WE are familiar with the usual lesson we can learn from the parable of the lost sheep. (cfr. Mt 18,12-14) Indeed, a Good Shepherd will always look for the lost sheep and would do everything, regardless of the sacrifices involved, to do so.
But an upshot of that parable that is often missed is how we can truly be a Good Shepherd ourselves. To look for the lost sheep is indeed already a tremendous responsibility, and undoubtedly a great manifestation of Christian love and concern. A truly Good Shepherd should not just be contented with that duty. He should see to it that all the sheep are led to their ultimate destination.
In this season of Advent, we are reminded that we should help each other pursue the real and ultimate goal of our life. This duty is somehow expressed in that gospel acclamation, “The day of the Lord is come. Behold, he comes to save us.”
Of course, the parable of the lost sheep simply talks about the furry animal whose end is simply to be eaten and whose fur is made use of. But we are not simply a flock of sheep. We are children of God who need to be reunited with our Creator and Father in heaven. We need to be led there, and the Good Shepherd should take that as his—and our—biggest duty toward each other.
This is indeed quite a tough job. To guide souls toward their ultimate destination is truly a very delicate job. It requires nothing less than entering into the inner life of a person with the intention of helping and of eventually leading that person to God. But how can this be?
Priests are supposed to be sacramentally configured to Christ as head of the Church and therefore as the ultimate guide of souls, the redeemer of mankind. They are supposed to have the very mind and sentiments of Christ. And if they are truly vitally identified with Christ, they will also share in the power of Christ.
But is this possible at all? If we have faith, the answer is yes. The sacrament of Holy Orders configures one to Christ with an effectivity that is called in Latin as “ex opere operato.”
It means that by the mere reception of the sacrament and as long as there is no formal impediment to such reception, that sacramental configuration is achieved, not so much by the qualities and dispositions of the recipient as by the power of Christ himself.
Would we think that the apostles had the qualities and dispositions of becoming the first bishops in the Church? If we are to go by our human standards, we would have serious doubts about that. But Christ made them our first bishops, and bishops they were.
The priestly ideal of being another Christ as head of the Church will certainly demand everything from them. But given that priests are men, with their own share of weaknesses, that ideal will be pursued in stages at best, with its own ups and downs, its twists and turns, its drama.
We, priests, should do our part of resembling more and more like Christ with our daily effort to be faithful to our identity and ministry. This can never be overemphasized. And everything should be done so that at least its approximation can be gained.
As guide of souls, we should learn how to deal with all kinds of souls with their respective consciences. Indeed, the priest should strive with God’s grace and his effort to be all things to all men, as St. Paul once said, in order to save all. This will require of him to forget himself and just try his best to have the very mind and heart of Christ whose love for us is universal and for always.
