Good Shepherd, Good Sheep
Do we believe Jesus is the good shepherd?
Do we somehow think that Jesus is going to, as the saying goes, “fleece us?” Sometimes we act like Jesus is our enemy. We act like he is trying to trick us or take something from us. He isn’t.
Sometimes, we are like Bilbo Baggins, at the beginning of the Lord of the Rings. He has this burden he carries, this… addiction… that he cannot release. Gandalf, an “angel” of that world, who appears as a wizard, offers to help, and Bilbo responds as if Gandalf were trying to rob him. “You want it for yourself…”
“Bilbo Baggins!” Gandalf replies, “do not take me for some conjurer of cheap tricks. I am not trying to rob you. I’m trying to help you. All your long years we’ve been friends. Trust me as you once did….”
God’s moral laws as received through the scriptures and the Church are not random rules made up just to ruin our day. God is not trying to trick us. His commandments are less prescriptive than descriptive. They are less commands imposed on us or prescribed like medicine than descriptions of how he proposes we can live happy, healthy, holy lives.
Jesus wants to lead us to green pastures, and to where the water is clear and cool. Jesus wants to give us rest, and protect us. So he calls us to him.
How do we respond when Jesus calls us?
As I considered my response to our good shepherd, I wondered… are we good sheep?
My oldest and my youngest children both raised sheep when they were young. Sheep are stupid. Sheep are very, very stupid. In some ways, it is not a very nice compliment to us that Jesus calls us sheep. We have goats out on our little farm. Our goats are delightful. Much more intelligent and friendly, easier to care for, and basically better in every way than sheep.
Did you know that the passover lamb could be either a sheep or a goat? The Hebrew people used the word “seh” to refer to both sheep and goats, and only a reasonably informed shepherd could tell sheep from goats – this is why it is a sign of God’s wisdom that they are separated in final judgment.
There are some things I’ve noticed about our little flock that can apply to us, as the flock of the Good Shepherd:
- Their God is their belly. They’ll do anything for food. They’re always hungry, and they’ll climb over each other in their eagerness to eat.
- Our God comes to us as food. Are we eager to receive him?
- Or, are our appetites for other, less holy things?
- The flock is very trainable. They are stubborn, and fight change, but once they’ve done it two or three times, it’s their new habit. The first few times we tried to get Mini on the milking stand, it was a wrestling match that ended with muddy clothes and no milk. But, it wasn’t long, and now we just open the gate, and she walks out on her own, hops up on the stand, and looks for her treat.
- A virtue, according to Aristotle and St Thomas Aquinas, is both a habit and a principle that guides our actions. Do we have virtuous habits? Do we “fake it until we make it” when it comes to training ourselves to become who we should and want to be?
- Our little flock loves to be together. They frolic and gambol (words we only use for lambs and kids, and which somehow capture their joy) as they play together. They snuggle together in the sun as they rest in a pile after playing. If we lead the old nanny out into the field and leash her there, the others will stay with her, rather than run off.
- What about us? Do we love to play and rest and eat together? I don’t just mean at mass, though of course coming to mass every week is one of those virtuous habits we should cultivate. The good flock gathers often to eat, play, and rest.
- Finally, for now… there are those special ones in the flock. All of the littlest kids come running when they see us, but that’s as much because they’re hoping we have a bottle as anything else. But sometimes, they just want snuggles. Little Cabrita has a great mom, and has never been bottle fed even once, but she runs over for pets and asks to be held.
- It’s good to come to mass, and to be fed. It’s good to appreciate and enjoy the good things we receive from our Good Shepherd. But, I can assure you, as a kinda-ok shepherd of my own little flock, there’s something special about coming to our Lord in adoration or other forms of prayer just to be with him, like John, the disciple whom Jesus loved, who just wanted to be close to the Good shepherd.
Now, I mentioned that sheep don’t know very much. They don’t know where it’s safe to go. They don’t know who is friendly, and who is dangerous. But sheep do know one thing. They know their shepherd.
My kids’ sheep often escaped from the pen. There was no reason for the sheep to escape. They had green things to chew on, clean water, and a friend. They were safe from the neighbor and his dog. In the morning, and at night, they had fresh feed, and good attention. But, still, they escaped.
When a sheep escaped, there were two options. The first was to try to catch the sheep. Sometimes I would try to get food and talk nicely to the sheep. This never worked. I had a little more success if I got the sheep cornered and herded it back to the open gate. Usually, this meant I would very slowly walk around the sheep to get the sheep between me and the gate. Then, if I moved very slowly towards the sheep, sometimes, when she ran away she would accidentally run through the gate. More often, she ran around the house, and I’d have to wait until she stopped, and try again.
The second option was to go to school and pick up one of the kids. They’d get out of the car, walk to the shed, and get a bucket, then rattle the bucket and call the sheep. “Preska!” or, “Buckle!” they would call. The sheep might be all the way around the front side of the house, or eating from mean Mr. McGregor’s garden, but they would come trotting over to get a treat, a scratch behind the ears, and happily walk back into their pen.
I was nice, and animals usually like me, but these were not my sheep. They were my kids’ sheep, and the sheep knew their voice. They trusted their shepherd. They came when they were called.
Do you hear the voice of Jesus? What is he saying to you?
This Sunday is the World Day of Prayer for Vocations to the priesthood and religious life. This morning, Pope Francis addressed “young people, and especially those who feel distant or uncertain about the Church,” saying “Let Jesus draw you to himself; bring him your important questions by reading the Gospels; let him challenge you by his presence, which always provokes in us a healthy crisis. More than anyone else, Jesus respects our freedom. He does not impose, but proposes. Make room for him and you will find the way to happiness by following him. And, should he ask it of you, by giving yourself completely to him.”
Is he calling you to work for him as a priest, or a religious? Or, perhaps he is calling you to be a deacon, a sister, in consecrated life, or faithful spouse. Is he calling you to work for justice in our community or in our nation? Is he calling you to work for peace? Maybe he is calling you to ask or to offer forgiveness.
Or, maybe you don’t think you hear his voice. Sometimes, that may mean that he is walking to the barn to get you a treat. Or, maybe he is trying to get your attention with his silence in order to teach you to listen better.
There are many things the voice of Jesus might say, and to which he might call us, but there is one thing I know he is saying to each and every one:
I died for you, and I do not regret it. I love you, and you are mine.
