All too often in our sermons, our conversations, and our lives, we consider what other people should do better and forget to critique ourselves. Today in Sunday School however due to a happenstance pastoral memory from an older woman, we all had the opportunity to ask ourselves if we are being good sheep. You see, we think usually in terms of being shepherds, tending to others in the stead of the master, but even if you are a shepherd, to Him you are a sheep, ALWAYS. The onus therefore falls on us to be good sheep and thereby assist the Good Shepherd in bringing God's children safely in from the fields.
The woman mentioned told a story about a sheep her great grandfather tended who pushed other sheep off of a bridge. Nobody seems to know why this sheep did this, but it necessitated one additional shepherd being there to rescue sheep from the brook below and return them to the herd as his sole purpose. At this point, I pointed out how the rest of the sheep never seemed bothered that their brother returned or that one among their number mistreated them periodically in the same way and in the same place. They had learned to be good sheep for the shepherd and not create any more work after the one miscreant hurt others.
Although part of the lesson, the instructor omitted mention of Ezekiel 18 until I brought it up in context of the onery sheep and the others. You see, we like to think of ourselves whenever possible as good sheep. We're out there trying to save others when we haven't even bothered to check ourselves. We are critical of sheep who kick others off bridges, mock those that fall in the water, and sometimes refuse to let them back into the fold. Yet, if those things ever apply to us we hypocritically demand "christ-like" treatment and readmission without reprobation. We do not allow the atonement to affect the lives of other sheep. When the onery one rehabilitates himself, we still recall how he bullied us. When those who fall as a consequence of his detours, we don't like to let them back in with full fellowship. Ezekiel talks about how the Good Shepherd has no joy in losing ANY sheep. That's why there was an atonement, so that every sheep that desires to be part of His herd may come, may stay, and if they stray they may count on Him to offer them a chance to return to full fellowship.
In order to be good shepherds or good sheep, we have to learn to see others as God sees them. I love F. Enzio Busche's admonition: "When you cannot love another person, look into that person's eyes long enough to see the hidden rudiments of a child of God." That's what we are. We are all God's children. I know that sometimes it's hard to love people who hurt us, and God knows that I pray betimes for people who wronged me, not because I love them, but because I know HE DOES. They are precious to Him, and I think if they understood who I was and what they did, they would probably be ashamed.
We are not really as much a part of a flock as we are individuals. People in civics or government or religion will attempt to lump us together as "the masses" or "Anglo-Saxons" or "divorced person" because then we're easier to balkanize. It's easier to kill a sheep once you cull it off from the herd than it is to jump the thorny barricade and deal with a shepherd willing to die for his sheep. They do not want us to realize our individual worth. YOu see, good shepherds, like good professors, (of which I humble attest I am) know the names of those over whom they have stewardship. They know things about them and remember them. In my old congregation, people referred to each other as Betty and Joseph and Christal and Rick and to me as "Brother Funny", which ostracized me. In my new congregation, people actually took time to learn my name and USE IT. People do not care about what you know or what you can do unless they know that you care, and you cannot effectively and honestly care about people that you do not know. Prayers about random strangers are vacuous if you loathe your own family members.
Being good sheep for the shepherd begins early, with attitudes and actions nurtured from a young age. Over a decade ago, when I bred beagles with my ex wife, she constantly bewailed the fact that the young puppies loved me more than they loved her. Well, I was the one who spent time with them, played with them, held them, let them lick my face and chew my ears and crawl on my back. I was the one who fed them. They associated me with good things. They came to me because they knew my voice and knew that I knew them by name. Yes, I named every puppy in every litter. The one I brought with me to Vegas was one I knew all his life. One morning, I was out watering them before work when I heard a whine. I rescued him from a precarious and immobile position between the fence and the wall, and he knew that I cared about him. He licked me and refused to move, and later on, he would put his life on the line to protect me because I once cared for him.
Christ's work and the work of Christians everywhere is the work of spiritual salvation. Sometimes people of other faiths or no faith at all mock us for not attending to the temporary and material needs of others. Ezekiel reminds us that God's work is the work of the soul. Yes, He cares about whether we live today and how well we live and how we live, but His work goes beyond this brief span of mortality. Out, out brief candle. Life is but a walking shadow, a poor player who struts and frets his hour upon stage and then moves to another plane of existence in God's presence. In order to achieve that, people must repent and turn to Christ in order to live. It's not about bread; it's about the Bread of Life. It's not about water; it's about Living Water. It's not about accolades; it's about divine approbation. God is eager to forgive, and when we turn to the Good Shepherd and follow Him, He leads us to green and distant shores over that fair horizon. God's work for His shepherds is to call men to repentance and turn them to Christ, the only way by which any man may be saved from wolves and men who stand to scatter the flock of souls. It means that we continue to fellowship the onery sheep even if he kicks us off the bridge. It means that we welcome back those who leave, whatever the reason, and allow the atonement to work for them. If "he who repenteth is forgiven and I the Lord remember them no more" is good enough for God, how can good sheep do any less?
While God sometimes calls us to be shepherds over parts of His flock, He always needs us to be good sheep. My old religious Seminary instructor used to send us to High School with the admonition "be the good kids!" In that way, by our example, we preach the gospel by the way we live our lives and inspire others to follow us as we follow Him. They trust us until they can learn to trust Him. We become a microcosm of a larger herd, sheep who are also shepherds, influencing those sheep immediately around us. We lift where we stand. We lead where we stand. We touch lives where we stand. It may not seem like much, but because those sheep matter to Him too, it IS important work. No matter how small our sphere of influence, the better sheep we are, the better shepherds we can be in the service of the Master Shepherd.
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