An open door to freedom and life
Year A – Easter – 4th Sunday
John 10:1–10: “Very truly I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep.”
We are on the Fourth Sunday of Easter, the so-called Sunday of the Good Shepherd, midway through the Easter season which lasts fifty days. After the first three Sundays dedicated to the appearances of the Risen Lord, we now move towards the Ascension of the Lord and Pentecost, the culmination of this journey. The Sunday readings prepare us for these two great feasts through three main themes, drawn from three writings of the New Testament.
In the first reading, the theme of the Church emerges: through the Book of the Acts of the Apostles we retrace the first steps of the Christian community, guided by the Holy Spirit.
In the second reading, we find the theme of Christian life: the First Letter of Saint Peter teaches us how to live as Christians even in a hostile context.
In the Gospel, finally, a great catechesis on the person of Jesus unfolds through several passages from the Gospel of John.
On the occasion of the Sunday of the Good Shepherd, the Church celebrates the World Day of Prayer for Vocations. We are invited to pray more earnestly to the Lord of the harvest, that he may grant the Church shepherds after the heart of Christ.
I am the gate
After the first statements (vv. 1–5), we might expect Jesus to say, “I am the shepherd of the sheep,” making everything immediately clear. Indeed, the image of God as the shepherd of his people is well present in Scripture, in the Psalms and the Prophets (cf. Jeremiah 23:1–6; Ezekiel 34:1–31; Isaiah 40:10). It was therefore expected that the Messiah would be the great Shepherd.
Instead, in the typically enigmatic style of the Gospel of John, Jesus declares: “I am the gate for the sheep.” Only later will he say: “I am the good shepherd” (vv. 11–18). Why this choice?
To follow the Shepherd, the sheep must first be set free from the enclosures that keep them imprisoned. The first enclosure is that of death. Christ, through his death and resurrection, has thrown open the gates of hell and has himself become the gate to life. He is the gate that protects the flock, but above all guarantees freedom: “Whoever enters through me will be saved; they will come in and go out, and find pasture.”
Christ watches over his people so that laws or institutions do not turn the sheepfold into a place of imprisonment or a space of restricted freedom. He came that we may have life, and have it in abundance. From this arises an important question: how do we live, within the Church, the freedom and responsibility that God desires for his children?
The Lord is my shepherd
The responsorial psalm is Psalm 22, among the best known and most loved of the Psalter: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.” It is a precious opportunity to rediscover it in prayer, savouring its depth.
The image of Christ the Good Shepherd was very dear to the early Christians, as the depictions in the catacombs testify. Its fundamental characteristic is that he “lays down his life for the sheep”. One might therefore say that the Good Shepherd is the “gentle” version of the Crucified.
The image of the shepherd requires an effort of identification with a cultural context different from our own. Today no one wishes to be called a “sheep” or to belong to a “flock”. Yet, in different ways, we still are. Only that “shepherds”, “sheep” and “flocks” now go by other names: leaders, sports idols, media gurus, influencers, fans, supporters, clubs, populisms… We need to be attentive in order to discern who are truly shepherds and who, instead, are thieves and robbers. The criterion proposed by Jesus is to pass through the gate, that is, to adhere to his values.
I am the beautiful shepherd
“I am the good shepherd.” It is interesting to note that the Greek adjective used by the evangelist is not agathos (good), but kalos, that is, “beautiful”. The literal translation would therefore be: “I am the beautiful shepherd.”
This nuance opens up a significant perspective: goodness makes a person beautiful, and beauty is the radiance of goodness, as Plato teaches. Jesus is the manifestation not only of goodness, but also of beauty. Beauty and goodness are deeply intertwined, as Gianfranco Ravasi emphasises.
Fyodor Dostoevsky wrote in the novel The Idiot: “Beauty will save the world.” This insight was taken up by Cardinal Carlo Maria Martini in the pastoral letter Which Beauty Will Save the World? (1999).
He observes that it is not enough to denounce evil or to recall values such as justice and the common good. It is necessary to bear witness to the beauty of goodness through a lived love, capable of stirring enthusiasm and attracting hearts.
Authentic beauty is denied when evil seems to prevail, when violence and hatred replace love and justice. But it also fades when joy disappears, when faith loses its momentum and no longer radiates the fervour of those who follow the Lord of history.
Our world needs this beauty; it needs our witness. A witness which, even when it is expressed amid the crosses of life, preserves its light and its beauty, following the model of the “good confession” made by Jesus before Pontius Pilate (1Timothy 6:13).
Fr Manuel João Pereira Correia, MCCJ
Fr. Manuel João, comboni missionary
Sunday Reflection
from the womb of my whale, ALS
Our cross is the pulpit of the Word
