Fourth Sunday of Easter Year C
Acts 13:14, 43-52
Psalm 100:1-2, 3, 5
Revelation 7:9, 14b-17
John 10:27-30
After initially drawing big crowds, Paul and Barnabas ended with a frigid exit from Antioch, but they were not deterred. Their messaging wasn’t exactly complimentary to the locals as they presented the kerygma to them by saying, “ … you reject it and condemn yourselves as unworthy of eternal life.” But their bold tone was appropriate in the sense that they were praising those who had accepted the Gospel and challenging those who had not. “The Gentiles were delighted when they heard this,” naturally. Then trouble was stirred up among the obstinate leaders (a “persecution”). The missionary heroes seemed unfazed by their messy, mixed success, as “they shook the dust from their feet in protest against them, and went to Iconium. The disciples were filled with joy and the Holy Spirit.”
Contrast this partial victory on earth with the apocalyptic revelation of Heaven: “I, John, had a vision of a great multitude, which no one could count, from every nation, race, people and tongue.” The full throng of the blessed in glory “stand before God’s throne and worship Him day and night in His temple.” It’s a triumphant yet peaceful scene, distinguished by tranquil, prayerful focus on the divine, free from life’s troubles. “They will not hunger or thirst anymore.” We pray that we, too might be among “the ones who have survived the time of great distress.”
Perhaps our earthy messiness warrants the Gospel’s preference for agrarian metaphors. Our Lord never seems content with a straightforward analogy; there’s always an unexpected twist, just like the regular disruptions on cluttered farms. “My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life.” But normal sheep are not raised to live forever. They have a kind of built-in expiration date. So do we. Also, this fold is strangely convoluted in its leadership structure. Ironically, “the Lamb who is in the center of the throne will shepherd them.” We are also assumed to be much more theologically astute and spiritually inclined than these notoriously simple animals generally are found to be: “Know that the Lord is God; He made us, His we are; His people, the flock He tends.” The wilier and more stubborn goats, on the other hand, might grasp the central concepts better, but don’t always play too well with the other beasts (and their keeper). Ewes and rams can be naively overly trusting, but their cantankerous counterparts lack in following instructions. Chaos in the grazing ground can arise just as easily as in our own experience of interpersonal tensions and social disorder.
The Good Shepherd has become one of the sheep in Christ, God-made-man. He pastors on the ground, compassionate with our needs and experiences. In no way does that compromise His divinity: “The Father and I are one.” Without the unity of the Father and the Son (as well as the Holy Spirit), the Messiah quickly devolves into a sort of illusionist wisdom guru. The miracles get explained away, doubted or dismissed. If He hasn’t been raised from the dead, all the teachings and parables are clever but sharp-tongued infighting with Pharisees, Sadducees, etc. … the opposite of the conversion He desired for His beloved flock. No more drinking from murky wells, just “springs of life-giving water.” They need His promise that “they shall never perish. No one can take them out of my hand.” Otherwise, the poor creatures are doomed to have their lovely white wool forever matted with the gross slop of sin, a far cry from the Church in her full serene splendor.
We need not await the Lord’s return and definitive final judgment to sort out and clean up this wild herd to appreciate His plan of providence. These imperfections might not feel pristinely sacred when conditions are less than copacetic, but He never intended His Church to be a sterilized environment. It would then be sterile. The pasture would be pasteurized. Think more along the lines of a muddy stockyard, teeming with activity, filled with lively adventure and charming countryside bustle. When our efforts at evangelization aren’t as wildly bountiful as we hoped, or we have family members struggling to practice their faith, or parish life seems to be lagging in fervor, or our own interior prayer needs improvement, we have good precedent: The apostles cleaned their boots but went trudging along their way to continue their holy work. The sloppy barnyard lifestyle of the Church defies our pat preconceptions, but it is destined for peaceful perfection in eternity.