God, the Good Shepherd—and humanity, the sheep
April 26, 2026 – 4th Sunday of Easter, Good Shepherd Sunday
Readings: Acts 2: 14a, 36-41, Psalm 23, R. The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.; First Peter 2: 20b-25; Gospel – John 10: 1-10
The image of the Good Shepherd was an early symbol for the first Christian communities—a symbol that predated the Cross. Some historians point out that this persisted for the first five centuries of Christianity. The Cross became a popular symbol of Christianity in the fourth century. This could partly account for the Good Shepherd symbol becoming less popular by the fifth century.
The interesting point to reflect on is what do these two symbols mean for Christians? And part of our “thesis” is the symbols shifted, but the meaning and grace behind them endured.
Of salvation and protection
In the image of the Good Shepherd described in today’s Gospel, we see the protection and guidance of the Lord, the intimacy of his relationship with us, his flock, and the ultimate grace of salvation it made available to us.
The first image projected is the Good Shepherd as the gate of the sheepfold and the one who goes before his flock. This emphasized how the Lord provides us with protection and guidance.
The Lord keeps us out of harm’s way by being the gate that protects the flock and by going before us always.
In a very similar way, the Cross has assumed the same sense of protection and guidance. Notice how people make the sign of the Cross before they start something important where they need either protection or guidance, or both.
This is most visible in athletes. In basketball or football before an athlete steps into the court or field to substitute a teammate, he/she makes the sign of the Cross.
The relationship between the shepherd and his flock
Protection and guidance are two graces we always desire and pray for. The second grace is the intimacy of our relationship with the Lord that the symbols carry.
The Lord described the Good Shepherd as one who the flock followed because they knew his voice. The intimacy of the shepherd and the flock is very natural.
There was an incident just a few years back when a flock of sheep blocked one of the highways in California. They made their way to the highway and just laid down there, causing traffic.
Patrolmen came, but the flock of sheep refused to budge. Soon there were firemen helping clear the highway and news crews covering the unusual event. At one point, and this was captured by the news crews, the shepherd showed up.
Apparently, he fell asleep while pasturing his flock and so they wandered into the highway.
When he got to the scene, he called out to his flock in Mexican and according to those who were watching this through the news coverage, you could see the sheep in the flock in synchronized motion turning their heads towards the sound of the shepherd’s voice.
Praying as a form of communication
Praying before the crucifix gives the same vibes. One powerful example is St. Ignatius of Loyola’s prescription on praying before Christ crucified.
He suggested that we ask three questions as we pray before the Cross: What have I done for you? What am I doing for you? What ought I to do for you?
According to some stories, it was this prayer exercise that led to St. Francis Xavier’s decision to be one of the first seven companions in the Society of Jesus.
Fr. Catalino G. Arevalo, S.J. used to tell us that people come to us priests and ask us to pray for them because of their perception of our intimacy with the Lord.
This intimacy is projected by the Good Shepherd and his flock, as well as the Cross as a sign of Jesus’ perfect love for us—his laying down his life for us because we are his friends and he loves us.
Then the end of the Gospel gave us a powerful synthesis represented by both the Good Shepherd and the Christ Crucified. “I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly.”
The protection, the guidance, the intimate relationship between the Good Shepherd and his flock, between Jesus and us, his disciples, all lead to this grace—that we “might have life and have it more abundantly.”
