It was my mother’s birthday. I was in Rome and thinking how I would mark her birthday. As I listened to the BBC that morning, I heard of a new catacomb opened in Rome called the “Catacombs of Priscilla.” The newscaster had a number of women who were arguing for women’s ordination and pointing at a fresco on the ceiling in one of the vaults of the catacomb that showed what appeared like a woman wearing priestly robes. She had her two hands extended as if she was celebrating Mass. “There you have it,” said one of the women with a British ascent; “There were women priests in the early Church,” she concluded. Because my mother’s name is Priscilla, and since I was trying to do something on her birthday, I pulled the map to find how to get there. I was glad that I made it to the Catacombs of St. Priscilla, located north of Rome. The generally held view was that the fresco in question depicted rather figures of an ancient Roman funeral banquet, not Mass. But it wasn’t the painting of the woman apparently celebrating Mass that caught my eyes. There was a fresco of mother and child that may have been the earliest of the Infant Jesus and Mary. The fresco that stood out was that of Jesus as the Good Shepherd standing in front of a garden. He was carrying a lamb on his shoulder and motioning to two sheep to enter (or he could be feeding them), while on top of two small trees on either side of the garden’s entrance were two crowing roosters.
A number of Christian symbolisms are depicted in this fresco. The two trees symbolize the garden of paradise from which our first parents were banished. Christ’s resurrection opened again the doors of paradise shut against Adam and Eve; and in place of the expelling cherubs posted in front of the garden to prevent man from reentering (Gen 3:24a), Christ stands as the gatekeeper, lovingly inviting back the lost sheep, Adam and Eve (and redeemed humanity) to the sheepfold. Again, in place of the flame of flashing sword (Gen: 24b), the cross stands as the tree of the new life of resurrection. In the same fresco, Christ even carries a wounded lamb on his shoulder to show his care for us when we’re wounded by sin. The rooster is a sacred symbol, which in the Jewish tradition is emblematic of gallantry and honesty; but more so, temple officers were called “Rooster” as one of their titles, to show their roles as the ones who welcomed people into the temple or expelled them. Christ, too, is the “Rooster” or, as he calls himself today, the gatekeeper of the heavenly temple who calls his sheep to heaven. In other ancient traditions, the rooster symbolizes the victory of light over darkness. The Celts saw the Rooster as a messenger to the underworld calling forth the souls of the brave who died in battle. For the Igbo's, the crowing of the rooster each morning wakes humanity from sleep—a resurrection motif of calling humanity back from the death of sin to a new life. And among the Native Americans, the rooster is a symbol of the resurrection.
We can see that the Shepherd theme pervades every aspect of our religion. One of the most prayed psalms in the Bible is Psalm 23, with the Shepherd theme. Christ, the Good Shepherd provides us through the Church shepherds (pastors) who lead us to the fresh waters (Baptism) to refresh our souls. They guide us in the right path of sound doctrine for his name’s sake; so that, even if we walk in the dark valley of false teachings, we’ll not fear; for their prayers and guidance give us courage. They feed us with rich food (the Eucharist) for our journey and anoint us with salvation (Reconciliation) for years to come.
Can we sincerely tell him today that with him as our shepherd, we shall want for nothing? Not even a walk through the darkness of error can make us fear any evil, because we know that we’ll find repose in his verdant truth.
Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo