invigorating sermons but avoid making mention of sin because we fear that this would make our audience uncomfortable. We have transformed our funerals into rituals of canonisation whilst ignoring the fact that one of the main reasons for a funeral is that the deceased sinner needs us to pray FOR him and not pray TO him. We hide sin under the cover of every psychological concept or newly minted syndrome, thus taking away all culpability and liability from the individual.

So many, including many shepherds, have forgotten this simple truth - if we ignore sin, salvation is meaningless. The good news of the Lord’s death and resurrection means nothing if we don’t have a clear picture of our desperate sinful condition. Christ came to save us from our sins, not just to inspire us and make us feel good. Many of us priests have forgotten that we are called to be shepherds of souls and not just motivational speakers or counsellors. St Peter in the first reading fully understood his role as a shepherd of souls - convicting his audience of their sins, calling them to repentance, and saw his mission as participating in Christ’s mission to save his audience from this “perverse generation.” In saving souls, he knew he had to risk losing his audience’s approval and even far worse, losing his own life, which he did.

The second topic is suffering and the cross. Now, most people are keenly aware of their own sufferings and that of others. This often leads either to resentment or despair. One of the most common manifestations of narcissism is playing the victim: “poor me!” We complain that we have received a raw deal despite our attempts in following Christ and obeying His commandments. The reason for our complaints is that we expect to be rewarded. Many Protestant pastors would, therefore, choose to offer a Christianity without the cross - what is pejoratively known as the “gospel of prosperity” - and sad to say, many Catholic preachers have likewise jumped on the same bandwagon. The popularity of the prosperity gospel is understandable. Who would not wish for an alleviation of one’s pains and sufferings? The gospel which preaches the cross as inevitable is naturally unpopular.

And yet, this is what we must do, as St Peter spells out in the second reading: “The merit, in the sight of God, is in bearing punishment patiently when you are punished after doing your duty. This, in fact, is what you were called to do, because Christ suffered for you and left an example for you to follow the way he took.” The truth is that we all suffer to a greater or lesser degree, whether we like or not. But how we suffer and what we do with that suffering makes all the difference. Suffering for a Christian is a priceless opportunity to draw close to the suffering Christ, to carry His cross and consciously share in His redemptive suffering.

Third, the Good Shepherd offers us objective truth instead of just one opinion or direction or path among many. Living in an increasingly globalised and multicultural society, there is a great temptation to just succumb to the heresy of relativism - that all truths - even those which seem to contradict each other - are equally valid. Ironically, the heresy of relativism has been established as a new form of orthodoxy, and anyone who disagrees with this position would be summarily cancelled, the modern version of excommunication. The gospel provides us, however, with an important but uncomfortable truth - in a marketplace of ideas, only the Good Shepherd, the true Shepherd, can offer us saving truth “so that they may have life and have it to the full.” Beware of false teachers who pander to our “itching ears” and give us what is according to our respective “tastes.”

Now if this is what we shepherds are called to do by virtue of our vocation as pastors, shepherds, what does your vocation entail? Being described as “sheep” doesn’t sound flattering. In fact, it often invokes an image of mindless clique behaviour, having to be sorted out, constantly losing our way, and having to be minded and controlled by others. Unlike the parables involving shepherds and sheep found in the Synoptic Gospels, St John provides us with a more nuanced and mature image of the sheep. His are the sheep which recognise the voice of the shepherd and knows how to distinguish between counterfeits and the real thing. His are sheep that are so tuned in to their shepherd that they will follow him, trusting him that he will bring them to no harm. His are the sheep who understand that they will enjoy true freedom only when they submit themselves to the authority of the Shepherd. And they do so knowing that only the Good Shepherd alone can offer them “life and have it to the full.” As your priests, we too are not exempt from being sheep within the fold of Jesus the Good Shepherd. As we pray for our shepherds in the church, the bishops and priests, that they will take after the heart of the Good Shepherd, let us also pray for ourselves that we will all have the confidence and faith to place our lives in the hands of the One who alone has assured us that we will be safe.

