4-17-19 SHEEP (Psalm 23 Part II)

(continued from 4-16-19 post)

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.

Dark valleys, steep precipices, unknown places; these are frightening not only to timid sheep, but to humans as well. When sheep are directed to enter such places they will resist unless their shepherd encourages them with a calm voice. If a shepherd shouts the sheep will not obey.  A good shepherd reassures his flock that he is with them always, that he knows the way, and they can trust him to not leave them. 

Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.

Shepherds carry with them two simple tools: a staff that has on it either a large hooped crook used to collect a sheep around the neck, or a small bent crook used to grab them by the legs. Staffs keep sheep from going astray, and draw them close to the shepherd.

leg staff

A rod is a club shaped piece of wood, like a small baseball bat, used to throw at other animals that might harm the sheep. 

One tool is used for offense, to restrain a wayward lamb. The other is used for defense, to protect sheep from harmful intruders.

Even if a shepherd never has to use either tool, knowing that he has the tools and is willing to use them provides comfort to the sheep.

The staff is also used to keep the shepherd stable in his own journey. He will use it to gently rub or scratch his sheep. These signs of affection calm the sheep and endear the shepherd to them.

 PSALM 23

The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want

He maketh me to lie down in GREEN PASTURES

He leadeth me BESIDE THE STILL WATERS

He RESTORETH my soul

He leadeth me in the PATHS OF RIGHTEOUSNESS for HIS NAME’s sake.

Yeah, though I walk through the valley of the SHADOW OF DEATH, I will fear no evil, for thou are with me

Thy ROD and thy STAFF, they comfort me….

So far the story unfolds like this:

I’m a lamb, and the Lord is my Shepherd. I want for nothing more. He takes me to a green pasture, then to still waters. I fall over on the edge of the water. He restores me to my upright position. He then leads through a narrow passageway, making sure I stay on the path so no one else can claim me. We end up in a deep, dark valley, and though I would normally be SCARED TO DEATH, I’m not, because his rod and his staff comfort me and protect me.

In pondering how the Shepherd completely owns his sheep, dedicates himself to their care, and defends them against evil, I am reminded of a scene in the movie Schildler’s List. Oskar Schindler finds out the Jewish women who worked at his factory have been taken and loaded onto a cattle car. Oskar runs to the train station, only to find out that the train has already left for a concentration camp. He asks for their return. The Nazi commander tells him he can have another carload tomorrow, and the workers will be fresh. But Schindler insists on these specific women, who belong to the families of his workers. 

“You should not get stuck on names and lists”, the Nazi tells him. 

But Schindler insists: “These are mine! You cannot have them, they are mine!”

In the deepest part of me I hear my divine Advocate defending me, insisting, against the odds I have created for myself, that I cannot be taken. 

I am His. 

I cannot be replaced.

I have a name, and it is on His list.
And in that insistent declaration, I am undone.  

... for Thou are with me.

4-16-19 SHEEP (Psalm 23)

It’s lambing season here in Farmington, Utah. Our neighbors, Patricia and Steve, own a sweet little piece of earth down on Main street. Beside the lovely old rock house with the waterfall of daffodils currently streaming down the hillside, they have embraced an additional plot of meadow surrounded by woods as a sheep pasture. Last week Patricia posted this note to the neighbors:

Isn’t it just the dearest thing that we live in a place where we keep our eyes out for each other’s lambs?

Steve and Patricia's lovely property on Main Street.

Stevie Wood, the shepherd.

Today, as I drove Beth to her ballet class, we pulled over by the sheep pasture to see if there were any little lambs toddling about. No luck. But the rest of the way to her ballet class I attempted to recite the 23^rdPsalm. This is what came from the top of my head:

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures, He restoreth my soul, He leadeth me in the path of righteousness for His name’s sake, He feedeth me…something. He anoints my head with oil. He leadeth me beside the still waters. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil, thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.  Thou settest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies. My cup runneth over.  Something, something, and I shall dwell somewhere, for a long time. Amen. 

Quite honestly, I slipped into ending with… “For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory Forever, Amen." But I was driving, and Beth was talking and Tess was complaining from her car seat,  and it was raining, so cut me some slack for confusing the Psalm of David with the Lord's Prayer.

