I painted this small impressionist painting this past summer while farmsitting for my dad. It’s been on my mind as we are undergoing leadership changes at our church. Whenever big changes happen there is always a certain amount of fear and insecurity. Change is scary and uncertain so it would seem that this an appropriate human response on the part of those who have minimal control over the outcome of that change. But what about the leadership? What do they feel? Are they afraid or insecure? Do they feel like they are going to come in and make all sorts of changes and improvement or do they have a specific set of instructions that they will follow to ensure a smooth transition? In our particular situation there seems to be a quiet tug of war between the older more experienced leaders and those young invigorated leaders who are ready to take over and show everyone how things are supposed be done.
That is what brought me back to this painting. We arrived at my dad’s farm where we had been countless times. We had helped out in the past and seemed to do pretty well simply by following his instructions. This past time was no different. We had a list of chores and were given very specific instructions on the proper way to carry them out. Not too far into our week of farming we were feeling pretty good about ourselves. Farming wasn’t that difficult other than the physical labor. We were practically farmers already. What was the big deal?
We continued our caretaking, meticulously checking off our list of feeding, watering, harvesting, cleaning and even took it upon ourselves to reorganize the barn. I don’t mean to brag, but we were killin’ it. We worked ourselves to exhaustion and slept soundly through the night.
The next morning we awoke to a beautiful mountainside sunrise. The birds were singing, the dew was glistening on the grass, the sheep were...wait. The sheep. Where was the ram?
My dad had the big angry ram separated from the ewes and lambs. It was in part for their safety and also so there wouldn’t be an untimely breeding session. Our stomachs dropped when we realized that the ram was not only out of his pasture, but he had somehow managed to hoist his big fat rear end over the fence and into the other pasture with the ladies, and well, he was having a grand ole’ time.
To the rest of the world, it would have looked like a tranquil pasture full of sheep, but any Shepherd knew the danger and gravity of the scene before them. We almost immediately made the dreaded call to my dad and he basically said that it was too late and it would be too dangerous for us to try to retrieve him on our own, not having had the experience of dealing with such a large violent ram. He would have to take care of it when he returned. He could tell we felt terrible and repeatedly reassured us that we didn’t do anything wrong. These kinds of things happen sometimes. We simply weren’t equipped to deal with this particular problem, but he would take care of everything.
Turns out shepherding ain’t easy. We did everything just as we were instructed, and it still wasn’t enough to keep the sheep in line. It occurred to me that sometimes you can do everything right to protect the flock and bad things still happen. The important thing is how to respond to those problems. Experienced shepherds already know this but for us new shepherds, that was when we were reminded that, at times, certain events are simply out of our control. Ultimately, some things must be left to the Father.
There is a lot to be said for a new shepherd—bold and confident—ready to take the world by storm and show everyone how things are done. That kind of courage is necessary to take on such a big job. On the other hand, a certain dose of humility goes a long way. You can’t simply discount the value of a lifetime of servitude and the wisdom and experience gained by an older shepherd. Maybe he leans more heavily on his staff because his old body is tired and weary, or maybe he know that a man of any age cannot do anything entirely on his own merit, and maybe he has learned to take whatever help is available to him in order to be a more effective leader.
There is a certain amount of good that comes from education and aptitude, but it simply isn’t enough. It doesn’t trump experience, and is no match for wisdom. Certain things will always be out of our control—particularly outcomes. It is vitally important to know when to ask for help as in looking to other who are better equipped, more experienced, or simply in a better position to help, and perhaps even more important to know when to let go entirely, as in trusting the father shepherd to meet the needs of the flock when you have exceeded the boundaries of your own ability. In order to have the discernment necessary to make those judgment calls, there can be no room for arrogance—only humility. Aptitude and education without humility is simply ignorance with a degree.
I share this story because I am reminded that the Lord has the ability to humble people who need to be humbled. He has the ability to teach and refine by making us uncomfortable and reminding us of our shortcomings, while still encouraging us to walk alongside Him. If we don’t reach out on our own, He will give us an incentive to do so—especially those in leadership. Shepherding is a delicate and graceful dance of guiding, nurturing and protecting the flock. It doesn’t take much experience in this field to realize that managing a flock isn’t easy or precise. It is difficult, unpredictable and even somewhat dangerous.
Sheep, take it easy on the shepherd, and shepherd get to know your sheep. Lead with wisdom. Value the experience of those who walked before you. Stay humble. And remember that, after all, a leader who rejects wisdom and experience because of their own arrogance is not a leader at all, rather they are simply the first in line to meet danger.