The Shepherd who is a Lamb

Fourth Sunday of Easter Year C (Good Shepherd Sunday)

Frandishek Gasovnachek may not be a name which rings a bell for most people. He was one of the few lucky Jews who survived the infamous death camp of the Nazis in Auschwitz, Poland. The surviving inmates of those gruesome camps were finally liberated by the Allied forces in 1941. Every day Gasovnachek lived after 1941, he lived with the knowledge, "I live because someone died for me." Every year on August 14, he travelled to Auschwitz in memory of the man who took his place. We know that man as the Franciscan priest, St Maximilian Kolbe. This holy priest, a shepherd of souls, gave up his life to save Gasovnachek.

Similarly, this is what we must affirm every day of our lives: “I live because someone died for me.” It is Jesus the Good Shepherd who died for me. He is the Shepherd who sacrifices His life so that His sheep may live. Ordinarily, the shepherd’s calling was not to die for the sheep but to live for the sheep. In fact, when his own life was threatened, the shepherd may even be prepared to sacrifice one of his wards to escape the jaws of death. The life of the sheep was dispensable but not that of the shepherd. But our Lord Jesus’ charge was different and unique. He is the One who “lays down His life for the sheep” (John 10:11). His blood is spilt for the forgiveness of our sins. He sacrificed His own life so that His sheep may live.

The secret of this Shepherd’s willingness to die for His sheep is to be found in the second reading. The Book of the Apocalypse tells us that this Shepherd is also a lamb that has been sacrificed. We often fail to recognise the theological profundity of this switch. The Shepherd becomes one of the sheep whom He leads, the Creator chooses to become one of His creatures, God becomes man. And it is in this form which He chooses to save humanity.

And this is no ordinary lamb or cute cuddly pet which He becomes. This is a special type of lamb which is meant to be offered at the Temple as a sin offering. It is interesting that this discourse on the Good Shepherd takes place within the Temple where animal holocausts were offered to atone for the sins of the petitioners. The mystery of the atonement is that Jesus uses the sacrificial system to defeat the sacrificial system. He lets Himself be a victim but He goes willingly, thereby showing humanity that the sacrifice system is powerless. Thus, we are saved through the one sacrifice which alone can atone for our sins, the sacrifice of the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world; the Lamb who is also a Shepherd.

This incredible transformation takes place on the cross. It would appear that on the cross, life is taken, victory is defeated, God is crucified. But our Lord did not stay on the cross. God died, but He rose again. The devil did not have the final say. Loss was thwarted. Victory reigned. The Lamb that was slain became the Shepherd again. The Book of the Apocalypse provides us with this amazing vision that the slain Lamb rules again, arrayed in glory and surrounded by His subjects who had also followed His path of sacrificing their lives, washing themselves in His blood, and now share in His glory. That's the message of Easter.

We also see how this beautiful title which we accord to Jesus has two sides to it. It does not only acknowledge with the Psalmist in Psalm 23 that “the Lord is my shepherd,” but also acknowledges as in today’s Psalm 99, that “we are His people, the sheep of His flock.” Notice the symbiotic relationship between the sheep and their shepherd. The shepherd lived and died for his sheep, likewise the sheep must do so for the shepherd. This relationship is marked by certain essential characteristics.

Our Lord makes it very clear that the first identifying mark of His sheep is that, they hear His voice. “Hearing” is not merely auditory perception in scriptures but a spiritual understanding that responds in faith. “The sheep that belong to me listen to my voice; I know them and they follow me. I give them eternal life; they will never be lost and no one will ever steal them from me..” On the other hand, those who are not His sheep do not believe, they do not listen to His voice. One cannot claim to be a sheep that belongs to the Lord if one refuses to obey and submit to His authority.

