I am the Good Shepherd

Christus Victor Congregation, Rome – 17 April 2026 Visitation Mass

Bishop Juhana Pohjola

Misericordia Domini – John 10:11–16

“I am the Good Shepherd.”

Even if none of us has sheep at home or knows a shepherd personally, we still

understand the image Jesus uses. Jesus is my shepherd. Tell me, what do these

words mean to you when you are afraid to go to the hospital for examinations?

When you are worried about whether your money will be enough? When you are

taking on new and demanding responsibilities? When you are among the mourners

at the funeral of a loved one? The awareness that Jesus is my Good Shepherd speaks

to the deepest part of our being in a profound way.

And yet, when we come to this text, we encounter two very different background

images of shepherding. The first is the image known to Jesus’ original hearers. At

that time, the term “shepherd” had several meanings. It was used for rulers, such as

King David, and for leaders of nations, like the Pharaoh of Egypt. But a shepherd was

also a rather lowly and poorly regarded profession. Shepherds were considered

religiously unclean and dishonest. So when Jesus speaks of himself as a shepherd, he

stands at the same time both at the very top and the very bottom of society.

When Jesus speaks about the Good Shepherd and the hired hands, there is also the

reality of two kinds of flocks in the background: the large flocks of wealthy owners

and the small flocks of ordinary families. A flock of sheep was, in a sense, the

supermarket of that time. From one sheep, about 100 liters of milk could be

obtained annually—some of which was made into cheese, perhaps formaggio

pecorino with a Galilean flavor, yogurt, wool for clothing, and meat for celebrations.

In hot weather, the flock would move within a radius of 10–15 kilometers during the

day. A flock could consist of up to a hundred sheep. Large landowners employed

hired shepherds to tend their flocks. But typically, an ordinary family had its own

small flock. How different, then, would a shepherd’s relationship to the flock

be—and his willingness to defend it—if the family’s livelihood depended on it,

compared to a hired shepherd tending one flock among many belonging to a

wealthy owner?

Jesus identifies with both of these images, of the small and the large flock. He is the

shepherd who seeks the one and calls by name the few sheep of a family, but also

sees the great crowds who are like sheep without a shepherd. He is the shepherd

who carries one lamb in his arms and gathers the nations into his fold.

The focal point of Jesus’ words, however, is that he declares himself to be the Good

Shepherd promised in the Scriptures, the one who comes from heaven. He does not

merely say, “I am like a shepherd”—a kind, safe, and caring teacher. Nor does he say

that he is one shepherd among many teachers. He is the Good Shepherd. He is the

one and only true Shepherd. The prophets foretold a time when God himself would

be the shepherd. Isaiah writes: “Say to the cities of Judah: Behold your God… He will

tend his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms” (Isa. 40:11). Jesus

reveals his divine name and says: “I am”—the promised divine Shepherd.

Throughout the Old Testament runs also a warning and lament about false and evil

shepherds. Ezekiel writes: “The shepherds have fed themselves and have not fed my

sheep” (Ezek. 34:8). Time and again, the shepherds of Israel failed their flock. Even

the shepherd-king David was a bad shepherd when he took the poor man’s

lamb—that is, Uriah’s wife—for himself. Therefore, God promises to become the

Good Shepherd himself. Ezekiel writes: “I myself will be the shepherd of my sheep… I

will set up over them one shepherd” (34:23). Jesus is thus the promised heavenly

Good Shepherd who gives nourishment and rest that reach into eternity.

If this is the great biblical background to Jesus’ teaching, how different it sounds in

our ears. Our modern image of shepherding is very different. In the West, we live in

an individual-centered, consumer-driven world of endless digital possibilities. Does

not the modern person say: “I am the Good Sheep. I choose my own paths. I rest in

pastures that entertain me and drink from sources that interest me. I am the good

sheep. I do not listen to just one shepherd but to many different voices. And if it

feels good, I follow whichever seems most pleasant for a while. I am the Good

Sheep. I do not need guidance and protection—I need freedom to move and

choose. Even if that one exclusive and absolute shepherd, Jesus, is missing, I still

have 99 shepherds, influencers, and channels to choose from!”

I ask you, Christus Victor congregation: how can the flock of the Good Shepherd be

gathered in such a time? How can sheep be called to be a flock when, to many ears,

talk of following one shepherd and belonging to one flock, to one congregation,

sounds restrictive—even oppressive? And yet we see that more and more young

people are tired of being their own all-powerful sheep, the shepherds of their own

lives, wandering from place to place. And so many are seeking the voice of the Good

Shepherd and a flock in which they can walk safely.

Jesus himself answers what life in the flock of the Good Shepherd means. First, the

Good Shepherd says: “The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” I have

always found it difficult to understand Jesus’ criticism of the hired hands who flee:

“when he sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and flees.” What do you think?

Are they careless cowards? Or are they doing the right thing in escaping mortal

danger? I understand that a shepherd must care for and defend the sheep, but what

owner of a flock would exchange the life of a hired shepherd for five sheep? What

father would allow his son to die for animals? A shepherd not only may flee in the

face of death—he must! No animal, no sheep, is worth a human life.