But seriously, I’m a Christian! I should know this stuff. 

Not only am I a Christian, I have a passion for the analogy of sheep and shepherds. I even collect sheep. Not the real ones, just sweet little facsimiles. When I visit a foreign land, I try to find a representative little lamb for my collection.

A scene from my sofa table.

So, for this little space of time leading up to Easter I believe I will ponder the 23^rdPsalm, and in the process, try to own it. 

With the help of an old book I bought in Wales, called The Downlander Shepherd, and a little picture book I’ve had for years, called He Is My Shepherd, I’ll begin:

1. The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want.

Sheep, unlike deer or other animals, need the guidance of a shepherd. They are vulnerable, and have been graced with the ability to follow. With the guidance of a shepherd, they will happily live and follow in flocks, uniting rather than competing with each other. If sheep have a dutiful shepherd, one who sincerely cares for their well being, they are generally calm and cooperative. Their shepherd supplies their needs.

2. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures.

After sheep have finished grazing they lie down and chew their cud. That’s how they are made. If they are nervous or feel unsafe, they will not relax enough to follow this natural process. The presence of their shepherd allows sheep to relax and digest their food.

3. He leadeth me beside the still waters. 

Sheep are timid and easily frightened. Swift moving waters frighten them. When they are thirsty they would rather drink from stagnant water or mud holes that may be disease ridden. A good shepherd will find water that is fresh, clean and calm, so that their sheep may drink in peace. Shepherds from the Western hemisphere drive their flocks ahead of them. Eastern shepherds lead their flocks, showing the way, and they follow him. They trust him because they see him taking unknown paths before them. He will walk beside them when the landscape is wide, and when they are on familiar ground, he will sometimes call to them from behind, urging them on, while at the same time gathering stragglers and strays.

4. He restoreth my soul.

There are photos in The Downlander Shepherd that show a large woolly sheep all bloated and upside down, his legs pointed straight up in the air. You would call a sheep in this predicament "cast down". It’s a sorry sight. (I’ll spare you the visual.) Before they are shorn, sheep with a heavy coat of wool can end up upside down with the weight of their wool. Often they lie down on a slope and end up rolling the wrong way, then they cannot right themselves. The hot sun on the sheep’s soft belly can bring death in just a few hours. A good shepherd keeps careful watch on each member of his flock, counting them, calling them by name, and when one is distressed, or cast down, he restores him to his rightful position.

Stray sheep are also collected and restored to the flock.

5. He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.

Sheep are stubborn animals, and they are prone to easy paths. In ancient days, in holy lands, there were narrow paths between fields of crops which were owned by individual farmers. If animals strayed into those fields and ate crops, farmers were entitled to take the sheep of kill them. Shepherds trained their flocks to walk in single file through these passages, his voice urging them to stay on the narrow paths. In order for a shepherd to keep his own sheep he had to make sure they remained on the safe paths. Flocks were known by the name of their shepherd, and it was costly for him to lose sheep who went astray.

In rocky and hilly areas, or marshy meadows, sheep had to be carefully guided for their own safety, and for the safety of the flock. If one sheep failed, the attention the shepherd had to give that sheep put the rest of the flock at risk. Wise shepherds know that it is easier, in the end, to move a flock carefully and slowly rather than haphazardly.

(Tomorrow I will continue with the rest of Psalm 23. But here goes, sight unseen, after having walked myself through it.)

1. The Lord is my SHEPHERD, I shall not want. 

2. He maketh me to lie down in GREEN PASTURES. 

3. He leadeth me beside the  STILL WATERS. 

4. He RESTORETH my soul. 

5. He leadeth me in the PATHS OF RIGHTEOUSNESS for His name’s sake.

Here's how I see it in story form: Jesus, my shepherd, takes care of me. He makes me lie down in a green pasture, then he leads me to water, then when I fall over with my belly full of water, he restores me to my upright position. After we have eaten grass and drunk water we file through the fields of a village one by one, with crops on either side, and I do not wander into the crops. If I leave the path then someone else can claim me, and I need to keep my shepherd’s name.... (to be continued)