Hello, Friends!

       On Sunday we heard from Jesus that he identified his love for God’s people with the care a good shepherd gives his sheep.   It wasn’t until my family spent some years in the brush country of south Texas that I came to any pragmatic understanding at all of what sheep herding might entail.

      A colleague in the ministry said she learned a lot by observing the work habits and lifestyle of one of her members, a sheep rancher named Tom.   Although she rarely saw Tom in church, she admired him greatly, and even says she learned from him some invaluable lessons about faithful living, and good shepherding.

       Tom and his sidekick Shep, a border collie, didn’t go much of anywhere except where Tom’s three hundred-plus sheep ranged.  Day in and day out, rain or shine, heat or cold, Tom and Shep minded their sheep, attentive to every one in the herd, aware of where they needed to guide them next, for food, or shelter, or safety from harm.

      Laura says Tom and Shep seemed to understand an essential principle of leadership, that applies to people, too—creatures respond better to being guided from behind and among, than to being led from in front.   Tom knew what would happen if he paraded out in front of his herd and hollered, “Come this way, Sheep!   This is the way you’re supposed to go!  Follow me!  I’ll show you!”         His charges might look at him, for a moment, before going back to eating—but they wouldn’t budge.  

      Instead, he and Shep had to scope out the whole territory, make the perimeter and take stock of the best direction, and then getting in with and behind the herd, nudge and urge and encourage them onward—taking care not to frighten them into a stampede, but not relenting in all the collecting and herding techniques a shepherd and his dog instinctively know, until everyone got to where they needed to be.

        Tom didn’t much like it when a friend of his would tease him by saying that God made sheep so that chickens could look smart—he never laughed at the joke.  Sure, he knew sheep weren’t the cleverest or most independently minded of creatures—but if you could get him to talk, he would point out their survival instincts, their individual personality traits, and the advantages of their herd mentality.   Sheep knew they needed each other, Tom said, and people might be better off if they would remember that, too.

      Jesus said, “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them—and they follow me.”    I think we might consider how Tom and Shep can help us remember how we’re loved, guided, nudged, and encouraged by the wisdom of Christ, every day of our lives.  

       We can’t see Jesus, certainly, and we can’t always even distinguish the voice of holy wisdom from the other self-centered voices that clamor for our attention.   But if we get still enough, if we open in humble receptivity, sometimes if we just take a breath and pause for a moment, the Holy can emerge into consciousness, and make all the difference in the world in how we see things, how we perceive others, and how we choose to proceed with our lives.

         The living Christ is always with us, attentive, loving, wise, and able to guide our thoughts, words, and actions.   The spirit of God pervades all facets of creation, and the more we attune to Wisdom, the more well-being can be cultivated, for more and more of God’s creatures.

        Each and all of us are known by name, and loved.   Letting ourselves be led, nourished, guided to our own shepherding tasks with trust and peace of mind—that may be the toughest of all our tender charges, from the Love that will not let us go.

         I look forward to being led with you next Sunday, and all our days to come.

Shalom,                

Sarah