And now I ask you: how much more valuable is the life of the Son of God compared

to human life? Is any human life more valuable than God’s? If it seems absurd for a

person to die for sheep, how much more unthinkable is it for God to die for human

beings—for the Creator to die for his creatures! And yet the heavenly Father looks

upon you in your mortal distress and says to his Son: “Be the Good Shepherd.

Struggle and die for my sheep. Be the sacrificial Lamb whose blood brings salvation

to this child of mine.” Oh, what incomprehensible love! What all-embracing grace!

This is the heart of the heavenly Father. This is the mind of the Shepherd—that you,

that no one, should be lost. And for what kind of sheep does he give his life? For

wandering, ungrateful, and self-sufficient sheep. And yet he loves all the way to the

Cross!

At Easter time, we proclaim in this city with joy to all: the risen Lord is Christus

Victor. But we add: Christus victor quia victima—he is the victor because he is the

victim! Through his sacrifice, he is the victor for me, for us, for the whole world. You

can add nothing and take nothing away, for the Good Shepherd has done everything

as a gift for you.

Second, the Good Shepherd says: “I know my own and my own know me.” The Good

Shepherd knows his sheep. The word “know” does not merely mean knowing facts

or conceptual understanding in the Greek sense. In the Hebrew sense, it means the

closest possible relationship and communion. Jesus compares this knowing to his

relationship with the Father, with whom he is one in essence.

I had a birthday a few weeks ago. To my surprise—or perhaps annoyance—I

received many greetings by email from companies and organisations with which I

had no personal relationship. They simply had my name and birth date in their

records. But how different it felt when my family woke me in the morning with a

song, a card, and embraces. It is one thing to know facts; it is another to be known.

Dear friends, Christianity includes deep intellectual understanding that is important

to study and learn. But belonging to the flock of the Good Shepherd means more.

The Christian congregation has public confession as its foundation, but it does not

gather merely around ideas or doctrines. That is why it is never enough for the

church to gather only around online teaching or to move from one Christian event

to another following different preachers. Nor does the congregation gather only to

read about the Good Shepherd. “I know my sheep and my sheep know me.” What

does this mean? It means that the Good Shepherd does not merely give information

about himself—he gives himself to you.

What else does coming to this altar mean than that the Good Shepherd says to you:

“I laid down my life for you. I know you. I see your guilt. I know your wounds. I know

your missteps. I hear your sighs. I forgive your sins. I will not abandon you.” And

what do you say to the Good Shepherd at this altar? “I know you, dear Savior. I hear

your gracious call. I receive your body and blood for my cleansing, strength, and joy.

You are mine, and I am yours.”

What does this knowing mean? It means that the Chief Shepherd, Jesus, gives you

under-shepherds. It means that shepherds Joshua and Lorenzo can say to you: “I

know you. I listen to you. I know your questions and your distress. I walk with you. I

will not abandon you. I absolve you from your sins, pray with you, and lead you to

green pastures of His Word.” And you say to your shepherd: “I know you. You are

my shepherd. Jesus has sent you to me. Walk with me and guide me with the voice

of the Good Shepherd. Feed me with the treasures of heaven and ward off the

attacks of wolves with the shepherd’s staff of the Word.”

It also means that we look at one another in this congregation and say: “I know you.

You do not walk alone. You walk in the same flock, under the care of the same

shepherd, on the way to the same home, building the same congregation, calling

others to the same pasture.” It means that we also know one another’s weaknesses

and see one another’s faults, yet we bear with one another, pray for one another,

and forgive one another, just as the Good Shepherd has forgiven us.

The bishop who ordained me once said: the church has two strengths— the Gospel

and calling by name. Jesus expressed the same: “I lay down my life for the sheep,

and I know my sheep and call them by name.” This is what we mean when we say in

my Church as a motto:: divine worship as life, congregation as home, and mission as

a way of life.

More than twenty years ago, my wife and I visited Rome for the first time. We went

to the catacombs, the burial places of the early centuries—the Catacombs of

Priscilla. There I saw some of the earliest Christian art, a third-century painting. This

was a place pagans called the city of the dead—a necropolis. Everyone lying there

had, aboit two thousand years ago, been abandoned by fortune. The hired shepherd

of life had fled when the wolf of death came.

Do you know what image we saw there, deep underground in the damp darkness?

What symbol had been painted for future generations—for us, and for this

congregation in Rome? The Good Shepherd with a sheep on his shoulders! There,

where life had departed. Where flesh had left only dry bones. Where no one knows

these unknown dead by name. There, in the lowest places of the earth, in the lair of

death’s wolf, we found the Good Shepherd. The Good Shepherd, the Lord Jesus, had

not abandoned his own. He had not fled before death, because he is the conqueror

of death. He knows his own even in the depths of the earth. He calls every skeleton

by name. His voice will one day resound both in the catacombs and in the grave

where you will be laid. He will raise them, you, and us, every one of us. He will seek

each of us and carry us on his shoulders to eternal green pastures and to waters of

refreshment.

For the Good Shepherd says to you and to us this promise from heaven: “I must

bring them also, and there will be one flock and one shepherd.”