Christ tells us clearly Who He is and how important we are to Him. “I am the Good Shepherd. The Good Shepherd lays down his life for his sheep.” He contrasts a good shepherd with a mercenary, a hired hand, who, when danger appears in the form of thieves or wolves, immediately flees and allows the sheep to be stolen, harmed or killed. The Good Shepherd defends the sheep at the risk of his own life.
Jesus used the image of the shepherd laying down his life for his sheep to communicate how much He loved us. On face value, it is absurd for a human being to give his own life to save an animal’s. Sometimes we can grow to have such affection for our pets that we make all types of sacrifices for them and their care, but most of us would realize the absurdity of giving our lives to save, for example, a hamster. Minimally, if we were to die for them, they would be left without an owner and would not be able to make it on their own. But if it is absurd for a human to trade his life for an animal’s, think about what it would mean for God to trade His life for a human being's. The distance between a man and an animal is infinitesimal compared to the gap between God and man. Yet that is what God did. He emptied Himself and became a man so that He could trade His life to save our own. Then Jesus turned to us and told us to love others as He has loved us, to be willing to give our lives for them, even if we think they’re beneath us.
Our love for others is also the criterion of our love for Christ. The Lord showed us that after the Resurrection, when He met Peter at the shore of the Sea of Galilee and asked him three times, “Simon, Son of John, do you love Me?” Three times Peter responded, “Yes, Lord, You know that I love You.” To the first yes, Jesus said “Feed My lambs”; to the second, “Tend My sheep”; and to the third, “Feed My sheep.” His love for the Lord would be shown by how well he fed and tended Christ’s own sheep, the sheep whom Christ had come from heaven to save. Likewise, Christ said to each of us not “Love Me as I have loved you,” but “Love one another as I have loved you.” Our love for the Lord will be shown by the love we have for the members of His flock. They are our brothers and sisters.
But looking at them as our brothers or sisters, and treating each one as our brother or sister, is not even enough. Jesus gives us an even stronger image: they’re His brothers and sisters, too, and our care for them, He tells us, is our care for Him. Jesus tells us that when He comes to judge us, He will judge us on one thing: the love we showed for Him in our brothers and sisters. He said He would separate us into two groups, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will put those destined for heaven on His right, and those destined for hell on His left.
To those who are saved, He will say, “Come, you who are blessed by My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave Me food, I was thirsty and you gave Me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed Me, I was naked and you gave Me clothing, I was sick and you took care of Me, I was in prison and you visited Me.” Those on His right will ask, “Lord, when did we do any of these good deeds for You?” He said He will respond, “As often as you did it for the least of My brothers and sisters, you did it for Me” (Mt 25:34-40). He takes personally every good action, given not just to those whom we esteem and admire, but to those toward whom we might be tempted to condescend, the “least” of this world, the “least” of Jesus’ family.
To those on His left, He will say the saddest words that will ever be heard, which will pierce His sacred heart to the core: “Depart from Me, you accursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry and you gave Me no food; I was thirsty and you told Me to get a job; I was a stranger and you told Me I was an illegal alien and refused to help Me; naked and you gawked at Me; sick and you said I was somebody else’s problem to care for; in prison and you said I deserved to die” (cf. Mt 25:41-43). These people will go to eternal perdition, not necessarily because they did evil, but because they did nothing. We see the same lesson in the parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man in St. Luke’s Gospel (Lk 16). The Rich Man ended up eternally lost not because he did any tangible harm to the poor man at his door, but because he never did anything to help him. In turning his back on Lazarus, the Rich Man was turning his back on Christ.
At the end of March, I was invited to Ave Maria University in Naples, Florida, to give some talks to the college students and seminarians. They had just received the donation of several modern, bronze statues. Later, as I was walking around the campus, I saw one statue that I’ll never forget. It was of a hooded man sitting on the outdoor steps leading to the refectory — stretching out his hand like a beggar. In the afternoon sunlight, at first, I thought it was a real man and not a statue — an image which stood out in sharp contrast to the surroundings in one of the wealthiest places in our country. So I drew closer to look at the statue more closely. Then I saw the outstretched hand and noticed something peculiar about it. There was a hole in the middle of it — a scar, left by a nail mark. I was stunned. That was a statue of Jesus Christ begging, reminding all of the students to look beyond the appearances and see Christ in the disguise of those asking for alms.
Father Roger J. Landry is a priest of the Diocese of Fall River, Massachusetts, ordained in 1999. After receiving a biology degree from Harvard College, Fr. Landry studied for the priesthood in Maryland, Toronto, and for several years in Rome. He speaks widely on the thought of Pope John Paul II and on apologetics, and is presently parochial administrator of St. Anthony of Padua in New Bedford, Massachusetts, and Executive Editor of The Anchor, the weekly newspaper of the Diocese of Fall River. An archive of his homilies and articles can be found at catholicpreaching.com
This article is adapted from one of Father Landry’s recent homilies.
