Il Gruppo Laico Interdiocesano del Sabato Sera (GLISS)

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To Jesus the Good Shepherd

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To Jesus the Good Shepherd



“Voice” of a baby without voice “condemned to be unborn and die without receiving baptism”.


Where do you go to pasture, Good Shepherd?  Where do you go, bringing the whole flock on your shoulders?  The one sheep that you keep on your shoulders symbolizes the human nature as a whole.

You took it on you, when you were conceived in your mother’s  virginal womb and you became “flesh”, as all of us.  Since then, my human nature belongs to you as well, and, in a certain way, it’s tied to you and to your pasture.  The beginning of your human life is similar to the beginning of my life, because while you were in your mother’s womb, you were about to be “dismissed” with your mother.  But an angel’s intervention prevented this from happening.  Good Sheppard, will there be an angel for me too?  Please, Jesus, show me too the place of your rest.  Bring me too where grazing is good and nourishing.  Call me by name too; so that I, your little sheep, may hear your voice and, following your “voice”, may arrive in the kingdom of life too.  Please, let your face shine on me.  My mother is sad.  And in her womb, I am “just a thing” without a name.  Please, Jesus, let me have a name too, just as you had one.  You, the Word that became flesh, still unborn in the Virgin Mary’s womb, were given Jesus as a name; as told by the angel to both your parents: ”You are to give him the name Jesus”.  Jesus, my Sheppard, let me have a name too, just as you had one.  Eternal Word and Creator, You, Jesus, came on hearth for everybody.  You came for me too, since your own name, Jesus, testify your redeeming goodness toward everybody.  Including me, whom would not exist if, you hadn’t thought about and created in my mother’s womb with your love.  If I am here, Jesus, it’s because you have thought and still think of me, a small child. Nailed to the cross, you entrusted me too  to Mary’s maternal solicitude to be her son; and now I live but I am discarded as a “worthless thing” by my own parents, who conceived me.  Now, in virtue of their decision and “by law”, I am condemned, without a name and without baptism, to be unborn and to never have a life.  Jesus, my King and my Sheppard, I have you only, please you take care of me! 

How many voices to demand water for Eluana Englaro!  And it is right!  For me without voice, will there be any righteous person who will speak on my defense?  From your side, open to all and for all, blood and water spurted: is some of that blood and some of that water for me too? 

Let me know where you dwell, my Sheppard, and how I, an “evicted”, can come to you and fill up on your celestial nourishment to be part of the flock on your pasture.  “If anyone eats and drinks”- You said! -“he will live forever”.  Please, since I will never receive maternal milk, give me your water which brings eternal life to the ones who drink it.  Why, Jesus, can’t or shouldn’t there be any water for me?  Or for the ones that are like me among the endless number of children that will never be born?  Is there no room left in your pasture?  Didn’t you “reserve” a place in heaven for all, for me and for the other children like me?  In your pasture, finally, I could rest peacefully surrounded by your light without shadows.  Indeed there is no shadow at noon when you, who is our sun, shine above me and above all the children like me.  Jesus, dead and risen from the dead, you are our only hope.  Jesus, good Sheppard, you are the only one left who can help us.  Make us your children among all the other children in your Church and in your Father’s dwelling.  Without your water and without Church, how could I deserve resting in your dwelling?  And how could I communicate with you and with the ones that are with you?  Sing and be joyful with them and like them, saying “Abba’, Father”?

Tell me, then, my Sheppard, were I can find your joyful pasture. And show me the way.  Do not allow me to drift away from you.  I have been left out from this world already, rejected by everybody despite being so small, so please do not turn me away.   

Jesus, do not permit that I be banished from your kingdom which is your church!  Help me while I am in my mother’s womb!  Just as you once, while in your mother’s womb and with your mother, “festinanter” (latin-promptly) brought your help to John, that baptized you.  You were at your first month in your mother’s womb while he was at his sixth month in his mother’s womb, the elderly Elizabeth:  at the sound of your mother’s voice, your joy, Jesus, filled Elizabeth’s house and John’s heart.  So Elizabeth, “filled with the Holy Spirit, called out with a loud voice and said: As soon as the voice of your greeting came into my ears, the baby leaped in my womb for joy”.  Jesus, Good Sheppard, how can I leap in my mother’s womb?  At that time, you helped little John through your mother Mary, Church’s “first fruit” and Church’s “voice”, so now please come to help me through the visit and the maternal “voice” of your Church.  Jesus, you that love the little ones, do not reject me as others did.  Nailed to the cross to draw everybody to You, please take me too with you.  Do not allow, Jesus, that I, ignorant of the truth, end up in stranger flocks that don’t hear and don’t follow the friendly voice of your Church.  Take me in your joyful kingdom and let me experience “endless happiness”.   An endless feast.  Jesus, Good Sheppard, do not push me away from you.  Please grant me your baptismal water.  And before I die, take me too with you, Jesus. Because in the Church and with the Church, Jesus, my Good Sheppard and my King, you are all that matter.   




-       This prayer is the result of the conference “Voice for who doesn’t have voice”  held by the “Saturday Night Interdiocesan Group” on 22 November 2008 in Madonna dell’Arco, Naples.  The prayer is based on the Song of Songs by San Gregory of Nissa (Chapter 2, Pg. 44, 80; Liturgy of the hours according to the Roman Rite, IV vol. pp. 496-98, 2nd reading of Thursday of XXXIII week of ordinary Time.    


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