Fourth Sunday of Easter

1. Lectio

“I am the gate for the sheep…
Whoever enters through me will be saved,
and will come in and go out and find pasture.”

It is a most peculiar claim.

Christ does not merely show the way—
He is the way in its narrowest and most practical form:

a gate.

2. Meditatio

After some fifty-seven years at The Glenn, I have come to respect many things—weather, animals, time—but none so consistently humbling as a gate.

A gate is a small thing, really.
A hinge, a latch, a decision.

And yet, my entire day may depend upon it.

If I leave it open when it should be closed, chaos ensues.
If I close it when it should be open, confusion reigns.
If I assume the sheep understand my intentions without my guidance, I quickly discover that sheep are philosophers of a very limited school.

The sheep and the dogs have taught me something that no book ever quite managed:

A gate is not merely a boundary—
it is a relationship.

It is the point where trust is tested.

Will they follow me through it?
Will they remain when I ask them to remain?
Will I remember to use it rightly?

And then comes Christ, with divine audacity, and says:

“I am the gate.”

Which is either the most comforting or the most inconvenient statement ever made.

Because it removes my ability to improvise.

I cannot climb over.
I cannot cut around.
I cannot leave it ajar for later convenience.

I must enter through Him—or not at all.

And suddenly my life begins to look suspiciously like my pasture:

A series of gates, each requiring attention, intention, and obedience.

3. Oratio

4. Contemplatio (Chestertonian synthesis)

The modern man dislikes gates.

He prefers open fields, undefined paths, and limitless options—
which is to say, he prefers confusion with excellent marketing.

But a gate, properly understood, is not a restriction—it is a revelation.

It tells me that there is a way in
and a way out.

That not all directions are equal.
That not every path leads to pasture.

Chesterton would laugh at our horror of limits,
for he knew that the only thing worse than a narrow gate
is no gate at all.

For where there is no gate, there is no fold.
And where there is no fold, there is no belonging.

The sheep do not resent the gate—
they depend upon it.

And the shepherd does not apologize for it—
he stands within it.

And here is the great and glorious absurdity:

The Gate is also the Shepherd.

The entrance is the guide.
The boundary is the protector.
The way in is the one who leads out.

So that I am not merely entering a place—
I am entering a Person.

5. Actio — In Light of Laudato Si’ and Synodality

Things are made worse by the loss of tropical forests which would otherwise help to mitigate climate change.

Laudato si’ §24

Laudato si’ reminds me that true freedom is not found in limitless consumption, but in rightly ordered relationships—with God, others, and creation.

Action:

Today, I will identify one “gate” in my life—a decision, habit, or boundary—and consciously choose to pass through it with intention rather than assumption.

For Synodality is not wandering together—
it is entering together through the same gate.

6. Song Pairing 🎵

🎶 “Garden Gate” by James Gang🎵

7. Movie Pairing 🎬

🎬Movie: “Heaven’s Gate” (1980)

8. Poetic Verse

I left the gate half-closed one day,
and paid the price in kind—
for sheep will find the smallest breach
and follow where they’re blind.

Yet there He stood, both door and guide,
not distant, but in place—
a narrow way, a certain path,
an open door of grace.

So let me choose the truer way,
though smaller it may be—
for all who pass the guarded gate
are finally set free.