Fourth Sunday of Easter (Year A) – Sandy Bay and New Town 2026

Welcome to everyone who has joined us in prayer today.

What do you think is the most famous prayer in the world?
Perhaps the Lord’s Prayer.

And yet, even more widely known—recited, sung, and cherished across generations—is Psalm 23: “The Lord is my shepherd…” It is prayed by Jews and Christians, known even beyond the Church, and heard in moments of national grief, at ANZAC commemorations, and at funerals at which hearts search for consolation. Psalm 23 endures because it speaks to something deep within us: the longing to be guided, protected, and held—especially in the darkest valleys of life.

This psalm captures the quiet but powerful assurance of God’s care. It tells us that we are not alone, not abandoned, not left to wander without purpose. And Jesus takes this ancient image and makes it personal. He does not simply speak about a shepherd—He is the Good Shepherd.

His voice can be trusted. His guidance is sure. His presence is our safety.

Saint Peter, in today’s second reading, reminds us of the truth of our condition: “You had gone astray like sheep, but now you have come back to the shepherd and guardian of your souls.” He writes to people who knew hardship, confusion, and suffering. And in doing so, he speaks to every human heart that has ever felt lost or unsure.

In the Gospel, Jesus deepens the image: “I am the gate for the sheep.”

In the time of Jesus, sheep from different flocks were gathered into a single enclosure with one narrow entrance. The shepherd would stand—or even lie down—in that gateway. Nothing could enter or leave without passing through him. It is a powerful image: the shepherd is not only guide and companion, but protector and guardian.

Many of us have lived something like this, even without realising it.

Think of the family home. Why are parents’ bedrooms often placed near the front door? Not by accident. It is so that no one can enter without passing them first. Parents sleep lightly, attentive even in the night. They are, in their own way, both shepherds and gatekeepers.

And the children—especially as teenagers—know it! Trying to slip past quietly late at night…

This image brings us to an important truth: the Good Shepherd is not only gentle and comforting—He is also watchful and demanding. He protects, but He also calls us to account.

And this, too, is love.

In families, as in faith, love is not only about saying ‘yes’. It is also about saying ‘no’. Children rejoice in freedom but grow through guidance. The same compassion that consoles also corrects. The same love that comforts also challenges.

Jesus does both. Page after page in the Gospels, He heals and forgives—but He also calls, demands, and transforms.

He is truly the Good Shepherd.

Today, Good Shepherd Sunday, the Church invites us to reflect in a particular way on vocations—especially the vocation to the priesthood.

If Christ is the Good Shepherd, then priests are called to share in His shepherding: to stand at the gate, to know the flock, to protect, to guide, to nourish with the Word and the Sacraments.

But this does not happen by accident.

It requires a call—and a response.

This is not simply the concern of bishops or seminaries—it belongs to all of us.

A vocation to the priesthood is born in the heart, and it is nurtured in the community.

It grows where faith is lived, where prayer is real, where young people are encouraged to listen for God’s voice and to respond generously.

Here in the Archdiocese of Hobart, this is not an abstract issue. We are very blessed with priests who have come from other countries to serve us with generosity and love. We honour them. We thank them. They are a gift to us.

But we must also ask:
Where are the young men from our own communities who will step forward?
Who will hear the voice of the Shepherd and say, “Here I am”?

If we do not actively promote and support vocations, we risk a future where communities are deprived of the Eucharist, of reconciliation, of pastoral care.

And so today, I ask three things:

First, pray. Pray that the Lord of the harvest will send labourers into His harvest. Pray by name for young men you know.

Second, encourage. If you see goodness, generosity, faith in a young man—say something. A simple word can awaken a possibility that has never been considered.

Third, create a culture of vocation. In our families, our schools, our parishes—let it be normal to speak about priesthood as a noble, joyful, and life-giving path.

The Good Shepherd is still calling. The question is: are we helping others to hear His voice?

As we gather around the altar today, we are not just sheep in need of care—we are a people entrusted with a mission to help others find their way to the Shepherd who knows them, calls them, and loves them.

And may we raise up, from among us, those who will shepherd His people in the years to come.

Most Rev. Anthony J. Ireland
Archbishop of Hobart
25/26 April 2026