But, it is not enough that the Lord’s sheep should “listen” to His voice. He also calls them to follow, wherever He lovingly leads them. The mark of true disciples is that they follow their shepherd. This theme is sounded in the call of the very first Apostles. He said to them, “Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men” (Matt. 4:19). Our Lord also emphasised that “if anyone wishes to come after Me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross daily and follow Me” (Luke 9:23). We begin to see that the cross is not just something which the Good Shepherd embraced for the sake of His sheep but also something which the sheep must be willing to accept, if they truly wish to belong to Him. Where the Shepherd goes, the sheep must follow.

It is here that we come to realise that being a sheep of the Good Shepherd is no benign image exuding cuteness and cuddliness. Rather, it carries a highly subversive connotation which may end in rejection, alienation and persecution from those who oppose the Shepherd. Some have the privilege of being called to die, as testimony of their faith or love for others, as in the case of St Maximilian Kolbe, while others are called to take the unpopular path of swimming against the mainstream current which is anti-Christian. St John Vianney once said, “Do not try to please everybody. Try to please God, the angels, and the saints—they are your public.” And often when we choose to please God, we end up displeasing others. But Christians are not called to be popular. We are called to be faithful.

Easter is about life that died to live again. It's about victory succumbing to defeat, only to be victorious again. It's about a God who left heaven to live on earth, to return to heaven again. It's about the Shepherd, who became a Lamb who became a Shepherd again. So, this is what we celebrate today, not just a Shepherd who guides and cares for His sheep, or gazes softly at us as if we were little teddy bears and cuddly lambs, but the One who became the sacrificial Lamb that took away our sins by dying for us in our place. He becomes the victim for all of us. And if we profess to be His sheep, then we must listen only to His voice in the midst of the confusion caused by a cacophony of worldly voices, and follow Him alone who can give us Eternal Life.

“Eternal Shepherd, thou art wont
To cleanse Thy sheep within the font,
That mystic bath, that grave of sin,
Where ransomed souls new life begin.”
(5th century Hymn used at Vespers, Eastertide)

The Lord is my Shepherd

 Fourth Sunday of Easter Year B

On this fourth Sunday of Easter, which is also known as Good Shepherd Sunday and Vocation Sunday, we are invited to contemplate one of the most beautiful images of our Lord as the Good Shepherd. As earthy and endearing as the popular image that we have of our Lord cuddling a lamb in His arms, as a mother would hold her baby, this “I am statement,” is another instance of High Christology, which emphasises the divinity of our Lord, rather than accentuates His humanity by using a seemingly human metaphor. Already in the Old Testament, the figure of the shepherd was an image for God. The prophets Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel spoke of God as the shepherd of the people of Israel. The people were referred to as the Lord’s flock. Most people, even non-Christians, are familiar with the particularly moving Psalm 23 which begins: “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.” And so it is significant that our Lord applies this image of a shepherd to Himself.

The gospel passage sets out three attributes of this Shepherd-God which is worth pondering.

The first is the sacrificial character of the Shepherd. This is a unique image because the sheep which He cares for is meant to be the sin-atoning sacrifice offered in the Temple and the lamb which would be slaughtered during the Preparation Day of the Passover. The lambs are supposed to “lay down” their lives for their human carers in atonement for their sins. But we see a spectacular reversal. Here it is the Shepherd “who lays down his life for his sheep.” The animal is not sacrificed to save the Master, but the master sacrifices Himself to save His sheep. The thought of this demands lasting contemplation - the wondrous exchange between the Shepherd and the Sheep, the ultimate sacrifice on the part of the Shepherd.

Yes our Lord is the “good shepherd who lays down His life for His sheep.” These words were confirmed during Christ’s passion. Our Lord laid down His life on the cross. He did so with love and He did so freely. In this Sunday’s Gospel, Our Lord says: “The Father loves me, because I lay down my life in order to take it up again. No one takes it from me; I lay it down of my own free will, and as it is in my power to lay it down, so it is in my power to take it up again; and this is the command I have been given by my Father.” Our Lord offered Himself up on the cross to redeem humanity, to save every one of us, though none of us were deserving of His sacrifice. He did so willingly unlike the lamb-sacrifice which were killed against their will. But our Lord did it with love, in union with His Father’s love for us.

