Fourth Sunday of Easter
Bishop of Lake Charles
Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception
May 25, 2010
Fourth Sunday of Easter
“My sheep hear my voice.” John 10:27
Experts tell us that every single voice is different. The timbre, the characteristics of the quality of the sound, that comes from the human voice differs from one person to the next. I am not an expert in acoustics, but I know from my limited experience that this is true. The exceptional nature of each and every human voice makes it possible for us to identify someone on a telephone even before he or she tells us who is calling.
The experts also tell us that sheep recognize the voice of the shepherd, much in the same way that a pet dog knows the owner’s voice. It is this quality that makes it possible for a shepherd at the end of the day to gather his sheep and bring them home to rest.
When Jesus spoke of the voice, He knew this was true. “My sheep hear my voice,” He said. “I know them, and they follow me” (John 10:27). What is it about His voice that the sheep find so recognizable? Jesus says that they recognize His voice because He gives them “eternal life, and they shall never perish” (John 10:28). His voice is one of reassurance. He speaks of life, not of death.
Pope John Paul II spoke often of what he referred to as “the culture of death.” We do not have to go too far to find it all around us. The violence of the society strikes me every time I read the morning newspaper. There we read of drug wars, serial murders, acts of violence to children and elderly, wars and tortures that would make even the strongest blush. And should we not mention the violence done to the innocents in the womb, through abortion and experimentation.
However, the voice of the shepherd calls the sheep to safety and peace. “No one can take them out of my hand” (John 10:28), the Good Shepherd assures us. The sheep will be safe, if they listen to the voice of the shepherd and follow him.
When do we hear the voice of the shepherd? I can only speak for myself. I have heard this voice from those who offered me wise advice. That advice came first in my experience from my parents. I thank God for them always. They never appeared to think of themselves first. Their advice was selfless, without strings attached, and I think this is one of the shepherd’s chief characteristics. He gives of himself without asking in return. His very voice communicates that selflessness.
Then, there are the priests who advised me in my parish and in the seminary. They were good men of common sense, prayerful and devout, who patiently listened and shared their wisdom. They had not only a wisdom that comes from great learning and exposure to the world but also a deep understanding that comes from knowing God’s ways. They spoke of life, because they loved life, and they had lived it well. And I wish to mention another dimension to the voice of the shepherd.
We have spoken of the selfless nature of the shepherd’s voice and its wisdom. This, I am convinced, comes from suffering. Suffering seasons human perception. Certainly with Our Lord Jesus Christ, He came to suffer. The very purpose of His mission here on earth was to suffer and die, for only then could he rise. “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses,” the Letter to the Hebrews reads, “but one who has similarly been tested in every way, yet without sin” (Hebrews 4:15).
When I look back at those whose voices I listened to as I grew older, they were voices that knew the human condition because they had suffered. For them faith was not something that one put on only for Sunday Mass or when one had a problem to be solved. No, for them faith was “part and parcel” of what it meant to be a human being, called by God’s grace, to live a Christian calling. They did not hide suffering, nor did they hide from suffering. Instead, they embraced it when it came and saw suffering with meaning. It had meaning because Christ had already suffered, and their sufferings joined to His lifted them up to a renewed life. This was the profound wisdom of St. Paul, when he wrote, “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of his body, which is the church” (Colossians 1:24). Always, it was suffering for someone else’s sake, filling up whatever was lacking, identifying with Christ for the sake of His Church.
On this Good Shepherd Sunday, I pray for an increase of vocations to the priesthood in our diocese. Almost every day I meet those who are open to priesthood but they have not heard the shepherd’s voice call them. Has the shepherd’s voice spoken? I think it has. Have they heard it? Only they can answer that question. Of one thing I am certain, however. The sheep need to hear the shepherd’s voice, and this will not happen without shepherds who allow Christ to speak through them. We need those who are willing to speak with the shepherd’s voice, so that the sheep may be one and brought into safe and green pastures.