A Homily for the Second Sunday after Easter

+ As the paschal candle—the triumphant emblem of Our Lord Jesus Christ’s definitive victory over sin and death—burns still, the Sacred Liturgy of our Holy Mother, the Church, whilst continuing to celebrate the all-changing reality that its height and grandeur betokens, turns to some practical formation in the living of life in its light. For whilst we rightly rejoice in the unquenchable light of Easter morning, it remains true that the Church’s mission is to spread this light to all corners of the earth—most especially the darkest ones—and to bring back into that light those of her children who have strayed into the shadows and have fallen into the ever-present traps of the world, the flesh and the devil.

Hence, this morning, we are reminded by St Peter that Our Lord “himself bore our sins in his body on the tree [of the Cross] that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By his wounds [we] have been healed. For [we] were straying like sheep but have now returned to the Shepherd and Guardian of [our] souls.” Deo gratias, we rightly say in respect of the mercy Almighty God has shown to each one of us, and we might well add many “Alleluias” in respect of the large numbers of neophytes baptised at the Paschal Vigil in so many places only two weeks ago—a true sign of hope in our times.

For this is indeed the mission of the Church: to shepherd all men and women into the unending light and hope of which the paschal candle is so powerful a sacramental. It is to bring every human person into the “one fold” that is the One True Church founded by Jesus Christ in which eternal salvation may be found. Whilst we respect the freedom of conscience of those who follow various other religious systems, we cannot renounce this God-given mission without compromising the integrity of the Gospel or of the Church herself. The light of Easter morning dawned for all humanity, not for some peculiar sect.

Good will towards, and cooperation with, others in humanitarian works, etc., do not change the reality that Jesus Christ is, as the Church reminded us in the antiphon for the Benedictus sung at Lauds this morning, “the Way, the Truth and the Life,” for every person who lives, who has ever lived or who shall ever live. And if kindness leads us to obfuscate this truth, it is in fact the worst of all unkindnesses; indeed, it is an insidious lie—for to leave sheep outside the sheepfold and to affirm them in their stance, even partially, is to leave them in danger of perishing eternally. Certainly, the Church teaches that it is possible, in God’s mercy, that those who through no fault of their own do not belong to Christ could be saved, but we have no right to presume this. Our task is to bring all into the security of the one sheepfold where the “shepherd and guardian of our souls” may heal and care for them.

This duty pertains to all the baptised, to be sure in different ways according to our particular vocation. That is to say that whilst Our Lord is the Good Shepherd, each of us has the duty of shepherding others as and when necessary. Clearly this duty is paramount in those called to become an alter Christus in the orders of the episcopate or priesthood: hence we must pray earnestly for their fidelity, courage and determination in shepherding the flock entrusted to their care. But so too, the Christian parent must be a good shepherd, as must the teacher or the writer or the worker or the student—each must bear witness to the light of the resurrection and call (back if necessary) those for whom they have responsibility or with whom they have influence into the sheepfold of the Church.

In comparison to the Good Shepherd who gives His life for His sheep, Our Lord derides shepherds who are mere “hirelings”—those who take flight when the wolves attack and leave their sheep to be scattered if not slaughtered. We are, unfortunately, all too familiar with this phenomenon in the life of the Church today.

Too many who are called to high office in the Church are, for one reason or another, little more than wolves in shepherd’s clothing—be that due to moral or financial corruption, the false-promises of ambition, syncretism and relativism and all their empty promises, the pursuit of particular processes, the tenacious clinging to dated ideologies or even the subtle temptations of technocratic efficiency as an end in itself. The Good Shepherd was concerned first and foremost about the salvation of His sheep, not His personal gain or His career! He did not consult higher authority before every action so as to absolve himself of His own responsibility. He took risks—significant ones—to bring back even one lost sheep. He did not occupy Himself with reforming internal processes or by engaging in partisan politics: he got up and went out to seek and to save those in danger of perdition. There was no room in His ministry for ideological pursuits: He was too busy seeking out and saving the lost. There is much for each of us to ponder here.

As we go now to the altar where once again we shall feast on the life laid down for us by the Good Shepherd and given to us anew in the Blessed Eucharist, let us pray earnestly that each of us—and most especially those called to high office in the Church—shall truly live according to the light of Easter morning and do all that we must to bring others into that saving light. Amen. +