This begs the question: “why would a stranger do this for me?” This introduces the second attribute of our Shepherd-Lord. Though many of us either do not know Him or our knowledge of Him is too shallow, we are no strangers to Him. He tells us, “I am the good shepherd; I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father.” This is wonderful and consoling news. Our Lord knows each of us. He knows us by name. He knows our deepest thoughts and our hidden emotions. We are not faceless anonymous objects, not just part of a multitude or crowd. We are each individually known and loved. But it doesn’t just stop there. Our Lord not only says that He knows His sheep; He also says that His sheep know Him. The knowledge is mutual. Knowledge is the basis of any authentic relationship. The more we know Christ, the more we trust Him and love Him.

Finally, our Shepherd-God spells out His mission. Unlike the national and parochial gods of other nations who seem only concerned with their own subjects, our Lord seeks out others too and He will not rest until everyone is included in His flock. “And there are other sheep I have that are not of this fold, and these I have to lead as well. They too will listen to my voice, and there will be only one flock, and one shepherd.”

This attribute is a reminder that the Church’s primary mission is evangelisation, preaching the gospel of Christ so that all may be drawn to the “one flock” led by the “one shepherd.” Evangelisation, unlike what modern critics would claim, is not an act of triumphalism or religious colonialism. It is an act of charity and hospitality. As much as it is trendy to say that the Church’s mission is to get along with others, this is not what she is called to do. The Church does not have to go along with every current and trend just to get along. Her mission is to proclaim the gospel by whatever means necessary, so that all may come to recognise the one Lord, the one Spirit, the One God and the one Shepherd. Sometimes it takes the form of respectful dialogue. Sometimes we are called to bear witness by positively living out our Christian vocation. But other times, we must be ready to give witness to Christ and His gospel, even if this means that we have to “lay down” our lives like our Shepherd.

Our Lord provides a contrast to this image of the good Shepherd by using the parable of the hireling. “The hired man, since he is not the shepherd and the sheep do not belong to him, abandons the sheep and runs away as soon as he sees a wolf coming, and then the wolf attacks and scatters the sheep; this is because he is only a hired man and has no concern for the sheep.” Here we find the antithesis of the good Shepherd. Self-serving instead of self-giving, indifferent instead of taking the trouble to know each member of the flock and finally, calculative instead of going beyond the pale and one’s job description to search out others. When the description of the hireling is unpacked in this fashion, we immediately come to realise that many of us look more like the hired man, than a good Shepherd.

As we reflect this Sunday on Jesus, the Good Shepherd, it is also good to reflect on our call to imitate the Good Shepherd. It is said that we become what we behold. We naturally think first of bishops and priests who are configured to Christ, the Good Shepherd, by ordination. We are called to shepherd our people with the heart of Christ, to know our people, to lead them, to feed them, to love them, indeed to lay down our life for them. Sometimes we fail and that is why we need your prayers, although more often than not, we deserve your criticisms.

By virtue of Baptism, every Christian is called to be “a good shepherd” in the environment where he or she lives: in the family, at work, in the community. We can think of parents and their vocation to exercise the functions of the Good Shepherd with regard to their children; those who care for the sick and the suffering; leaders in the community; those engaged in the works of mercy and compassion. And there is the mission of evangelisation: sharing the Gospel with those who do not belong to the sheepfold of the Church.

But today is a day that we should be thankful that our Lord is the Good Shepherd. Saint John Paul II reminds us: “What a blessing it is to know Christ, the Good Shepherd, to know Him as the Redeemer who laid down His life for the sheep, to know Him as the Risen Lord, the source of everlasting joy and life. What a blessing it is to know the Good Shepherd and to believe in Him. This gift of faith is the greatest blessing we could ever receive in life.”

