YEARS AGO, WHEN MY wife was a young girl, she would ride into the mountains of Mexico with her grandfather to gather his goats. The land was unfenced, and his flock was scattered among many others. Yet her grandfather knew his goats—and they knew him. He would whistle, call them by name and soon they would gather around him. There was no chasing, no driving—only leading and following.
In the catacombs beneath Rome, there is a simple image from the second century: the Good Shepherd, standing among his sheep, one resting across his shoulders. Most early Christians could not read, but they understood that image. It revealed who Jesus is and what he came to do. The Good Shepherd shows that God is not distant, but One who enters into relationship—a God who knows, calls and leads us. Without Him, we wander and scatter.
So many voices demand our attention— promising fulfillment, success or happiness—but they cannot satisfy us because they are not His voice. A shepherd teaches lambs his voice from birth. Similarly, Jesus calls us by name at baptism. We learn to recognize His voice through prayer, the sacraments and Sacred Scripture, tuning out the noise and responding more readily to Him. Jesus proclaims, “I came so that they might have life, and have it more abundantly (Jn. 10:10).” But what is this “abundant life?” It is not what the world tells us. It is not about power or accumulation. It is not about having more, but about being more—more loving, more whole, more alive in God. It is a life imitating Jesus: generosity, gratitude, mercy and joy. Not about getting but giving; not possessing but sharing what is already present in Creation.
When we live only for ourselves, it is like carrying water in buckets that leak— always thirsty; like putting coins into pockets full of holes— never filled. The more we get or take, the less abundant life seems. But when we live for others, the life of Christ wells up within us; as the psalm says, “my cup overflows (Ps. 23:5),” pouring out purpose for others.
In today’s Gospel (Jn. 10:11), we are not just the sheep—we are also called to be shepherds. At times we can act as good shepherds, thieves or hired hands who run when the wolf comes. How do we care for those entrusted to us—our families, friends, co-workers, our parish, especially those we struggle to love? Are we stealing life from ourselves and others, or sharing its abundance?
To be a good shepherd requires both relationship and action, guiding, protecting, and sometimes sacrificing for others. The prophet Ezekiel teaches us to seek the lost, heal the injured and strengthen the weak (Ez. 34:16), showing one another that our lives matter and together we make a difference.
Perhaps you have witnessed someone living as a good shepherd. For me, it was my wife caring for our son during his recovery from addiction—tending to his needs, even sleeping on the floor by his doorway, like a shepherd guarding the sheepfold. My son later said he knew she was there, and it gave him strength to persevere. Her grandfather had taught her good shepherding.
So today we are faced with questions: in a world full of competing voices, whose voice are we following? What kind of shepherd are we becoming? Does our voice sound like Jesus? Were we present when someone truly needed us? Have we added to someone’s burden or eased it? Jesus, the Good Shepherd, is still calling us by name—leading us to the only gate that opens to eternity. “The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want (Ps. 23:1),” …life in abundance.