8. THE FLOCK FOLLOWING
THE SHEPHERD
If British travelers in Palestine are, with singular unanimity, arrested by
the novel spectacle of the Shepherd going before the sheep, still more
impressive, to the eye unaccustomed to such scenes at home, seems to be the
docility with which the sheep follow the Shepherd. It is a beautiful living
picture in the dumb creation of trustful and confiding attachment. One or two
truants of the flock may stray into the tempting cornfields, unhedged and
unfenced close by; but the vast majority follow closely the footsteps of their
guide. An accurate personal observer of pastoral life in the Judean hills has
noted, that if the sheep stoop down to take a mouthful of the grass across
which their Shepherd leads them, they lift up their heads to see that he is at
hand, fearful of losing sight of him, and of finding themselves beyond reach
of his voice. They will even plunge into the stream or swollen torrent if he
should lead the way.
Is this a feeble figurative description of our docile, trustful following of
the Good Shepherd? Can it be said of us in any humble sense, "We have the mind
of Christ?" For what is the great lesson shadowed forth under this figurative
language, but that our aim, as His people—the flock of His pasture—should be,
to have each thought, wish, feeling, desire, coincident with His holy will.
"Following Jesus" is just, in other words, doing always those things that are
pleasing in His sight. Let us dwell upon this a little more particularly.
To follow Jesus as His spiritual sheep, we must do so FAITHFULLY. We are (or
ought to be) divine artists making the character of the Redeemer our study,
seeking to transfer, with scrupulous fidelity to our hearts and lives, a
copy—imperfect, indeed, at best it must be—of the glorious Original. The four
Gospels are the four corridors of a great picture-gallery, opening into one
another. Their walls are crowded and frescoed with delineations from the story
of His life on earth—scenes illustrative of the divine virtues of the Shepherd
of Israel—for our imitation and example. Here is one picture of matchless
humility—He is washing His disciples' feet. Another—He is weeping with a group
of mourners in a Jewish graveyard. Another—He is bearing unmerited
indignities, in meek, unmurmuring silence. Another—He commends, in His dying
hour, His sorrowing, bereft parent to the care of a trusted friend. Another—He
stretches out the hand of forgiveness to an ungrateful disciple. Another—while
the chariot of cloud is waiting to carry Him upwards to His mediatorial
Throne, His arms of unselfish love are extended in blessing the bereaved and
orphaned men of Galilee! What sublime pictures are these for our study!
Let our transcript—poor, marred, blemished at the best—be as faithful an
approximation as we can. The nearer the artist is placed to the work of the
Great Master, the more exact and successful his copy will be. "Consider," says
the apostle (literally "gaze upon") "Jesus Christ." Study the divine
portraiture, line by line, feature by feature, until you transfix on the
tablet of your own heart some faint resemblance of His spotless character.
"Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus."
In following the guiding Shepherd, let us do so JOYFULLY. The Oriental sheep
does not follow with reluctance. It is not driven with the goad of some cruel
hireling, or terrified into tractability by the dog baying at his heels. It is
a free, voluntary, joyful obedience. It would be unhappy to hear any other
voice, or to follow any other footstep. It obeys the call of the Shepherd,
because it delights to be near him. This is the picture of the true believer.
He follows his Lord with joy. It is not the cold, hard motive of duty—but
rather, duty is transformed into delight. If you ask him why he follows his
Shepherd, he will reply, "The love of Christ constrains me!"
The flower does not follow the sun grudgingly and under constraint. It does
not hide its blushing tints in the shade, or creep under some crevice to
escape the light. On the contrary, it is strange to see the efforts it makes
to free itself from its nook of concealment, and get refreshment and revival
for its leaves and blossoms. The air feeds its invisible vessels; the dews
moisten leaf, and stem, and root; the sun pours upon all its genial warmth;
and the grateful and joyous inanimate thing pushes upwards, as if it longed to
be ever nearer the great dispenser of light and blessing. Why should we creep
like unhealthy plants afraid of the sunshine? "These things," says Christ,
"have I spoken unto you, that my joy might remain in you, and that your joy
might be full." "Rejoice," says the noblest of His followers, "in the Lord
always, and again I say rejoice." Be true sheep to your guiding Shepherd, and
you will "go on your way rejoicing."
Endeavor to follow the Great Shepherd HABITUALLY. The sheep does not follow
its Shepherd by fits and starts; seeking to be near him only when the wolf is
prowling, or when the dog is on its track—when the night shadows are falling,
or the pasture is diminishing. It is generally found close to its protector
and guide. It is an undeviating trustful companionship, in sunshine and
storm—in fullness and in drought—in summer and winter.
So it is, or ought to be, with the Believer—a constant, consistent, habitual
following of his Lord, seeking ever to have a realizing sense of His nearness.
Not merely when trouble is near; in the hour of affliction and sad calamity,
or of impending death; but in the midst of life's joyous sunshine, when
verdure is on the mountainside, when the rills are singing their way down to
the lower valley, and the tinkling bells answering from fold to fold, tell of
nothing but peace, and safety, and repose.