Give them something to eat yourselves

Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

After an exhausting day of public ministry, our Lord decides to withdraw and retire to a deserted place, hoping to escape the fawning crowds, recover from the fatigue and have time to commune with His Father. But instead of prayerful rest, He is confronted once again by the crowds who continue to trail Him and who refuse to leave Him alone. Instead of annoyance, Saint Matthew tells us that the Lord took pity on them. Saint Matthew’s words describe the tenderness and love that characterises a true Shepherd’s heart. We may sometimes sound tiresome even to our loved ones, especially when they have to put up with our whining, complaining and demands, but here’s the good news: God never tires of us. Here our Lord understood the hunger of the crowds and instead of just turning them away, He acts and He invites His disciples to do the same.

But there is a problem - a problem of limited resources and colossal needs, the perennial problem which plagues humanity. The Lord’s disciples point out this conundrum to the Lord and suggests this solution, ‘This is a lonely place, and the time has slipped by; so send the people away, and they can go to the villages to buy themselves some food.’ Logical and practical. But our Lord is adamant and counter proposes, ‘There is no need for them to go: give them something to eat yourselves.’ What a challenge? It would have been so much easier to just say, “This isn’t my problem”; “I can’t be the saviour of the world; I can’t solve every problem”; “People just have to learn how to take care of themselves.” But the Lord would not have any of these excuses. Instead, He enlists His disciples in the work of feeding the multitude. Our Lord, being God, could have done this on His own without their help but He chose not to. Instead, He deliberately chooses to involve them in His miraculous feeding.

They then retort with this reality check - they only have five loaves and two fish, to be shared among 5,000 men (not counting the women and the children). The feat, as noble as it sounds, is simply impossible! This problem would certainly resonate with those who are responsible for assigning seats for Mass every Sunday. They have to crack their heads in order to find solutions to accommodate the thousands who want to come to Church every week and to match this figure with the limited number of seats.

The juxtaposition of our Lord’s response and the disciples’ reaction presents us with two very different visions – a human and a spiritual one. The human vision recognises the problem, but assesses it based on these considerations – one’s ability and capacity to help and the availability of sufficient resources. There is nothing wrong with this. All good planning involves looking at what we possess before we commit to a project.

But our Lord provides us with another vision. A vision where He is fundamentally present and in charge. And when He is present, everything changes. Remember, that the Lord Jesus Christ is God, who is capable of not only performing miracles but there is nothing which He cannot accomplish or do. If disciples could not see beyond their inadequacies, our Lord is not limited in His vision. He sees the hunger of His people. He sees beyond the physical and material needs of persons. These things are important and necessary but man’s greatest need is spiritual. Our Lord can heal our bodies and fill our stomachs, but that is only a stopgap measure. What mankind needs more than a miracle worker or a philanthropist is a Saviour, because our greatest problem is not poverty, hunger or war, it is sin. And the Saviour chooses to enlist us in this grand work of salvation.

But what kind of people does He use? You would imagine that He would zoom in on the gifted, the resourceful or the rich. But He doesn’t. Instead, He takes anyone who is willing to risk sharing and trusting. In other words, any of us could be candidates of this grand scheme of His. How do we enlist? By yielding our littleness to the Master to use as He pleases. Our Lord tells us, “Bring them here to Me!” That’s the key! Give your inadequate resources and abilities to the Lord. The insufficient becomes more than sufficient when surrendered to Christ! We may think that we have nothing to offer, but the truth is that, all of us have something to offer – it’s just that it is inadequate. Jesus doesn’t ask you to give Him what you don’t have. He asks you to give Him what you do have. What Jesus did with this meagre supply of bread and fish is what He will do with us, warts, limitations, brokenness and all. If He can feed a multitude with that meagre ration, imagine what He could do with us.

