Paulist Fr. Rich Andre preached this homily for the 4th Sunday of Easter on April 26, 2026 at Old St. Mary’s Catholic Church in Chicago, IL. The homily is based on the day’s readings: Acts 2:14a, 36-41; Psalm 23; 1 Peter 2:20b-25; and John 10:1-10.

The Fourth Sunday of Easter is called “Good Shepherd Sunday.” That’s because the gospel reading this weekend always comes from Jesus’ speeches in the Gospel of John about sheep and shepherds. Our first reading is not connected to this theme, however. It’s part of Peter’s speech on the day of Pentecost. But our other Scripture passages are also about sheep and the Good Shepherd:

• Our second reading rejoices that we, like sheep, “have returned to the shepherd and guardian of [our] souls.”
• In the gospel, Jesus declares that the sheep will follow the good shepherd, because they recognize his voice.
• Our psalm is probably the most beloved psalm in the United States, Psalm 23: “The LORD is my shepherd.”

But we live in the heart of a large city. What do most of us know about sheep and shepherds? In the homily today, I’ll talk about what I learned on the day I spent on a sheep farm 25 years ago.

Let’s celebrate that we are called to be members of the flock of the LORD, united by the mercy we continually receive from the Good Shepherd. 

Our Jewish ancestors were an earthy, practical people. They – and all people listening to Jesus speak – were familiar with sheep and shepherds in a way that eludes most of us today. Literary historians have discovered that Psalm 23 — our psalm today, “The LORD is my shepherd” — only became popular in the United States around the year 1860. As more people moved to the cities and less people worked with sheep, Psalm 23 became a more romantic ideal than a practical reality. How can we better understand the analogy of sheep and shepherds used throughout the Bible?

25 years ago, I spent a day with the seminarians of the Diocese of Pittsburgh on retreat at a sheep farm in Greene County, Pennsylvania. I don’t know how much help we were to John and Joan, the couple who tended the sheep, but we learned a lot!

Our utter dependence on God, our utter trust in God – that is what all these sheep and shepherd analogies in the Bible are about. The ancient Israelites lived in a time when life was much more tenuous. There was no social safety net. Israel was a weak nation, living in the hope that its neighbors would not attack it. In many ways, shepherds were “on the clock” 24/7. If they did not protect the sheep every minute of the day and night, the sheep ran the risk of wandering off a cliff, being attacked by hostile animals, or being stolen by thieves.

Sheep aren’t very quick to get moving in the proper direction. But as I learned 25 years ago, a shepherd can’t really rush the sheep along. When we chased the sheep to try to get them moving faster, we discovered that sheep can run very fast, just not all of them in the same direction you want them to go. (When we, like sheep, go astray, we don’t always aimlessly wander away from God. Sometimes, we bolt away!)  

And yes, shepherds really do give their sheep individual names. After the sheep had scattered, Joan invited us to call the sheep back. She told us the name of one of the sheep, and she advised us to call to it gently. We called, but the sheep didn’t move towards us, so we called louder, thinking that it hadn’t heard us. Then, Joan called the name of the sheep so softly, I didn’t think it could even hear her. Nevertheless, it immediately started walking back towards her! The sheep recognize the voice of the shepherd. 

You might have noticed that the Church makes a big deal about calling people by name in sacraments of commitment, to indicate that they have been called by God. At the Easter Vigil, we baptized Sinai, Gianna, and Albert by name. This Saturday, Bishop Bartosic will call each of the 47 students by name as he confirms them. When couples get married, they make their vows to one another by name.

Jesus is the good shepherd. He gently guides us along the right path. He calls us by name to follow him. He does not push or prod. And according to Jesus’ claims in today’s gospel passage, we can recognize his voice.  

Lots of people ask me how I heard the voice of Jesus inviting me to consider the priesthood. I’ve shared bits and pieces of that story already, and I don’t think today is not the day for me to share more. However, on this Good Shepherd Sunday, it’s a good time to remind ourselves that there are probably several people within the community of Old St. Mary’s Parish and School whom God is calling to consider becoming a religious sister, a religious brother, or a priest. We sent one member of our community — Mr. Brent Zey — to the Paulist Fathers’ “Come and See” discernment retreat in February in Wahington, DC. Their next discernment retreat is going to be in New York City on the last weekend of July. If there are any single Catholic men between the ages of 18 and 40 who would like to go on that retreat, the Chicago Paulists are willing to pay your airfare for you.

No matter how old we are, no matter what our station in life is, God continues to call us each by name. Let me offer two thoughts about how we can each continue discerning God’s call throughout our lives: 

1. Discernment is not something we just do on our own. Every sheep belongs to a flock. When a sheep follows the shepherd’s voice, it’s one of a group of sheep being led in the same direction. Often, the Good Shepherd speaks to us through the voices of the people around us. Perhaps YOU are the person called to invite someone else to have life and to have it more abundantly!
2. God doesn’t always lead us by the easiest path. When the situation gets too dangerous, the shepherd leads the flock into the corral to keep them protected. But for us sheep to graze and flourish, the shepherd must lead us back out through the same gate, away from the security of the corral. Becoming a priest has required me to take risks, but I am happier, healthier, more radiant, and more alive as a priest than I ever was as an engineer! 

The main point of the sheep and shepherd analogy, as it has been for three thousand years, is trust. No matter where we journey – be it through the bleached and arid Palestinian desert on 2,000 years ago, across cold and windy Pennsylvania farmland in November 2001, or on the tulip-filled streets of the South Loop of Chicago today – we have the ability to hear God’s voice.