April 25, Easter 4B (John 10:11-18)
When I was newly pregnant with my daughter, I thought of myself as the hired hand, her temporary guardian.
I learned about the Catechesis of the Good Shepherd from a woman in a magazine who said she knew four-year-olds who had a deeper prayer life than she did. I didn’t have kids at the time, but as one who, despite my best efforts, has been unable to recapture the spiritual confidence of my early childhood, that line caught my attention. The program, or “experience,” is rooted in the parable of the Good Shepherd, in part because the idea of Jesus as the protective shepherd who knows his sheep and will never leave them is easily grasped and appeals to young children. Or something like that. I didn’t save the article, but I never forgot about CGS.
Later, newly pregnant and on retreat at the Abbey of Gethsemani in Kentucky (best efforts, remember?), I found a copy of The Religious Potential of the Child by Sofia Cavalletti, which describes her experience developing CGS. In my weekend monk’s cell, where I was supposed to be praying, I instead dreamed of taking my unborn child to a CGS “atrium,” a “dwelling place” designed to meet the spiritual needs of children. I made notes in my journal about the child in my womb and her spiritual potential.
I wonder now why the idea so excited me. More than creating a savant saint, I think I wanted to protect my daughter. This is why the Good Shepherd appealed to me: unlike the hired hand, he stands guard at the gate. He will not allow his sheep to be snatched or scattered. I thought of myself as the hired hand, her temporary guardian. My mother had died young and I expected to do the same, leaving my children as defenseless as I’d felt. I also worried that I didn’t have the fortitude to parent. I wanted a backup plan.
