“Remain in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and remain in his love.”
2. Meditatio
Perhaps the greatest attribute I look for in the Livestock Guardian Dogs I raise is that they remain where I put them. This is especially true of the dogs I use in a virtual pasture system. There is no physical fence to keep them in place. They wear virtual collars, but sometimes temptations outside the boundaries I have set for them lure these independent-thinking working dogs elsewhere.
And when they do not remain, I must go after them.
The whole business becomes strangely theological.
For when I retrieve them, I must be careful with my anger. If I approach them only with punishment and frustration, they may return physically while inwardly becoming restless and fearful. I have to guide them back in such a way that they freely decide it is better to remain where they belong. The shepherd cannot merely force loyalty; he must cultivate it.
So much of my spiritual life resembles one of those wandering dogs.
God places me in good pasture: prayer, Mass, family, work, ordinary duties, the quiet rhythms of The Glenn. Yet some distant noise beyond the invisible boundary suddenly fascinates me. My imagination wanders first, then my attention, then my heart. Soon I find myself spiritually roaming through anxieties, distractions, ambitions, resentments, or comforts that promise freedom but lead only to exhaustion.
And still the Good Shepherd comes after me.
Not always with thunder. More often with patient persistence.
There is something deeply moving in realizing that Christ does not merely command me to remain; He Himself remains with me even while I am trying to wander away. His fidelity is greater than my consistency.
And perhaps complete joy is not found in finally escaping all fences, but in discovering that the boundaries of God’s love are actually the borders of abundant pasture.
3. Oratio
Lord Jesus Christ, Good Shepherd and eternal Vine, teach my restless heart to remain.
When distractions pull at me like distant coyotes in the night, let me hear Your voice above them. When pride tells me I know better pasture than You do, humble me gently. When I wander beyond the invisible boundaries of grace, come after me with mercy stronger than my foolishness.
Teach me that Your commandments are not chains but fences around green pasture.
Let me remain in prayer when prayer feels dry. Let me remain in charity when others are difficult. Let me remain in fidelity when novelty beckons elsewhere. Let me remain in Your Church even when the world calls it outdated.
And when at last my earthly wandering ends, let me remain forever in the house of the Father.
G. K. Chesterton would probably say that modern people suffer from a romantic addiction to leaving. We praise escape, reinvention, disruption, and perpetual movement. We imagine every fence is oppression and every rooted thing is boring.
The stars remain in their courses. The seasons remain faithful to their rhythm. The Eucharist remains upon the altar. Even the old trees at The Glenn remain standing through drought and wind by stubbornly sinking deeper roots.
The devil’s oldest temptation is restlessness.
“Surely there is something better elsewhere.”
But Christ answers with the shocking simplicity of permanence:
This is why the Christian life often appears so ordinary from the outside. Remaining looks unimpressive. There are no fireworks in fidelity. Marriage remains. Prayer remains. Farmers remain. Monks remain. Shepherds remain with sheep who do not appreciate them nearly enough.
And yet civilization itself depends upon people willing to remain.
The strange thing is that remaining requires more courage than wandering. Anybody can drift downstream. It takes conviction to anchor oneself in truth, in vows, in community, and ultimately in Christ.
Perhaps Heaven itself is simply the final and everlasting remaining.
5. Actio — In Light of Laudato Si’ and Synodality
In this sense, it is essential to show special care for indigenous communities and their cultural traditions. They are not merely one minority among others, but should be the principal dialogue partners, especially when large projects affecting their land are proposed. For them, land is not a commodity but rather a gift from God and from their ancestors who rest there, a sacred space with which they need to interact if they are to maintain their identity and values. When they remain on their land, they themselves care for it best. Nevertheless, in various parts of the world, pressure is being put on them to abandon their homelands to make room for agricultural or mining projects which are undertaken without regard for the degradation of nature and culture.
We long for true peace — peace that is disarmed and disarming — built upon the conditions that make possible genuine integral human development and the authentic common good of the human family within our common home. As the Apostolic Exhortation Amoris Laetitia reminds us, “the welfare of the family is decisive for the future of the world and that of the Church” (n. 31). We are therefore pleased to present this joint work of our two Dicasteries, enriched by external contributions — including those of many married couples — which offers practical insights into how the teachings of Laudato Si’ can be integrated into Christian family life.
In Laudato Si’, Pope Francis reminds us that creation flourishes through relationship and stability rather than domination and exploitation. To care for creation is, in many ways, to remain faithfully within our proper place in God’s order instead of endlessly consuming and abandoning.
Action:
Today I will practice remaining intentionally. I will remain attentive during prayer instead of rushing. I will remain patient with someone difficult instead of emotionally fleeing. I will remain grateful for the ordinary pasture God has already given me instead of constantly imagining greener fields elsewhere.
Synodality is not wandering aimlessly together. It is remaining together in Christ while listening for the Shepherd’s voice.
Saleka (born Saleka Shyamalan, August 1, 1996) is an American R&B and neo-soul singer-songwriter from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Known for her smooth, jazz-inflected vocals and introspective lyrics, she has been recognized as one of the most promising new voices in contemporary R&B.
A haunting reminder that love is proven less by intensity than by endurance. The deepest words in Christianity may not be “I arrived,” but simply
They Remain is a 2018 American psychological thriller and horror film written and directed by Philip Gelatt, based on Laird Barron’s short story “–30–.” It stars William Jackson Harper and Rebecca Henderson as two scientists investigating strange phenomena at the site of a former murderous cult. The film is noted for its atmospheric tension and ambiguous, cosmic-horror tone.
A film where isolation and memory linger like ghosts, reminding me that whatever I allow to remain within my heart will eventually shape the whole landscape of my soul.
8. Poetic Verse
The dogs wander because they believe freedom lies somewhere beyond the hill.
So do I.
Yet every evening the Shepherd walks the pasture calling us home again.
Lord, teach my restless soul that joy is not found in escaping Your boundaries, but in remaining within Your love.
