I mention this idea not just because we're trying a new approach to pastoral care here, but because I think it's directly linked to the Christ the King readings for Sunday.
In the Ezekiel readings, God is portrayed as the shepherd. He says he will gather up the lost, heal the injured and strengthen the weak. And the 'fat and strong' sheep who've been pushing the weak ones about, justice will prevail. Now let's take a minute to consider the shepherd. We get all sorts of lovely pastoral images of the Good Shepherd...a very handsome Jesus in the countryside with a wee-lamb on his shoulder. The skies are blue and the rolling hills are lush and green. It's a very comforting image. But let's consider reality for a moment. Yes, the sky may be blue and the pastures green, but the work of a shepherd can be dirty. Sheep are dirty. They sleep in dirt, get burs stuck in their wool, they step in poop. Yep, that's the life of a sheep. And while a shepherd nurtures and cares for his flock, he is not a passive being...often he has to fight off predators. Remember David...he started off as a shepherd and was skilled enough with a sling shot to kill a giant! So while we get this beautiful, pastoral image of God nurturing those who are lost, injured and weak, Ezekiel reminds us of the prophetic image as well...that justice will be brought to the wrong doers.
I think there are times when we are the lost sheep. We've been wandering around, getting lost, not being nurished, feeling weak and abandoned. And when we're having these times, this Good Shepherd image restores us. But I also think there are times when we are the bully sheep--the fat and the strong ones. We've been acting out of fear, anger and frustration. We've lost sight of how to love one another. And when we're having these moments, I think this Good Shepherd images calls us into accountability. We will be judged for our behaviors and our lack of love, and this calls us to repent and seek forgiveness. So I think we can be both types of sheep at different times in our daily living.
And then there's the Matthew reading (25:31-46). Here we have Jesus saying "just as you did to the least of these, you did it to me". And once again we hear about a separating out of the sheep and the goats. Every time I've heard someone preach on this text, the "moral of the story" is always don't be goats. But what does it mean to not be a goat? Well, it means that we have to be more like the shepherd--we have to care for the least, the last, the lost and the excluded. Not because we're obligated to or because it's our job, but because God loves us. Just as God is our Good Shepherd, so we then must shepherd others. It means we have to create safe spaces for people to feel welcome, to feed others, to bind their wounds, to listen to their worries, to "get our hands dirty". When Jesus tells us that he is there with the prisoner, the hungry, the naked and the lonely, he means it. He is there. He has been all those things in his own lifetime, and he continues to be there, and will be there until there is no more sorrow or pain.
Now when we start thinking about the global scale of that kind of sorrow in the world, the number of sheep who are lost, injured and weak, the call to be shepherds is suddenly too overwhelming. To think that we can heal the world is just too idealistic. But that's not what being a shepherd is all about. Shepherds know that they need to care for their flock, and that other shepherds elsewhere are also caring for their respective flocks. So let's get out of the metaphor and talk practicalities.
The motto of the Daughters of the King is this:
For His Sake . . .
I am but one, but I am one.
I cannot do everything, but I can do something.
What I can do, I ought to do.
What I ought to do, by the grace of God I will do.
Lord, what will you have me do?
So no, we can't heal the whole world by ourselves. But we can do something. I implore you to think about it, reflect on times when you have been among "the fat and the strong", times when you neglected those in need, and also times when you've been the one who was lost. And then lift it to God: Lord, what will you have me do?