Sixteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time: In Need Of Shepherds

Today’s Gospel follows what we heard last week, where Jesus sent-out his Apostles to preach, to teach and to heal. As we hear today, they returned and reported-back to Jesus. They were tired and needed some space to rest, but also to reflect on what they had done. But the rest and quiet reflection was not to be, at least for now, because the crowds—with souls hungry for what Jesus and his Apostles had to offer—were following them.

I can imagine that for a brief moment, Jesus sighed at the sight. But St. Mark tells us that he“saw the vast crowd, his heart was moved with pity for them, for they were like sheep without a shepherd”. This notion of lacking a shepherd’s care appears in other places in the Scriptures, and it seems to consistently infer that without a shepherd, the people—the sheep—are prone to scatter, becoming lost and vulnerable.

As a worldwide Roman Catholic Church, and even in this Archdiocese, we have a number of things we need to be stronger. We must find more ways to care for those who are lost and those who are in need; we need to better support each other as Christian community; to help find solutions to the need for reform of immigration policies, even as we care for the immigrant; to advocate more boldly and convincingly to causes of life, family and human sexuality; to better empower the lay-faithful, those of the common priesthood. The list goes on.

But I also think of Jesus’ observation from today’s Gospel: that the people seemed shepherd-less. I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know, in saying that there’s a shortage of priests in our Church, and I believe it stifles our ability to carry-out Jesus’ mission.

For sure, it's also important to consider the need for more women religious, as well as our learning to better draw upon the gifts of the laity. But based on today’s readings, speaking specifically of shepherds, I’ll speak regarding the need for more priests.

You may be aware that since this parish was established in 1963, it has produced only one priest for the Church, and that one priest serves somewhere on the east coast, not locally. Of the hundreds and hundreds of amazing young men who grew up in this parish, we might wonder how that can be.

I suspect that some of them missed their true calling. Why? We could cite a handful of reasons. I think part of the problem is that precious few of them were asked to seriously consider this calling. My job is to ask our parish sons Have you ever thought about being a priest? And to our parish daughters: Have you ever thought about being a sister? But it requires more than just a fleeting question, followed by a knee-jerk response. One’s vocation in life, requires prayerful discernment, and properly, a platform for discernment.

Several years ago, I created a group for young men to discern their call to holiness and their vocation. For years, we met monthly. There was no pressure, just cultivating holiness and through discussion, talking about what priesthood is. For the young men who attended, I think most found it beneficial. As we come out of Covid, I intend to begin again, and to invite young men to join me. Please be open to it.

Again, we can blame any number of things for why this parish has produced only one religious vocation: society itself, with its persistent message that what matters most in life are material wealth, power and comfort. Maybe it’s whatever it is that frustrates us about the Church, or sinful priests, uninspiring priests, or lack of communities for young religious women—but one of the things I think often fights against it, is fear held by parents. Yes, amazing parents who love their sons and daughters. Perhaps it can be simply described as a fear that life in the Church will leave their son or daughter unfulfilled. On one hand, it may sound attractive, but on another, they can’t sufficiently trust in it. And whatever way our sons and daughter already have fears, confusion, or are enticed by what society tells them is important, it’s surely magnified by their parent’s fears.

Occasionally I’ll ask the children of the parish or of our school to raise their hand if they believe I enjoy being a priest. By the way, imagine me speaking to a group of young men: “You’ll make a vow of obedience and serve however the bishop wants you to. It's not very good pay and no sex….So, who's interested?” But in asking the children if they believe I enjoy being a priest, nearly all of the hands go up. Then I ask them why they believe I enjoy being a priest. Their answers are insightful: “You love God…..you like helping people….you get to celebrate Mass….you want people to go to heaven...”

In any way parents struggle to trust—whether in the vocation of priesthood itself, or even believing in their son—I remind you: They were God’s sons/daughters first. He entrusted them to you, to help them become holy, set apart for Him. Trust in His call for them. My appeal for religious vocations is not merely to rescue the Church or for our parish to simply do its share, it’s for something much bigger—if we help them find God’s calling, they’ll come to be most fully alive, and even more, they’ll be instruments in making the Kingdom of God unfold.

That we might not be without shepherds, we pray, Lord, that you would provide us more priests, to act in the person of Christ, to sustain us with the Eucharist. For this we fervently plead, because without priests there is no Eucharist, and without the Eucharist we cannot live.

 

McKenzi VanHoof