If I am not mistaken, these are the exact words shepherds use to call sheep. Or maybe not. The closest I’ve ever gotten to a sheep was on a dinner plate in France. “Can I get this cooked more, s’il vous plaît!“

I’ve heard today’s gospel (Jn 10:11-18) countless times. However, what was staggeringly obvious to listeners then has evaded the rest of us since. Evidently, there is a clear meaning that I am embarrassed to admit which eluded me until now. The people of his time may have understood and been shocked, or spellbound. Jesus proclaimed himself as a different kind of shepherd. A good shepherd “who lays down his life for his sheep.”

Critical data can be lost in translation to modern suburbanites regarding the dynamic of farm animals and how to care for them. Jesus says, “I am the good Shepherd…” and we’re like, cool, you take care of sheep. Upon deeper investigation from those incredibly wiser than I, this statement Jesus makes packs a punch both then and now.

Shepherds take care of sheep because sheep take care of shepherds by providing food and clothing for their families. One can hardly borrow a lamb shank for roasting and expect the sheep to return frolicking in the pasture. No, it meant the life of the sheep. Getting a haircut in the shearing season was one thing; becoming a rack of lamb was something altogether different. Shepherds needed the sheep to survive. Jesus turns this reality of life upside down, boldly proclaiming that he is the shepherd who will lay down his life for the sheep.

“Say what?”

Ridiculous! Who dies instead of dinner?

Our food brings us temporary pleasure and life. Essentially, eat, sleep, work, and repeat. Then we die. Jesus proposes that He instead becomes the food we eat; he becomes the clothes we wear. Jesus says, “Do not work for food that perishes but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you…” (Jn6:27). Further on, Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me will never hunger, and whoever believes in me will never thirst. (Jn6:35). He is connecting the dots, so we understand what this good shepherd is about. We are to eat his flesh in the Eucharist for eternal life. In Baptism, we are clothed in Christ. 

This switch-a-roo, in the role of the shepherd, is excellent news. Remarkably, I could not see that earlier. I’ve asked around, and it is also unknown to others. (I feel slightly less dumb). Jesus doesn’t simply want us to be satisfied with lamb chops and a wool sweater. He wants to fill us with his life and protect us in sacred clothing that initiates us into the family of God.

The ball is in our court; we can believe what he is declaring with the eyes of faith or settle for lamb stew that ends in the toilet. Having our stew and eating it in the heavenly banquet that never ends is possible. 

Preferably, my lamb will be made of the finest chocolate!