So, the next time you receive an invitation to give something of yourself, do not just look at what you do not possess, look rather to what you do possess, humble and insignificant as it may seem to you. That is enough. Pope Francis reminds us: “the Lord makes us walk on his road, that of service, of sharing, of giving; and if it is shared, the little we have, the little we are, becomes riches; for the power of God—which is the power of love—comes down into our poverty to transform it. So let us ask ourselves this evening, in adoring Christ who is really present in the Eucharist: do I let myself be transformed by him? Do I let the Lord, who gives himself to me, guide me to going out ever more from my little enclosure, in order to give, to share, to love him and others?”

Choose God and not His works

Fourth Sunday of Easter Year A

Good Shepherd Sunday

This year, I had found it exceptionally hard to preach on Good Shepherd Sunday, the day we pray for more vocations to the priestly ministry. It’s difficult because I feel profoundly ashamed. A priest is supposed to be a shepherd (Latin - pastor). But we find ourselves in a situation where we have been physically cut off from our sheep and our sheep have been separated from their shepherds.

Of course, we remain connected in the virtual world. But virtual is just not the same as reality. Our congregation now watches us celebrate the masses on their screens, perhaps sometimes drawn by the very same thing which draws people to certain celebrities and performances. As for the priests, we are often measured by the quality of our preaching because when it comes to the celebration of the mass, one streamed mass looks quite like the next, unless the celebrant chooses to imbue it with his personal showmanship and pizzazz.

But the reality is this: the mass is not a performance and we priests are not celebrities. Priests are meant to be shepherds and shepherds are meant to be with their sheep. I told Fr Dominic the other day (in jest), “in this world of virtual reality and streamed masses, people don’t need more priestly vocations. One or two will do. They, however, need more talented priests with stage presence.”

As I struggled to make sense of this time of physical social distancing and the digitalising of our ministry, I recalled the ministry of another pastor who was separated from his flock for 13 years. Who would have imagined that we would find ourselves in a similar situation, cut off from our flock, albeit for two months (or perhaps even longer). Today I would like to share his story, a story of immense hope and inspiration not just for us priests but also for all of you, as you continue to struggle with the spiritual hunger of being cut off from the sacraments and your shepherds.

The shepherd I’m speaking of is the late Cardinal Francis Xavier Nguyen Van Thuân. Shortly after he was made coadjutor archbishop of Saigon in 1975, he was arrested and imprisoned by the Communist because of his Catholic faith. He never got to exercise his ministry as archbishop. After 13 years of imprisonment, nine of which were spent in solitary confinement, he was finally released on the Feast of the Presentation of Our Lady in the year 1988 and sent into exile.

During his time in prison, he used his limited resources creatively in order to fulfill his duties as shepherd to the faithful. As he could not physically be present to his people, he had to find a way to reach out to them, so he solicited the help of a young boy to bring him old calendars. I am thankful that I have the internet, social media, and online video conferencing applications. I cannot imagine myself writing on the reverse side of our unused bulletins (which Fr Dom does) and replicating these for public consumption.

The Cardinal wrote simple, sincere messages of hope on the calendars and had the young boy copy and distribute them among the faithful. He was practically a human xerox machine. The Church should canonise him just for this. The Cardinal’s profound letters to the Catholic community strengthened them in their faith and helped them to persevere. These short-written messages reminded the people that their beloved archbishop, though not physically present, was present with them through prayer and in spirit.

The Cardinal, manifesting innovative fidelity, also used his scanty means to celebrate Mass in prison. He knew that celebrating Mass was his most important duty, but he had no church, no altar, and no tabernacle. How, then, could he fulfill his duty as bishop? He turned the concentration camp into a cathedral and the palm of his hand into an altar. He turned his shirt pocket into a tabernacle and turned the darkness of the sleeping quarters into a dwelling place for Light Himself.  Fr Dominic and I are grateful that we still have our little chapel.

Because of his ingenuity, many prisoners regained the fervour of their faith. The prisoners were reminded to embrace suffering and to use their current circumstances to grow in faith. His example and teachings remind us that Christian faith entails an active surrender to the Lord. It means seeking the best way to proclaim Christ’s love in every moment, every circumstance, and every action, even when all the odds seem stacked against us.

