Mission and Shepherding in the Spirit of Christ
Homily on the occasion of the 25th Anniversary of my Religious Profession
Dear Brothers in Christ,
Today I stand before you with a grateful heart — grateful to the Lord who called me 25 years ago, and grateful to each of you who walk this same path of consecration and leadership. The readings we have just heard speak directly to our vocation as religious, and even more so to our particular call as superiors and responsible, as shepherds entrusted with mission.
In the first reading, St. Paul stands firm before King Agrippa and Festus. He is misunderstood, accused, and yet unwavering. Why? Because he is not defending himself — he is defending the mission of the Gospel. Paul’s life is no longer his own. He belongs to Christ, and for Christ he will go wherever the mission leads — even to Rome, even to death.
As superiors and responsible of the SMP, this is our identity: not to be administrators of comfort or keepers of routine, but men possessed by the mission, ready to speak, to act, to suffer, if necessary, for the sake of the Gospel.
The world may not understand us. Sometimes even our own communities may question us. But like Paul, we must remain rooted in conviction, courageous in witness, and clear that our role is to serve the truth — the Truth who is a person: Jesus Christ.
Then, in the Gospel, we witness something intimate and profound: the rehabilitation and commissioning of Peter. Three times, Jesus asks him, “Do you love me?” And each time, Peter responds — perhaps with a bit more pain, but also with more humility. And Jesus answers not with comfort but with mission:
Feed my lambs. Tend my sheep. Feed my sheep.
This is the heart of religious leadership. Not strategy. Not control. Not image. But love.
If we are to shepherd others, it must begin here: with a burning, tested, and humble love for Christ. Without that love, leadership becomes management. But with that love, even difficult decisions, fraternal corrections, and challenges become acts of service and fidelity.
So, Let us be shepherds with the heart of Jesus. Let us be ready, like Peter, to affirm our love for Christ each day, even after our failures. Let us be like Paul — brave, truthful, unwavering in mission. And let our communities see in us not just authority, but authenticity. Not just structure, but spirit. Not just administration, but adoration.
There is also a painful beauty in this moment: Jesus is reminding Peter — and us — that shepherding will involve laying down our lives. “When you were younger, you went where you wanted… but when you grow old, another will fasten a belt around you and take you where you do not want to go.”
Brothers, this is leadership in religious life. It is not about doing what we prefer, but going where the Spirit leads, often through sacrifice, contradiction, and deep trust in the Lord.
let me share in summary my Missionary Journey
When I was a deacon, I volunteered to go to Papua New Guinea and began preparing for the mission there. But just a few months before my departure, I was instead assigned to Vietnam—a mission I honestly did not like at first. After a few years in Vietnam, when I finally told Bishop Herman that I wanted to stay longer, I was deported by the government.
I was then assigned to Bataan at the request of Fr. Julius. I began to love the simple life and parish work there and wished to stay longer, but after one year, I was transferred to Cebu. After my term in Cebu, Fr. Orville told me to return to Vietnam. I was very happy because I truly wanted to go back. However, as I was preparing to return to Vietnam, Fr. Orville came and asked me to be assigned to Indonesia. I simply said yes without much thought. Indonesia had never been part of my missionary dreams.
Now, after two and a half years in Indonesia—just when I have begun to truly love the mission there—I am being sent again to a new assignment.
Missionary life is full of surprises, detours, and silent “obediences”. Often, the places we never dreamed of going become the very places where God’s grace transforms us. I have learned that it’s not about where I serve, but how I love and surrender in each assignment. Each mission, even the unwanted ones, becomes a holy ground when embraced with faith.
Furthermore, After 25 years, I have come to realize that mission and shepherding are not two separate realities. They are two sides of the same coin. The mission pushes us outward — to serve, to evangelize, to build. Shepherding draws us inward — to care, to guide, to form. And both require one thing: a heart totally given to Christ.
To be a superior is to have a heart of Jesus, and to have a heart of Jesus is not to rise above others, but to kneel beside them. To be sent, yes — but also to remain close. To teach, yes — but also to listen and remain humble. To correct, yes — but always with mercy and to remain open for correction.
In a world of quick solutions and superficial leadership, we are called to be icons of the Good Shepherd, who knows His sheep by name, who carries the wounded, who walks ahead into the unknown.
As I mark 25 years of this journey, I do so with the awareness that I am still learning to love Him well. I still need to hear, every day: “Do you love me?” And I still desire to answer, every day: “Lord, you know everything. You know that I love you.”
And He still says to me — and to you:
“Feed my sheep. Follow me.”
So let us recommit ourselves, brothers. To the mission — with the boldness of Paul. To shepherding — with the heart of Peter. To Christ — with the totality of our lives. And to the Rogate – with the zeal of St. Hannibal who taught is to pray, to love, to labor for vocations with tireless devotion.
May the next years of our consecration be even more fruitful, more surrendered, and more filled with the joy of serving as shepherds for His flock and soldiers for His mission.
As I conclude this homily, let us contemplate the luminous example of our founder, St. Hannibal Mary Di Francia—a true apostle of the Rogate and a shepherd after the Heart of Christ. St. Hannibal grasped, with extraordinary clarity, the Lord’s urgent plea for laborers in the harvest. He understood that these laborers must be more than mere workers; they should be shaped by prayer, inspired by limitless charity, and guided by a true pastoral spirit.
His entire life was a living response to Christ’s question: “Do you love me?”—a response not confined to words or intentions, but made manifest in ceaseless service to the poor, in nurturing and forming new vocations, and in founding communities destined to spread the Rogate spirit to every corner of the world. St. Hannibal’s “yes” was daily, concrete, and total.
As superiors and leaders, may we allow ourselves to be set aflame by his witness. Let us pray with the same urgency that marked his days, recognizing that prayer is the wellspring of all true apostolic action.
Let us lead with the tenderness and strength of true spiritual fathers, attentive to the needs of each soul entrusted to our care. And let us form our communities into living fields of mission—places where Christ is encountered, loved, and followed with fidelity and joy until the very end.
In the spirit of St. Hannibal, may our leadership be marked by a deep interior life, a heart open to the needs of the world, and a steadfast commitment to forming disciples who will, in turn, become laborers for the Lord’s abundant harvest.
Amen.
Fr. Alfonso Heredia, RCJ is a missionary to Indonesia.