Churches should be like little pastures full with sheep.
When people say that, more progressive Christians usually think about a pasture, full with sheep, and a powerful shepherd to lead them. Such visions usually end in difficulty, since the shepherd always assumes the position of leadership, determines a vision and sets out on an ambitious program to get all the sheep along. With bold statements, the shepherd will hold up this vision for all to see, declare “this is the will of God”, and lay it down as the basic rule for all the little sheep to measure themselves against. So all the strong and muscular sheep, who are well integrated and ready to submit themselves to authority, align themselves with the vision and become the “progressive sheep”, and are entrusted with leading others; while other sheep who are not as willing to submit themselves, or for various reasons shouldn’t do so, become the “less progressive sheep”, and are as such in dire need of intercession, help (sometimes forceful), and prayer, to get along and become progressive. The goal for such pastures is to have sheep donning beautiful uniforms, marching along in columns of five or ten to the hymnal chorus. When interrogated about their mission or faith, they will all respond in the prescribed manner, properly beginning and ending their statement with a forceful “sir!”. These sheep often have lieutenants, making sure that they all march in order, that uniforms are neat and clean, and that no one is falling behind. “How do you expect to slay the wolf with dust on your jump wings?” they will ask the sheep under their command, and all sheep will then dutifully polish their jump wings, proving to their superiors that they are, indeed, fit for action.
The tendency of these sheep in actual battle will be to storm the enemy head on. The lieutenant sheep, full of ambition to impress their superiors, will usually run first; and will lead the whole flock in sprinting across the battlefield with loud war-cries, and just as naturally will also be the first to be cut down by the enemy machine-gunners. This will derail the entire attack, as the individual sheep now have lost their leader, and will be uncertain as to how to best go on. Some will continue running and will be cut down as well, some will throw themselves on the ground, wondering what the heck is going on, and some will run the other way, not stopping until they have found another flock of sheep who might have better luck. This will be followed by a general – but gradual – retreat, and many will ultimately return to the home pasture, although few sheep will from this moment on look the other sheep in the eyes, and no one will talk about the attack or what went wrong. (There are even more progressive pastures who will indeed write after-action reports, try to determine the cause of failure, and press the attack harder the next time, oftentimes with equal results.)
No, these are not the pastures I’m thinking about.
When I think “pasture”, I think of a little patch of grass next to a stream, where a shepherd rests under a tree, keeping a half-closed (but watchful!) eye on his little sheep. This pasture is different. This shepherd does not exercise authority – he knows his authority but rarely uses it, and then only to make sure that harmony is kept within his little domains. His pasture is for healing. This is a quiet little patch of grass, safe from the worries of the world, where sheep can come to rest, be safe from the wolves, and feed upon green, fresh, juicy grass.
These sheep do not march in columns. Instead, these sheep sit in the grass, seeking the will of the Master. The shepherd joins them from time to time, but does not impose his will on the sheep; he knows better than that. His delight is in seeing the sheep grow up to be all that they can be. He knows that some of the sheep will never leave the pasture, taking up careers in servanthood and helping and caring for the others. Other sheep may grow up to be vicious warrior sheep, leaving the pasture for times and seasons and go out to hunt wolf. And when a couple of sheep join together – for bonding together in purpose, vision and belief makes them much stronger than on their own – nothing could gladden the shepherd’s heart more.
Ultimately, this shepherd knows the Master himself. He knows that this is not his own pasture, but that the Master has ordained him and entrusted him with the care of the Master’s sheep. He knows that the Master has a vision and a plan for the pasture, but this the shepherd keeps in his own heart and rarely shares with the sheep themselves. He does not see himself as a leader, but as a servant; but in the Master’s eyes, this shepherd is the greatest leader of them all, a leader after His own heart. For he is not afraid to lay down his life for these little sheep in his care.
The Master knows this. And the Master is not afraid to add sheep to this little pasture, for He knows that they will be well taken care of. Some sheep He puts there for a time, to heal, rest, learn and then move on; other sheep He adds to the pasture permanently, to remain there and serve.
One day will come when all His pastures will be tended like this. He is waiting for that day. And these sheep will not be mindless drones, they will all be perfected in their individual skills. And when these sheep run across the battlefield towards the enemy, they will not be cut down; they have learned their lessons beforehand. They will move as a well-functioning body of believers; logistics, medical care and leadership will be integrated in it. And the pastures will remain in their function to heal, teach and train.
For these pastures are not as innocent as they seem. They are His barracks, for training an entire army of soldier sheep… cleverly disguised as little patches of grass.
