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The Wounded Shepherd and the Wayward Sheep

  • Writer: Fr. Scott Haynes
    Fr. Scott Haynes
  • 4 hours ago
  • 6 min read

Fr. Scott Haynes


A Meditation for Good Shepherd Sunday



On this Second Sunday after Easter, traditionally known as Good Shepherd Sunday, the Church turns our hearts and minds to one of the most beloved and profound images of Christ: the Good Shepherd who lays down His life for His sheep. The readings today, taken from the Gospel of St. John and the First Epistle of St. Peter, invite us into the mystery of divine love—a love that leads, suffers, protects, and redeems.


In the Gospel, Our Lord declares, "I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd giveth his life for his sheep" (John 10:11). The simplicity of this statement belies the depth of its theological and pastoral significance. The Good Shepherd does not merely care for the sheep in a functional or utilitarian sense; He binds His very life to theirs, preferring death to their destruction. Unlike the hireling who flees when danger comes, the true shepherd embraces peril for the sake of love.


This image is deeply rooted in the Jewish tradition. Throughout the Old Testament, shepherds were not only literal figures tending flocks but also symbolic of leadership, particularly kings and prophets. God Himself is described as a shepherd: "The Lord ruleth me: and I shall want nothing. He hath set me in a place of pasture" (Ps. 22:1-2). The prophet Ezekiel reproaches the unfaithful shepherds of Israel and proclaims God's promise: "Behold I myself will seek my sheep, and will visit them" (Ezek. 34:11). By identifying Himself as the Good Shepherd, Jesus claims this divine role, fulfilling the prophetic promise that God Himself would come to shepherd His people.


St. Gregory the Great, in his Homilies on the Gospels, reflects: "He who is not a shepherd, whose own the sheep are not, seeth the wolf coming and leaveth the sheep and flieth. He is not a shepherd but a hireling who feeds the Lord's sheep not because he loves their inner joy, but because he seeks earthly gain" (Gregory the Great, Homiliae in Evangelia, Homily XIV, PL 76:1129). Gregory's admonition not only affirms Christ's sacrificial love but also warns pastors of the Church of the grave responsibility entrusted to them.


We are reminded again in the epistle of the cost of this shepherding. St. Peter writes: "Christ also suffered for us, leaving you an example that you should follow his steps. Who did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth... by whose stripes you were healed. For you were as sheep going astray: but you are now converted to the shepherd and bishop of your souls" (1 Pet 2:21-25). The shepherd is also the Lamb, the sinless victim, the one whose stripes—scourges, wounds, and blows—heal the wayward flock.


St. Jerome marvels at this mystery: "What more could He do for the sheep? He not only feeds them, but dies for them. What shepherd ever acted thus? He was not only a shepherd, but the Shepherd of shepherds, the exemplar of every pastor" (Jerome, Commentariorum in Ezechielem, PL 25:18).


The readings draw us into this paradox of divine strength manifest in apparent weakness. The Shepherd leads not from behind a wall of safety, but from the front lines, embracing every bramble, snare, and sword that threatens His sheep. He calls them by name, knows them intimately, and gathers them into one fold. As He says, "And other sheep I have, that are not of this fold: them also I must bring, and they shall hear my voice, and there shall be one fold and one shepherd" (John 10:16).


This verse, so rich in missionary fervor and ecclesial hope, points to the universality of Christ's salvific will. St. Athanasius sees in this verse the call to unity: "The Word who became man came not to save part of mankind but all; He calls all, and in Him all may find one Shepherd" (Athanasius, De Incarnatione Verbi Dei, 54, PG 25:192).


In His self-emptying love, Christ not only rescues the lost sheep but teaches us how to live. The imitation of Christ, so central to Christian discipleship, is rooted in this image of the suffering Shepherd. As St. Bernard of Clairvaux preaches, "What more salutary path could the sheep take than that trodden by the Shepherd? He goes before us in humility, in patience, in obedience, and in love unto death" (Bernard of Clairvaux, Sermones de Diversis, Sermon 35, PL 183:609).


