Our Shepherd God

A sermon preached with the people of St. John’s Episcopal Church in Oakland, California.

“The Lord is my shepherd; *

I shall not be in want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures *

and leads me beside still waters.

He revives my soul *”

Can’t you just imagine the feel of the soft ground underneath you as you lie down, and your body relaxes? Can’t you just hear the faint gurgling of gentle water lapping on the shore? See the flitter of birds overhead? Feel the breeze on your face?

It’s such a comforting setting. It’s like a breath of fresh air.

Even when death itself comes knocking at the door, the poet assures us that we should not let our heartrate rise. God is with us. We will be okay. Just go back to that setting. That soft ground and water.

The poetry of the 23rd Psalm and the metaphor of God as shepherd seems to hit on something deep within so many of us. It’s almost like a longing; to be transported to that scene.  

The 23rd Psalm was already hundreds of years old when John wrote his account of Jesus’ great pastoral declaration: “I am the good shepherd.” And the Hebrew psalmnist was surely drawing on even more ancient tradition.

As I thought about the power and persistence of pastoral imagery on the human imagination this week, I realized I can easily name examples in ancient Greek and Roman literature; in European art and letters; and certainly, in English-speaking American popular culture and art, but not beyond those contexts. And one day of research has of course not come close to remedying this gap in my American white-supremacist education, but it is quite easy to see that this draw to (this longing for) a pastoral setting is not unique to what we think of as “the west.”

Pastoral imagery that appreciates the beauty of the earth and the care of the shepherd for the flock shows up in Middle Eastern literature and poetry, particularly the Arabic and Persian traditions; in Indian mythology and the Hindu tradition; in Chinese folklore and writings; in Japanese art and poetry; in African proverbs, music and stories; in South American songs and verse. To name just a few.  

So what is this about? Why do things pastoral speak to so many of us?

One piece of the answer seems to be about the shepherds themselves – full of wisdom, guidance and, certainly, patience. It is quite easy for me to imagine myself as a silly sheep; like the one in that viral video – leaping right back into a ditch it has just been freed from. I need a God who will pull me back to safety, again and again. I need a good shepherd.

Shepherds know each one of their pesky sheep, like me. But they also know the landscape they guide us through. They can interpret the subtle changes of seasons in God’s creation, and the new growth along the path. Unlike the wise men, the shepherds didn’t need a star to find the Christ child; only the direction from the heavenly host to go to Bethlehem. They knew the way. They knew the land. And so, it is not surprising that today’s shepherds (otherwise known as pastoralists) are reported to be on the front lines of climate change; both in the way they experience it, and the things they might teach us about surviving it.

In Mongolia, in Kenya, in Senegal, in England, in China; around the world, more than 50 million people continue this work as shepherds of the flock, “keep[ing] domestic animals and mov[ing] with them to seek fresh pastures.”

And those pastures are traditionally concentrated in regions called “drylands” – around the world. Grassy, arid savannahs. Green pastures. Still waters.

Drylands are highly vulnerable to climate change; highly vulnerable to what is called “desertification,” as the planet warms.

A story from the Associated Press notes that “The practice [of pastoralism] has survived for so long because it is designed to adapt to a changing environment — pastoralists move with animals to find fresh pasture and water, leaving behind fallow land to regrow …

“Although pastoralism has sustained these populations for millennia, it faces mounting pressures from deteriorating environments, shrinking rangelands, and new generations who seek a less grueling life. At the same time, pastoralism is modernizing, with groups leveraging technology …

“Experts say it's a lesson that could help those who raise livestock at larger scales adapt and reduce the impact on the environment. Pastoralists aren't only trying to outrun climate change; they're combating it.”

The work of a shepherd has never been “a simple life.” Jesus does not conjure a job description for himself that is easy or predictable. Then as now, shepherds around the world are not a group centered in society; they live far from the idyllic pictures of stained glass and gold-framed paintings. They exist largely on the margins; doing hard, dirty work. The kind of hard, dirty work that just might save the world; if we would follow.

Contemporary English shepherd and author James Rebanks, who has rejected modern farming technology and practices in favor of the methods of his ancestors, says, “Our [pastoral] system is not about maximizing productivity, but producing what we can sustainably from the landscape. It took traditional communities often thousands of years to learn by trial and error how to live within the constraints of tough environments like ours. It would be foolish to forget these lessons or allow the knowledge to fall out of use. In a future without fossil fuels, and with a changing climate, we may need these things again.”

Rebanks adds that with an advancing climate crisis, and the food insecurity that comes with it, a renewed commitment to small-scale farming and pastoralist approaches to raising livestock will help sustain the soil and support diverse species.

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not be in want.” “I am the Good Shepherd.”

We are a people who follow a shepherd God.

And that does mean that in times of trouble and anguish and pain, we can find comfort in knowing that God is there to find us and pull us out of ditch; to lead us to safety; to save us, over and over and over.

But I think it also means we are called to follow the shepherd’s way of respect for and knowledge of the land.

Following the good shepherd may mean laying down one’s life, yes. And, it may mean laying down one’s lifestyle. Perhaps living simply, with less “stuff”; walking instead of driving; Zooming instead of flying; buying second-hand instead of “fast fashion”; cutting meat from our diet; reusing and repurposing; reducing plastics. And so much more

Please do not read in this a suggestion that I, a follower of the good shepherd, am doing all of this. Many of you do far, far more than I do! I am doing my best at this moment. And friends, our best is the best we silly sheep can do.

But I think this twofold celebration of Good Shepherd Sunday and Earth Day tomorrow is a good time to take stock and to think about what we can do to preserve our green pastures and our still waters. And it’s a good time to find comfort in knowing that even in the face of humanity’s biggest challenge, “we shall fear no evil, for God is with us.”

Our great and loving shepherd God.  

This sermon was largely inspired by James Rebanks’s books, The Shepherd’s Life, and Pastoral Song. Also, follow him on Twitter (I know, I know).