What was the secret of his resilience? He shared this in his memoirs:

“Alone in my prison cell, I continued to be tormented by the fact that I was forty-eight years old, in the prime of my life, that I had worked for eight years as a bishop and gained so much pastoral experience and there I was, isolated, inactive and far from my people.”

One night, from the depths of my heart, I could hear a voice advising me: "Why torment yourself? You must discern between God and the works of God - everything you have done and desire to continue to do, pastoral visits, training seminarians, sisters and members of religious orders, building schools, evangelising non-Christians. All of that is excellent work, the work of God but it is not God! If God wants you to give it all up and put the work into his hands, do it and trust him. God will do the work infinitely better than you; he will entrust the work to others who are more able than you. You have only to choose God and not the works of God!"

As I reread the story of this saintly bishop, I decided that I should stop whining and stop feeling sorry for myself. Neither should I be overly anxious for my flock because they are in good hands. My congregation is not without a shepherd, they have the Good Shepherd, who can do a far greater job than I.  “Michael, if God wants you to give it all up and put the work into His hands, do it and trust Him. God will do the work infinitely better than you.” Those words of Cardinal Van Thuân will be my guide as I entrust my ministry and the care of my people to the Good Shepherd, who will never desert His flock and will always protect them against “thieves and brigands”. He is the One who laid down His life for me and for you so that we may have life and have it to the full. You only have to choose Him, always.

Shepherd and Warrior

Fourth Sunday of Easter Year C

Every year, this Sunday’s liturgy offers for our meditation a passage extracted from the lengthy Chapter 10 of the Fourth Gospel, where our Lord presents Himself as the “true shepherd.” The four verses which I just read this year are taken from the last part of the speech and helps us foster a deeper understanding of this beautiful biblical image. But do you pay attention to the portrait of the Good Shepherd that is painted here?

Firstly, it dispels a widely held myth about the Good Shepherd. Whenever we think of this, what does it remind us of? For most people, the image of Jesus as the Good Shepherd may come from pictures in children’s books or in stained glass windows: Jesus as a benign shepherd in long flowing robes, surrounded by cuddly lambs and golden-haired children in a soft grassy field on a perfect day.  Perhaps, the image painted by St Luke in his parable of the lost sheep may have something to do with influencing this portrait (Luke 15:4-8).

But the image of the shepherd in St John’s gospel has nothing to do with this nice and pleasant picture. Our Lord is not presenting Himself as the one who lovingly caresses and coddles the wounded sheep like a doting mother whilst giving its ego a therapeutic massage. St John paints a picture of a seasoned battle-worn shepherd, strong, courageous, who fights off bandits and wild beasts like David (another shepherd-warrior-king). Here is one who is not afraid to risk everything and even lay down His life for the flock He loves. Here is one who stands in the face of danger, holds his ground and issues this warning, “no one can steal from the Father.”

We tend to overlook the fact that shepherds are also fighters. Shepherds must be prepared to kill to protect the sheep in their charge.  For of such is the “Good Shepherd.” The shepherd does not flee the scene at the slightest indication of danger or risk to himself. The shepherd does not sit down for a meal over roasted lamb with a bandit who has only one intent in mind – the stealing and killing of his charges. The shepherd does not hand over his flock to the wild beasts in order to appease them and to save his own skin. As “nice” as the image of a benign and friendly shepherd may be, he does not have his sheep’s best interest in mind. His job is to protect and guard them from their enemies. His job is not to invite the enemies in, to feast on his flock.

No, the life of a shepherd and his flock is one marked by danger and strife. In fact, all life is a struggle from start to finish.  At no time is life not in the conflict of struggle.  And the struggle to survive is a fraction of the total struggle in which life is engaged at all times and places.  The heart struggles to beat, the lungs to function, families to love, enterprises to exist. Man’s ineffable, ineluctable and interminable destiny in this world is conflict (war as Heraclitus puts it).  Someone once said, “Time is war.  Space is conflict.  Land is violence.”

