Homily for Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
This week, once again, the world watched anxiously as death and destruction descended on the people of the Middle East. Throughout history, there has been restlessness at this crossroads of civilizations, with their diverse cultures, religions and competing political ambitions. Today's scripture readings, on tranquility and the caring shepherd, emerged from the same geographic location at equally violent times. The bible is not a handbook for ignoring evil and violence; but it does challenge us to survive this evil, and even to heal and redeem it.
The unifying image in today's readings is that of the caring shepherd. "I will raise up shepherds and look after them and pasture them". Jeremiah prophesies in the first reading. The psalmist sings: "The Lord is my shepherd, there is nothing I shall want..." According to Mark's gospel, when Jesus saw the large crowd, the first image that came to his mind was "sheep without a shepherd". The image of the shepherd is one of the more powerful and prevalent through the scriptures, in both the Old and the New Testaments. This is so precisely because the shepherd was central to the world from which the scriptures emerged. Jesus was a wandering preacher. He travelled through the hills and the valleys of his native Palestine. Meeting shepherds herding their sheep would have been an everyday experience for him. However, the shepherding of sheep was a far more demanding task in the world in which Jesus grew up. The shepherd stayed in the field with his sheep all day, protecting them from wolves and such wild animals. At night-time, he herded them into the sheepfold or the pen. There they are more easily protected. In the morning he will lead them off to new pastures. And, he will lead them, not drive them, walking ahead of the sheep and calling each by name. If one gets lost, he will leave the ninety nine there and go off in search of the lost one. The 99 could look after each other. From this, it will be obvious how promising an image the shepherd is for a pastoral people. The reason for its popularity with all the scriptural writers is obvious. The shepherd is a figure of care and compassion; he is a protector and a leader. If the shepherd is a good shepherd, he will, if necessary, lay down his life for his sheep. The life and the death of Jesus was to conform perfectly to the image of the Good Shepherd.
In our first reading today from the prophet Jeremiah, the leaders of Israel have not been good shepherds. "Doom to the shepherds who allowed the flock to be destroyed and scattered." In the eyes of the prophets this was the greatest failure of all: to allow the flock to be scattered. Because a scattered flock can no longer be guided, protected or sustained. Political organisation had collapsed in the Israel of Jeremiah's day. Half of its people had been carried into exile. The same fate would soon befall the other half. Jeremiah attributes the dispersal of the population of Israel to the failure of the shepherds. But his condemnation ends on a note of hope: "I will raise up shepherds and look after them and pasture them. I will raise up a virtuous branch fro David who will reign as true king and be wise." Here Jeremiah is faithfully fulfilling his role as a true prophet: while exposing faults and failures, he is also putting new heart into his people.
Last Sunday's gospel recounted the sending out of the twelve on their mission of preaching and healing. There is a great urgency and a frenetic activity associated with the sending out of those first disciples. In today's extract they have returned from that mission and are rendering to their Master an account of their labours. For a man who was so single-minded in his mission, Jesus reacts in a surprising manner: He behaves as a true shepherd to his flock. He says to them: 'What you need now is not work but rest.' "Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest for a while." This is reminiscent of a similar invitation issued in John's gospel: 'Come to me all you who labour and are burdened, and I will give you rest.' The true shepherd will discern the needs of the moment.
Frenetic activity is one factor that divides us within ourselves. Frenetic activity is counter productive. It is not healthy and it is not necessary. When we lose ourselves in action, we absorbed into a world outside our souls. We lose perspective. Life moves at such an accelerating pace today that distance and occasional withdrawal are more necessary than ever. The pastoral setting in which the gospel came to birth is far removed from the concrete jungles in which 21st century people live out their lives. As I pointed out earlier, the most powerful images of scripture are pastoral and are at odds with an urban, concrete culture. Images such as the Good Shepherd, the Vinedresser, the Lord of the Harvest, the hen gathering her chicks under her wings, will not find an immediate response in an urban setting. Yet, properly understood, these images are powerful and significant.
All of these images speak to us of God's graciousness, of a God who cares for and engages with his people. In an increasingly impersonal world, there is a growing need for a shepherd who will call each by name. Despite the preponderance of so many labour-saving devices, despite the proliferation of highways and bypasses, we were never so subject to stress as we are today. Stress and burnout are widely recognised features of modern life. This need for rest and for finding time to be with the Lord and our families is the wisdom behind keeping the Lord's Day holy. It is the wisdom behind the invitation of the Lord into day's gospel: 'Come away to some lonely place and rest for a while.' Sunday enables us to recover, to withdraw from frenetic activity, to regain a sense of what is important in life, to return to work on Monday morning refreshed from having come apart to a lonely place. But, I fear, the wisdom of the Good Shepherd has been lost on many of us.