It is not great, or special, or extraordinary experiences which constitute in
the best sense the 'religious character.' It is the uniform daily walk with
God; serving Him in little things as well as great things; in the ordinary
duties and everyday avocations, as well as in the midst of grave and eventful
contingencies. As the most sublime symphony is made up of separate single
notes—as the wealth of the cornfield is made up of separate stalks, or rather
of separate grains; as the magnificent texture, with its gorgeous combinations
of color, its pictures cunningly interweaved by the hand or the shuttle, is
made up of individual threads—as the mightiest avalanche that ever came
thundering down from its Alpine throne, uprooting villages and forests, is
made up of tiny snowflakes; so it is with the spiritual life. That life is
itself the grandest illustration of the power of littles.
Character is the product of daily, hourly actions, and words, and
thoughts—daily forgiveness, unselfishness, kindnesses, sympathies, charities,
sacrifices for the good of others, struggles against temptation,
submissiveness under trial. Oh! it is these, like the blending colors in a
picture, or the blending notes of music, which constitute "the MAN!" It is
when the whole being is in harmony with the Divine will—this—this is the true
"Psalm of Life!"
The flower, of which we spoke a little ago, has no set days for following the
sun, and drinking in his radiance; neither has it any set days for exhaling
its own perfume. It swings its censer of incense in the still air all summer
long. So with the Christian. His heart is a true sun-flower, following the
Great Spiritual Luminary from dawn to eventide, drooping its head in sadness
when the night shadows fall, and ready to expand the folded blossom again at
the summons of the morning. He does not give God the Sabbath merely, and
closes his leaves and petals to holy influences all the week. He seeks to
begin it, carry it on, and end it under the consciousness of the Divine favor.
His morning prayer strikes the key-note of each day. "Give ear, O Shepherd of
Israel, You that lead Joseph like a flock."
Let us seek, as the flock of Christ, to follow the Shepherd ONLY. No other
voice, no other leader ought we to hear. There are other voices to which, in
these days, we are apt to listen, rather than that of the Heavenly Shepherd.
In these divided modern sheepfolds, we have one saying, 'Paul is my shepherd;'
another, 'Apollos is mine;' another, 'Cephas is mine.' We hear the word
"toleration" applied among professing Christians more frequently than we
should. Sheep tolerating one another—Shepherds tolerating one another; yes,
and sometimes not even that. Salvation is made to turn on the question of
sectarianism. The Jewish sheep and the Jewish shepherds have no dealing with
the Samaritan sheep and the Samaritan shepherds. Sheep are
excluded—excommunicated from the fold—because they have not some
discriminating symbols of human device, apart from God's symbol of holiness of
character. Oh! that we were done with these wretched man-made distinctions!
They are like the marks the earthly shepherd puts on the wool of his sheep to
distinguish them, but which are no test whatever of intrinsic value. As we
have seen some of the basest truants of the fold, some poor, haggard,
pertinacious wanderers, bearing on their fleece forged initials; so it is by
no artificial lettering—no church or denominational symbolism—that we are to
discriminate the true sheep of Christ. What says Paul, that noble
under-shepherd? "Be you," he says "followers of me"—or followers of
Apollos—followers of Cephas. How? "As far as we are followers of Christ." No
further. 'Follow us only as we follow the Chief Shepherd. Follow us only if
you hear in us His voice.'
God's mark is that which He set of old on Caleb—"He wholly followed the Lord
his God." Not that we plead for a condition of the Church which we have no
reason either to expect or desire; an amalgamating of all the different sects
and sections an absorption of all the different folds into one. We question if
this would be the mind of the Chief Shepherd. But as on our own hill slopes
and mountain sides at eventide, there comes from the pendant bells of many
separate folds a sweet and pleasing harmony of blended sound, so there might
be (there ought to be) union if not communion—cooperation if there is not
incorporation. "Whereto we have attained, let us walk by the same rule, let us
mind the same thing:" recognizing a brother wherever we see a true follower of
Jesus; extending Christian sympathy and fellowship wherever we see the
unmistakable marks of the spiritual character and life.
Up! and follow the Lord FULLY. The traveler, overtaken in the snowstorm, knows
that the longer he dallies, the greater will be his danger. He grasps his
pilgrim-staff, and, facing the cutting wind and blinding drift, he pursues his
arduous way. It is a blessed promise, "Then shall we know if we follow on to
know the Lord." And the nearer we are in conscious fellowship with Christ, the
more closely we track His footsteps—the safer and more joyous and more
privileged we shall be.
An intelligent observer, in speaking of some sheep who are always nearest the
shepherd, says, "These are his special favorites. He is ever distributing to
such, choice portions which he gathers for that purpose.' Near Christ now, He
will feed us with the finest of the wheat. Near Him now, we shall be
privileged to enjoy nearer access to Him hereafter. Our spiritual condition
and position now will determine our place in the fold above. It is according
as we gravitate on earth near the Great central Spiritual Sun, that our orbit
will be fixed in the celestial firmament. While yet, then, still at a distance
from the heavenly pastures, be it ours to imbibe the spirit, and to walk in
the footsteps of our Shepherd-Redeemer, that when we reach the golden meadows
of heaven, when we take our place among the flock of the ransomed, it may
still be said of us, in a nobler sense, "THESE ARE THEY WHICH FOLLOW THE LAMB
WHEREVER HE GOES."