And that is the reason why we speak of the Church as Church Militant, with Christ as our Warrior-King, Shepherd cum General. It is not our intention to be belligerent, that is to pick fights and to sow discord and violence. Rather, it is others who often pick fights with us, who sow discord in our midst and eventually intend our destruction. And so, our destiny has already been written by the perennial condition of a fallen humanity hostile to Christ and His mission. The Catechism of Trent, Article IX, puts it very succinctly: the Church “is called militant, because it wages eternal war with those implacable enemies, the world, the flesh and the devil.”

It is not un-Christian to fight, on the contrary, Christians are called to fight the good fight. But how can this spirit be compatible with the commandment to love? Everything a Christian does should be motivated by love, but this does not conflict with the spirit to strive and fight. Rather this spirit should be a fruit of love. Love presupposes sacrifice for the one who is loved. Without sacrifice, there is no true love – only sentimentalism. If a man loves his wife and children, he is ready to defend them. If he loves his country, he must be ready to fight against all attacks. Likewise, he too must defend his faith and his Church. True love is proven under such difficult circumstances. Love is ultimately determined when self-sacrifice is called for. Our Lord who sacrificed Himself on the cross is the greatest example of the militant spirit as the fruit of love.

But unfortunately, modern society, mistakes our fundamental convictions as intolerance and extremism which breeds violence. We live in a society that is more concerned with providing self-help therapies which affirm us in our error than it is with challenging us with the Truth in order to change. In fact, this is a generation which can’t handle the Truth. Living a lie is so much less threatening and comfortable. That is why the world tries to convince us not to enter into battle. “Do not waste your life fighting for abstract ideals, enjoy the pleasures life has to offer,” is its message. Yet the Catholic spirit should be the exact opposite – “Do not waste your life on the pleasures of this world, fight for ideals that are worth living and dying for.”

Sadly, the church is too often simply a mirror of the wider culture on this issue. This plays out in how church leaders sometimes compromise the most basic values and beliefs of the Church in order to appease the world. We want to make peace with the world, even at the risk of offending God. We insist on “listening” to the world and even conforming to the values of the world, forgetting that the primary duty of the Church is to teach prophetically. And so we end up dumbing things down in an attempt to be catchy or popular. We fail to realise that our kids can actually understand the big doctrines of the Christian faith, if they are given the opportunity and the forum to do so. But we often believe that they are too dumb to handle these things.

But the Church of the living is ultimately the Church Militant. This is what the Church is meant to be. Catholicism is meant to be active and not passive. It's where you are required to adapt to it, rather than it adapting to you. The longer you are in it, the more you realise its demands of you. The Catholic Church is not a mall or a spa. No, the Catholic Church is a gym, a battleship ready for war. Yes. The Catholic faith is difficult. It is demanding and it’s meant to be so. It is about mercy, but it is also about overcoming oneself.  We are challenged in a deep way, not just to “feel good about myself” but to become holy. 

In times of war and in the heat of battle, obedience is paramount. That is why the Lord tells us, “The sheep that belong to me listen to my voice.” This is what ultimately defines us – our obedience. He makes the judgment call, we merely carry it out. In the midst of a culture of mass information, relativism and individualism, in which there are so many competing voices, we must learn to listen to the only voice that matters, the voice of Christ the Good Shepherd. Failing to listen to His voice only ends in chaos and conflict within the ranks of the flock.

So who are the sheep of His flock? Are they those docile, pacifist creatures who only know how to pray, pay and obey? Hardly. His “sheep” are those who have the courage to follow Him and the humility to obey Him. His “sheep” are those who are prepared to fight in His army and die for Him. If our Shepherd King is a Warrior, we His sheep must be ready to wage the “eternal war with those implacable enemies, the world, the flesh and the devil.” Indeed, following His example, pious Catholic men and women throughout the centuries have brought tremendous acts of daring and bravery to the battlefields of life and steadfastly faced innumerable situations of danger and conflict. Nothing could be more Catholic than this.