St. Peter’s epistle urges this same conformity: "Christ also suffered for us, leaving you an example." The Latin word used for "example" (Greek: hupogrammos) refers to a writing-copy, the sort children use to learn their letters. Christ is not only the content but also the form of Christian life. To follow Him is to trace the lines He has drawn with His passion.


Yet what does this mean for us, practically and spiritually? First, it means recognizing ourselves as sheep—fragile, easily scattered, dependent. Modernity, enamored of autonomy and power, finds this image uncomfortable. But Scripture’s truth confronts us with a humble anthropology: we are sheep in need of a shepherd. As St. Leo the Great writes, "The sheep that strays from the Shepherd’s care perishes unless it returns to the fold; for outside the way, the truth, and the life, no one can be saved" (Leo the Great, Sermon 26, PL 54:217).


Secondly, this Sunday calls us to confidence in the tenderness and vigilance of Christ. No wound is too deep, no path too crooked, for His mercy. The same voice that called Lazarus from the tomb calls us from the grave of sin. St. Augustine echoes this: "He has become a shepherd to seek thee; He has become a sheep to be slain for thee" (Augustine, Sermon 96, PL 38:584).


What comfort lies in these words! We are not alone in our wandering. The Good Shepherd does not wait for us to find our way home; He comes to find us. The Incarnation itself is the Shepherd entering the thickets of human history, carrying the lost on His shoulders.


And yet, Good Shepherd Sunday also carries with it a vocation for us all, especially those entrusted with the care of souls. Priests, bishops, religious, and lay leaders are called to participate in the shepherding of the flock. Woe to those who live like hirelings! Again, St. Gregory speaks sharply: "There are some who love earthly advantages more than the care of the flock... They fly at the approach of the wolf because they inwardly seek their own gain, not the salvation of the sheep" (Homiliae in Evangelia, Homily XIV, PL 76:1129).


The faithful, too, are not exempt. Every Christian must live in some way as a shepherd, whether over children, friends, students, or co-workers. Love demands vigilance and sacrifice. The model remains Christ: patient in suffering, unyielding in truth, gentle in correction, and fearless in love.


We must also examine the universal call to unity found in Christ's words: "They shall hear my voice, and there shall be one fold and one shepherd" (John 10:16). In a world fractured by division and rebellion, the Good Shepherd still calls. He seeks to gather all under His crook, regardless of race, nation, or past sin. St. Cyprian, writing amidst the early Church’s turmoil, insisted: "He cannot have God for his Father who has not the Church for his mother" (Cyprian, De Catholicae Ecclesiae Unitate, 6, PL 4:502). To hear the Shepherd’s voice is to follow Him in unity with His Church.


Let us then hear that voice. Let us listen for it in the stillness of prayer, in the proclamation of Scripture, in the Magisterium of the Church, and in the silence of adoration. The Shepherd still speaks. But do we hear Him? Or do we listen to the cacophony of the hirelings and the wolves?


On this Good Shepherd Sunday, we are offered once again the healing stripes of Christ, the gentle rod that guides us, the call to live not as scattered sheep but as beloved sons and daughters. His wounds remain the mark of His eternal priesthood and His ceaseless love. As the ancient hymn Jesu dulcis memoria reminds us: "Jesus, our only joy be Thou, As Thou our prize wilt be; Jesus, be Thou our glory now, And through eternity."


Let us follow Him. Let us be healed by Him. Let us, in our own measure, shepherd others to His fold. The pasture is ready, the Shepherd calls, and the door is open.


Bibliography


Athanasius. De Incarnatione Verbi Dei. PG 25:192.

Augustine. Sermon 96. PL 38:584.

Cyprian. De Catholicae Ecclesiae Unitate. PL 4:502.

Gregory the Great. Homiliae in Evangelia. Homily XIV. PL 76:1129.

Jerome. Commentariorum in Ezechielem. PL 25:18.

Leo the Great. Sermon 26. PL 54:217.

Bernard of Clairvaux. Sermones de Diversis. Sermon 35. PL 183:609.

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