Ordinary 34 Christ, King of the Universe

The Thirty-Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

The Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe

Ezekiel 34:11-12, 15-17; Psalm 23; 1 Corinthians 15: 20-26, 28; Matthew 25:3-46

Probably the most prevalent biblical image of Jesus is that of the Good Shepherd. What Protestant Church does not have a prominent stained glass window of this image? Is not Psalm 23 possibly the most beloved and well–known of the psalms? The image was used in the ancient world for kings and priests as we continue to do for our bishops.

But the caring image of a shepherd walking among his sheep, in the passage of Ezekiel, is turned into one of grave concern. The shepherd finds that his flock is scattered. And that he must seek them out from various hidden places. There are sheep that are lost, injured, and sick and those who have strayed.  This is a flock in disarray. Whoever was responsible for the sheep has failed to carry out their obligations.

This disconnect of images again became sorely real and painful for me as I began reading the media reports of the unprecedented Vatican study that was released 10 November 2020 in regard to the clerical sexual abuse of the former Cardinal Archbishop of Washington, Theodore McCarrrick. The report relates how the system, popes, curial cardinals and members of the American hierarchy disregarded reports and warnings and believed misleading accounts and personal denials rather than have a presumption for the sheep.

How many of us have been scattered, have strayed and are deeply injured by such reports over the years? How many of us have become cynical, if not about the Church, then about its clergy? How many people have permanently left the Christian community, the betrayal too great to bear? Where is our trust and faith?

I’ve always had a problem with the image of God’s people as sheep. Sheep are considered to be dumb animals. Well, we are not a stupid people. We are a wounded people. We have been wounded by the ones who were to have walked among us to fight for us. We overlook the image in Psalm 23 that the shepherd is armed to the teeth, a rod in one hand and a staff in the other.

For what purpose? To respond when provoked and protect the flock. This is not a Jesus, meek and mild, but one who walks among us with resolve.

We are a scattered people. We are scattered because of betrayal within our Church. We are scattered because of the pandemic. We are scattered due to an atmosphere that has polarized us from even talking with each other. We are scattered within our nation. Unable to maintain our attention span, we are scattered emotionally.

We hurt each other. Unintentionally. On purpose. We fail each other. Stretching beyond our reach. We disappoint… We disappoint ourselves…and each other. I expect, we disappoint God.

In a period when life is changing very fast, when traditions that sustained us and gave us an identity are found wanting and empty, when leadership and institutions falter and fail us, when trust is suspect, where does a wounded people turn?

I offer, it is to the word “I.” “I” is a word that embodies a presence. I AM WHO I AM. A sacred yet perplexing name. Yet through the prophet Ezekiel, “I” is a presence, a person who speaks to us: I myself will look after…my sheep. I will tend…I will rescue…I will pasture…I will give rest…I will seek, bring back, bind up…I will heal…

The words of promise cascade over us like a spring rain. There is no intermediary. God is personally and intimately choosing to be involved in our lives.

This is how it has always been.

It was God who made leather garments and clothed Adam and Eve before banishment from the garden. It was God who marked the fratricidal Cain so that no one would kill him on sight. It was God who gave instructions to Noah for the ark that saved him, his family and creation from the flood. It was God who by a great pillar of fire and cloud led Israel through the desert to the Promised Land while feeding them with manna, quail and water. It was God… It has always been God. God tending, binding up, seeking, healing, nurturing and gathering that which is scattered.

In our own vulnerable humanity, we may want to recall that in ancient Rome there was slave who rode in the chariot with a triumphant military general entering the city. His role was simply to keep repeating in the general’s ear: “Hominem te esse memento” – “Remember you are mortal”.

In these uncertain, frustrating, isolating, confused times we might want to have in the back of our minds at all times that our national leaders, our bishops, our friends and family, our institutions, which deserve our respect, our support, and a healthy dose of skepticism are, like us, mortal, scattered and wounded. Lower the expectations we have for them. Pray for the gift of humility in all of us. Then let us put our deepest trust where it belongs as we sing and pray, “The Lord God is my shepherd…” and in our act of faith, let us hear the voice of the Good Shepherd, “Come to me all you who labour and are heavy burdened and I will refresh you.”