Sheep Trick

There is new rain in my life - songs and other revelations are flowing where few have appeared for several years.  In the midst of this rainfall, I keep hearing words about shepherds.  I think there must be a chapter or two in A Wild God (in the process of writing) about sheep and shepherds in the Wilds.

Here's a little bit of the downpour I drove through this morning on the way to work:

Domestic sheep, by and large, are the incarnation of boring.  They just aren't terribly interesting.  And that is very difficult for some shepherds to deal with.  It isn't enough that sheep eat grass, drink water, and then produce manure.  That they make funny noises and enjoy foolish activities like grazing and lying down in the grass.  No, we often think that sheep should line up, foreleg in foreleg, and high-kick like the Flockettes.  We want "our" sheep to march in intricate patterns, ride unicycles, juggle flaming knives, and bleat Celine Dion classics.

In short, many shepherds don't want happy sheep, or healthy sheep, or even normal sheep.  They want trick sheep.  And, to be fair, after investing four-or-more years in college (Bible or otherwise), at least another two years in seminary, and finally overcoming the rigorous inquisition of ordination proceedings, it just seems anticlimactic to walk around in the countryside, far from civilization, with no companions but a bunch of wooly critters.  And for those shepherds who have not walked the education/ordination path to pastordom, the example set before them in our church culture is still one of convincing "disobedient" sheep to perform on command.

But some shepherds catch a peculiar sound on the wind, an unexpected glimpse in the night sky, a certain taste in the water.  And, in whatever metaphoric fashion suits the way God has made them, they pick up a lyre and make music that opens for them the veil of protection.  They step - regularly, if only briefly - into the transcendent beauty of His Holiness.  And they write down songs about what they see there.

And then - and only then - they let the flock rest securely in green pastures.  They lead the sheep to still waters where they may drink deeply in safety.  They give the sheep places of honor, and guide them into sight of the Lord's house, the place behind the veil.  In other words, having seen the Great Shepherd, they mimic the ways he cares for all of his sheep.

And then the wise shepherds get out of the way, because, as much as God's sheep like resting in green pastures, they will do their level best to run over anyone who blocks their way when they can see God's dwelling place - their heartfelt home - ahead.

Pastoring is not about getting the sheep to do things - especially not circus tricks.  It's about keeping the sheep safe and healthy so that they can go about the business of being sheep.  Sheep don't need to be taught how to be sheep-ly;  they come by that naturally.  Their Heavenly Creator has put that in them twice-over - it's in their genes, and in the new life he recreates in them with their rebirth into his great flock.  It's only when we get tired of plain-old sheep, and start wishing for stunt-sheep, that we start teaching them new behaviors.