Fourth Sunday of Easter 2020 Homily

Dear Friends,

“I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly.”

That phrase from the end of Sunday’s gospel (John 10,10) can be interpreted in a myriad of ways. On Saturday, the 25th of April, seventeen of us gathered by way of “zoom” to celebrate the 50th anniversary of our high school graduation. It was fascinating to re-connect with people I had not seen for most of those fifty years and hear the stories of their lives. In the exuberance of our youth in a culture that had changed radically during our adolescence, the quote from John could easily be seen as a statement of our freedom from the expectations of others. As we reminisced, however, more than one person reflected on the various causes for which many advocated then and posited that now it was time to “pass the torch” to younger generations. As one person clarified, it is not that “we don’t care;” but without saying it, he expressed the reality that now we need to focus on the great encounter that is yet to come.

  After more than two hours of conversation, I think all of us were grateful not only for having re-connected, but also for how we had been led through various paths to the place where we now find ourselves. I would like to think it has something to do with having heard the call of the “Good Shepherd.” I am currently re-reading Thomas Merton’s Seven Story Mountain, which is the account of his conversion to Christ. Some have called this book the 20th century version of the Confessions of St. Augustine. Through the lens of experience and the wisdom of age, each of these brilliant authors traced the movement of the Holy Spirit in their youthful years. At the time of their lives being recounted, these men did not realize how they were being guided, ever so gradually, to embrace Christ as their Lord.

  Every year on “Good Shepherd” Sunday, we are invited to reflect, as they did, on the quality and nature of our response to the voice of the Shepherd. I was always fascinated by the mystery of the Mass. It became clear to me by fourth grade that all I really wanted to do was to “do what the priest does at Mass.” I had no clue as to anything else that filled the daily life of a priest. That “vision,” however, sustained me throughout the turbulent years of high school and the questioning years of college. Finally, while home from graduate school at Christmastime, the burning question within had to be addressed; and so, I said to a young priest: “Could God be calling me?” His answer “Why not?” was all I needed to hear. I surprised many of my high school classmates the other night when I told them that much of my time is occupied with management. We are a large parish with a large staff and a vibrant school. These days are particularly challenging from that perspective. In every one of the eight parishes where I have served (five as pastor), there have been unforeseen obstacles that, through the grace of God, have been tackled and led to my growth as a person. I often marvel at the words that pour forth from my mouth in a difficult moment and realize that they are not my own.

  One of the powerful images from this portion of the “Good Shepherd” passage from John is that of Jesus as the “gatekeeper” and the “gate” itself. Many years ago, while visiting a former parishioner from here at her home in the Lake District of England, I saw real sheep gates. They are low so that the sheep can go back and forth. The shepherd would often sleep in that passage way so as to keep the sheep in the fold and keep marauders from entering. Normally, when herding sheep, shepherds go behind the flock and prod them along. Another key image from this gospel is that of the “good” shepherd leading the flock. Jesus’ words to Thomas come to mind: “You know the way that leads to where I am going.” When Thomas expressed ignorance, Jesus revealed: “I am the way, the truth, and the life!”

  There are always distracting sounds, but the voice of the shepherd is distinctive. Those who belong to the flock, even if they wander for years, know that the longing in their hearts is for that “Good Shepherd.” The full import of the Good News is that this shepherd is constantly calling and seeking the sheep of his fold. My greatest joy and challenge as a priest is to echo that call; and what a reward it is when, after a long time, a lost sheep comes home!

Yours in the Good Shepherd,

Father Bill Foley