the running shepherd

It has been a joy and a privilege to live and work for the past six weeks with the community of the Liturgical Institute in Chicago. The classes and readings are inspiring. But even more inspirational are the people with whom I have been living and studying.

We are a diverse bunch:  priests,  religious sisters, and lay men and women. It is in our celebration of the Liturgy of the Church: that is, the Mass, and Morning and Evening Prayer of the Church each day, that we experience our greatest unity, humbly and prayerfully gathered in need of God.

One of the many things I have appreciated in these weeks is the opportunity to hear many different priests preach.  Tonight it was Fr. John Paul. He gave an inspiring reflection that is also a perfect meditation for this Sunday’s readings.  I am sure he won’t mind if I paraphrase and ‘borrow’ part of his homily to share with you.  Here goes.

Since the sin of Adam and Eve, humans have been running. We have been running away from God. But we forget that God is also running. God is running after us.

Our running tires us. We are exhausted. But we keep running. We naively think that we can find what we seek apart from God. 

Our escape is futile, since God is prepared to chase us, even to earth and into our human existence. 

In Jesus God becomes one of us. God joins us in the place where all our running invariably and inevitably leads us, that is, isolation. We run in an effort to find life and intimacy, and instead we feel more alone than ever before.
  

On the night before he died, Jesus knelt before his frail and fickle followers. With water and a towel he washed their feet. He washed their tired runners' feet.

And the following day he paid the price for the running of all sinners of all time. He suffered and died for us sinners, that he might lead us through death, to the glory of the resurrection.

Well, that piece of tonight’s homily led me to to thinking about my childhood vacations on the farm. Steve my uncle was the farmer. During lambing Steve would often notice a ewe in trouble and he would run to catch the ewe.  The ewe did not want to be caught and would run to escape. She couldn’t imagine that Steve was going to be helpful.  As a kid, uselessly standing on the sideline, I was just wishing the stupid ewe would stop and let Steve help.  Her life would be so much easier if she just relaxed!

The link between the shepherd and the sheep is painfully obvious to me now, for I, far too often, am like the stupid sheep. I run from what is best for me. I run to escape from THE ONE who is waiting to overflow me with life, with love and with happiness. 

Why are we humans so slow to realise that our healthy and happiness is found only when we stop and rest and allow Jesus the good shepherd to  catch us? 

Jesus, the good shepherd, will feed us and befriend us. He will carry us through the dark valleys of life, to the house of the Lord where we are invited to dwell all our days.

Now in that last sentence you will probably recognise echoes of the twenty-third psalm.  This is no coincidence. This psalm follows the first reading at today’s Mass. Without a doubt this is the most popular of all the 150 psalms.  It is often appropriately chosen as a funeral hymn.  I hope you pray it for me when my time comes!

On the blog (below or at www.johncoconnor.blogspot.com) you will find a few of the best known musical settings for this hymn. These settings are a reflection in themselves since there must be a reason that composers have chosen this psalm to set to music more than any other:

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

In verdant pastures he gives me repose;

beside restful waters he leads me;

he refreshes my soul.

He guides me in right paths

for his name's sake.

Even though I walk in the dark valley

I fear no evil; for you are at my side

with your rod and your staff

that give me courage.

You spread the table before me

in the sight of my foes;

you anoint my head with oil;

my cup overflows.

Only goodness and kindness follow me

all the days of my life;

and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord

all the days of my life.