Dear Friends,

Good shepherds don’t work alone.

In anticipation of taking up the 23rd Psalm this coming Sunday, I’ve been recalling my days in Scotland when I enjoyed watching sheepdog trials on TV. (Watched televised dart competitions and curling matches, too! I’ll see if I can work those into another blog entry sometime.) And as I zigged and zagged my way across the Scottish countryside, I also spent plenty of time crawling (in my bright blue Ford Fiesta) behind shepherds who were moving their flocks from place to place.

What I’ve observed is that shepherds are grossly outnumbered by their charges. When it appears that a single human with a big stick is able to keep a crowd of sheep heading in one direction, you’d think there’s some sort of magic at work. But that apparent magic is due (in part, at least) to two other observations:

1) Kinda like birds or fish that move in groups, sheep have a flocking tendency. Get some percentage of the group on board and, Bob’s your uncle, many if not most of the rest will join them as if by magnetic magic.

2) Even if you're unaware that they’re working, sheepdogs are pretty much magically brilliant extensions of the shepherd’s guidance. When on the job, they seem eager to be given their marching orders and they look absolutely delighted to carry out said orders.

The shepherd, being taller and thus having a preferred vantage point, can see when stragglers need to be brought into line or sense when a sheep or two are about to go rogue. A particular cadence or tone in a whistle sends the shepherd’s signal to the sheepdog. And the sheepdog responds - as if by magic - by going and doing exactly what the shepherd commands. Equally magical: the sheepdog’s able to apply the command in a way that results into pretty precise sheep behavior.

Take a look here, for example (click on the YouTube settings gear and you can speed it up to 2x!). There are clearly commands for “nudge ‘em left,” “nudge ‘em right,” “speed ‘em up,” “now, give them some space” and “stand down.” Can’t say that I’m as smart as the sheepdog, so I bet there are way more commands than the ones I noted. (Could there be a command that says, “Now we’ve gotta get ‘em through the fence on your right”?) There are also moments when it’s clear that the sheepdog knows what needs to be done and seems to be responding before a command is ever given. (Notice in the header photo for this post: the shepherd’s eyes are on the sheep to the left while the sheepdog’s eyes are on the right-hand part of the flock.)

What’s most fascinating is that there is a true partnership between the shepherd and the sheepdog. Technically, I suppose, the shepherd is the head honcho, but the truth is that neither could accomplish their goal without the other.

So, pastors often are referred to as shepherds, but I expect that we, along with other church leaders, are really more like sheepdogs than shepherds. Deacons, Elders, pastors: we’re all listening together for what our Good Shepherd would have us hear and think, say and do.

It’s nominating season. Time to propose some additional sheepdogs for this congregation. As you imagine whose name you might put forward, I’d invite you to think most about who seems to have an instinct for anticipating our Good Shepherd’s commands. Who has such an intimate knowledge and experience of the Triune God that she or he would be able to nudge, guide and lead this congregation in coming years? Who’s less inclined toward a lone ranger way of doing things and instead has a tendency to collaborate with a cohort of other sheepdogs? Is that someone you know? Or might it be you? We could use a few good sheepdogs.

See you Sunday!

Peace,

Lisa

Photo credit: Biegun Wschodni on Unsplash.