Spirituality of the Readings

Knowing from the Heart

Shepherds were extremely important to the well-being of a flock. They guided the sheep, made them safe, led them to food and drink. Today, Jesus said sadly that the people looked like “sheep without a shepherd.”
Let us take this opportunity to reflect on animals and their humans.

Look at the endearing way domestic beasts recognize their owners. Dogs collapse into a frenzy of delight when you come home, even if you have been gone only for an hour. Hysterics are the least they can do.

Maybe you do recognize Jesus’ voice when you hear it.

Somewhere there may be a cat like this, but most of them have the opposite reaction to the heartsick dogs. “Oh it’s you again.” 

I know one exception. One of my cousin’s cats models indifference with most people, but when I am in the house this cat makes a quiet bee-line to where I am sitting, making no secret of how it enjoys being petted by me. I am not sure whether to be complimented or not, nor can I explain it. There might be months between visits and still the cat makes its way to the petting machine, with both dignity and craving.

Did Jesus notice such things? He watched life around him carefully, judging from his stories. He certainly watched the relationship between shepherds and their flocks.

So what does he mean by his brief remarks about his sheep this Sunday?

In the Jerusalem of Jesus’ day various flocks of sheep would arrive with their respective shepherds, only to be turned into the same sheepfold together. This made for a rather large gang of sheep, and there wasn’t any practice of branding or marking to tell which was which. You can see the practical problem right away. Sheep, unlike dogs, do not rejoice themselves into knots when their shepherd shows up. 

Then how does each shepherd get his own sheep back?

Two ways. One, the shepherd knows all his own sheep by heart. He has a special name for each character in the flock. And second, the sheep themselves know their master’s voice unmistakably. When he calls out, they simply get up and come to him. They follow him out through the sheep-gate. No mistake about it.

And that is Jesus' reference in Sunday’s short Gospel. “My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me,” he says. You and I are the sheep he is talking about. He says we “shall never perish,” because he holds us in his own hands. In fact, it was the Father who gave us to Jesus, and no one can ever take us out of the Father’s hands.

Think about it. Have you ever longed for someone who could make things alright, who could help lift the responsibility from your shoulders? Someone who knows you by name and cares about you?

Maybe you do recognize Jesus’ voice when you hear it. It might be in the Gospel at Mass. Or when you receive the bread of everlasting life and the cup of salvation—not as a stranger might, but as a member of the well-fed and greatly cared for flock.

This Sunday, what about trying to notice how your spirit automatically inclines to Jesus? How you settle into his grasp for petting. How your soul seeks him. 

And finds him.

John Foley, SJ

**From Saint Louis University