16th Sunday 2021
Jeremiah 23:1-6; Ephesians 2:13-18; Mark 6:30-34
When I still had roots in the parish in which I grew up, I would sometimes, when I was home, celebrate Mass in the parish primary school, where I noticed that they used a book of selected readings and prayers for various occasions and “themes”. Once, I offered Mass for the end of the school year: for this the book in question provided a truncated version of today’s Gospel, ending with the words “You must come away to some lonely place and rest for a while”.
I couldn’t help feeling that this played fast and loose with the meaning of Scripture, changing the whole import of Our Lord’s words, or at least of the context in which they were set. The implication was that the children and staff should enjoy a relaxing holiday, an admirable aspiration, but the complete opposite of what occurred in the Gospel.
The whole point of today’s Gospel is that Jesus and the disciples were thwarted in their quest for relaxation, as the people followed them, and He responded to their needs. He was the Good Shepherd all the time, even when officially “off duty”, and the combination of this passage with Jeremiah’s denunciation of the neglectful shepherds, points the way for any of us who have pastoral responsibility of any sort.
Who falls into that category? I would suggest that it includes priests, religious, members of the caring professions, parents, grandparents, Old Uncle Tom Cobbley and all. How often do you read of an off duty police officer or paramedic intervening in an emergency? When is the mother or father of a child ever off duty? What parent has not arisen several times in the night to attend to the needs of their children? What son or daughter of an elderly parent has not done the same?
There is always a slight tinge of dismay when the priest is awakened in the night by the shrilling of the phone, because it will almost certainly lead to a journey to the hospital or to the bedside of a dying parishioner, but there will also be gratitude that people still consider it important to send for the priest. And no mother or father seriously begrudges having to leave their bed to attend to the needs of their child.
For those who no longer have those responsibilities, or for whom it does not form part of their vocation, there is still an unceasing concern for the Church, the world, and creation. You are not called to permanent anxiety, but if all that you do is given to God, then you too will be exercising that pastoral concern which is wide enough and generous enough to embrace the whole world.
Whether as a religious, or as a lay person in the world, you may not always be conscious of that smell of the sheep with which the Holy Father has called us to live, but if you are living authentically in your own sphere of life, then through God’s grace the sheep will be benefitting.
So, are we never to relax, never to make holiday, never to indulge in pleasant activities? Far from it, for without such things we shall become stale, and our concern for the world will be something which we resent, or which we offer grudgingly. If we are constantly giving, with no heed for our own needs, our well will run dry, and we shall have nothing to offer.
GK Chesterton’s friend and fellow writer Hilaire Belloc penned the following lines:
“Wherever the Catholic sun doth shine,
There’s always laughter and good red wine.
At least, I’ve always found it so.
Benedicamus Domino.”
But, while we are enjoying them, we must be prepared to put them aside, as Our Lord did, should the need arise.
