In this Sunday’s Gospel, Jesus gives us one of the quietest and most powerful images in all of Scripture. The sheep follow the shepherd because they recognize his voice. They will not follow a stranger, he says, because they do not recognize the voice of strangers. It is a simple pastoral image, and yet it cuts straight to the question every one of us is living with, whether we know it or not. Whose voice am I actually listening to?
We live in a world saturated with voices. Our phones buzz from the moment we wake up. Social media scrolls endlessly. Podcasts play in our ears on the commute. Advertising finds us on every screen we own. And a new figure has emerged in our culture: the influencer. Influencers are charming and polished, and they appear to be simply sharing their lives. But most of them are being paid, often handsomely, to say what they are saying. The skincare they swear by, the travel destination they adore, the supplement that changed their life — much of it is sponsored. The voice is compelling, but the message has been purchased. Somebody paid for you to listen.
Jesus is telling us that discernment is everything. The sheep are not stupid. They know the difference between a voice that genuinely cares for them and a voice that is using them. A shepherd calls his sheep by name. A thief climbs over the wall to take what he wants. In today’s Gospel, Jesus is blunt. The thief comes only to steal and slaughter and destroy. I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly.
Thank God our lives are not filled only with paid voices. We have been blessed with genuine influences, people who have spoken into our lives with love and no agenda. For most of us the first of these is our parents. Long before we could evaluate whose voice to trust, our parents were teaching us who we are, how to love, how to be honest, how to get back up when we fall. Even parents who struggled or fell short were, in their best moments, pointing us toward something bigger than themselves. A good parent is a kind of under-shepherd. Grandparents, teachers, coaches, godparents, a faithful friend who tells us the truth when we do not want to hear it: these are the voices that shape us. They are gifts from God.
And beneath all of them is the voice of the Good Shepherd himself. Jesus is the voice the best influences in our lives are echoing. Saint Peter in our Second Reading puts it plainly: “You had gone astray like sheep, but you have now returned to the shepherd and guardian of your souls.” That is every Christian’s story. We have wandered, listened to voices that did not love us, and Jesus keeps calling us back by name.
So the question for this Easter season is practical. Who are the voices shaping my day? What am I feeding my heart and my mind? Am I giving more time to scrolling than to silence, more trust to opinions for sale than to the Scriptures handed down for my salvation? Tuning our ears to the voice of the Good Shepherd is not complicated. It is the Mass. It is the Scriptures. It is prayer, even five honest minutes a day. It is conversation with people of real faith. These are the practices that help us tell the shepherd’s voice from a stranger’s.
There is so much joyful life at St. Simon right now that shows what it looks like when people listen to that true voice. This weekend we welcome our children who are making their First Holy Communion. Please join me in rejoicing with their families. These children, beautifully prepared by our catechists and their parents, are encountering Jesus in the Eucharist for the first time. Pray for them. Smile at them when you see them. The voice of the Good Shepherd is calling each of them by name.
As Good Shepherd Sunday, this weekend also brings our annual second collection for the Diocesan Priests Retirement Fund. Many priests have served the people of our Diocese for decades, often on very modest compensation, and they now depend on this fund for their care in retirement. I think of the priests who baptized us, married us, sat with us in hospital rooms, heard our confessions, buried our parents. They gave their whole lives to shepherding God’s people in our Diocese. Now it is our turn to care for them. Please be as generous as you are able. You can give in the second collection or online by selecting the fund 225002 Priests Retirement Fund HERE
We have launched our Bold Vision for the Future capital campaign, and I am grateful for the response so far. Seventy years ago, a group of parishioners planted the seeds of St. Simon on an apricot orchard so that we could have what we enjoy today. Now it is our turn to plant seeds of faith for the next generation: the children not yet born, the families not yet arrived, the young adults who will walk through our doors years from now looking for something real. Our Education and Spirituality Center will be the place where they hear the voice of the Good Shepherd. In the weeks ahead, I will share more about how each of us can respond. For now, I ask your prayers and your open hearts.
Whose voice are you listening to today? May it be the voice that calls you by name, the voice that leads you out, the voice that came so that you might have life and have it more abundantly.
God Bless,
Fr. Brendan