I don’t like being called a sheep. As a city person, I don’t really know much about sheep, except that they are stupid, dirty, smelly creatures that stand around all day eating grass, willing to follow the crowd even if they are about to run off the cliff. I could be wrong, of course, but from what I’ve heard, sheep have no imagination or curiosity about much of anything. They do what they are told, not even having the good sense to run away from wolves or other predators. I, on the other hand, value my independence, my intelligence, my ability to figure things out for myself. So when Jesus starts talking about being the good shepherd,* I tend to tune out. After all, I am not a lowly sheep who needs taking care of.
Or, maybe I am, and just don’t want to admit it. When I focus on how different and special I am, I forget how much I depend on others for my very survival. It takes a lot of other people whom I have never met to ensure that the water that comes out of the tap is safe to drink. I depend on farmers, truckers, and grocery clerks (to name only a few) to do their jobs so that I can have food to eat. I depend on bus drivers to get me where I am going, on the people at the electric company to make sure that I have power to run my devices, and on government employees to make sure that EMTs and fire fighters will show up if I call 911.
I also need to feel useful and to feel loved and cared for. As much as I value my solitude, I also value my relationships with others. Lunch with the same, small group of friends every Sunday after church has become an ongoing conversation that deepens over time. Sharing our lives in the context of a common call in my mission group has become a safe place for mutual confession and forgiveness. Regular zoom calls, texts, and emails with my sister, my children, and with longtime friends, keep the connections lively when distance or other circumstances keep us from being together face-to-face.
All of this tells me that, whether I like to acknowledge it or not, I am— and need to be— part of the flock. And when Jesus calls me, I am comforted that he knows me by my own, unique, and special name. I guess that I am a sheep, after all. And Jesus, the Good Shepherd, always leads me straight into the loving heart of God.
- What keeps you from wanting to be part of the flock?
- What might belonging to the flock do for you?
- What helps you to hear the voice of God calling your name?
–Deborah Sokolove, Seekers Church
