Bonus Reading: Courage

Courage

I found shepherds constantly referring to the need for protection, since a wilderness environment is both a source of nourishment and a hub of hazards. Shepherds have to exploit the life-giving assets of these desolate settings while protecting their flocks from ever-present deadly threats. They described their dogs and rifles and the security of their pens. And I heard story after story about hyenas, panthers, wolves, and thieves. The geography and climate also conspire against the welfare of a herd: the sand, the sun, the wind, and the floods. 

One of the ironies of shepherding in the wilderness is that while flock animals are physiologically suited to arid wastelands, they are completely defenseless in these remote regions. Sheep don’t have sharp teeth or claws. Their eyesight is limited to between ten and fifteen yards. The animals’ only natural defense is their instinct to flock together. Isolation spells sure ruin. The only reliable source of security comes from the shepherd’s presence. A flock cannot be left alone! 

The sheep’s utter dependence on shepherds is commonly observed. More striking is their passive submission to human leadership, even during branding, sheering, and slaughter. While this remarkable behavior can easily lead to abuse, good shepherds view this temperament as worthy of respect. The Sarakatsani herders say, “Sheep are docile, enduring, pure. . . . The animal suffers in silence. To match this purity and passive courage shepherds ought to be fearless and devoted guardians.”¹ 

The more I heard shepherds refer to courage, the more I appreciated their role as protectors. I found a characteristic pride among herders who had weathered storms for their flocks, fought hand to hand with wild predators, and slept out in the open, ready to defend their livestock at the risk of their own lives. One Jordanian Bedouin bragged about his brother during an interview, “Najida is strong of heart. He has slept in a cave with a hyena!” Another shepherd just showed me his hands to prove how many times he had been bitten by vipers and other wild animals. 

This treacherous life is too much for the faint of heart. One boy confessed, “There was too much danger for me every day. The dunes are dangerous. The jungle by the river is dangerous. All the hyenas live in the dunes or in the jungle. Also maybe a thief comes and I don’t see him.”² I can empathize with the young shepherd’s terror. Once darkness falls, anyone can panic. But should he run, a whole herd will become victims. 

When the psalmist prays, “Though I walk through the valley of deadly shadows, I will fear no harm” (Psalm 23:4 at), his confidence is grounded in the fearless courage and vigilance of his Divine Shepherd. Though green pastures and still waters are essential for the sheep’s health and well- being, the provider must also be a trustworthy protector for the dependent Courage 111 animal’s survival. We often think of David as a shepherd-poet, but before he became king he was recognized as a valiant warrior as well (1 Samuel 16:18). 

I was surprised by how many ancient kings described themselves as shepherd- warriors. Consider the words of NeoAssyrian King Assurnasirpal I, a figure roughly contemporary with David: 

In ancient Greece shepherding was associated metaphorically with military leadership more than with any other role. The major writers of the classical period frequently depicted Greek commanders as shepherds, and the pastoral image was occasionally qualified with references to intimacy and concern for the men in their charge. Shepherd-generals were tender toward their “flocks” and fierce protectors of their homelands. Apparently they found this combination of roles natural and congruent. 

The more I studied these texts together with Scripture, the more I realized that this combination was biblical. God’s people were often threatened by invading armies. Worse, they were abused and harassed by their own leaders. God promised to appoint shepherd leaders over his people so “they will no longer be afraid or terrified” (Jeremiah 23:4).⁴ 

We’ve already seen the setting for Jesus’s declaration of his identity as the Good Shepherd in John 10. His compassion for a man who was blind led to conflict with religious leaders he implicitly implicated as thieves, hirelings, and even wolves. Only Israel’s legitimate Leader could be trusted to protect his sheep. He would do no less than lay down his life for them. 

The Good Shepherd was more direct in other speeches. In a series of prophetic woes, he castigated self- serving leaders as a “brood of vipers” whose intent was only harm (Matthew 23:33). Jesus was a tenacious prophetic shepherd who challenged Israel’s leadership when he found the crowds “harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd” (9:36). 

In this second segment of our journey we’ll be trying to balance nurturing and compassionate provision with vigilant and courageous protection. Each role calls for a different sentiment and posture. One calls for a soft heart, the other a strong heart. We’ll learn to be gentle as doves and shrewd as serpents. We’ll be called to care in the day and watch in the night. 

Some of us prefer mercy to justice, grace to law, the staff to the rod. Others prefer the opposite. But as shepherds, we need to occupy both roles comfortably. The parents who tuck their children into bed with a story, a prayer, and a gentle kiss are the same parents who check the alarm system, lock the doors, and respond swiftly if the dog barks. We understand intuitively that love expresses itself in both ways. Similarly, shepherding involves our God-given stewardship in tangible expressions of compassionate provision and courageous protection. 

I’ve discovered this balance to be missing in Christian communities—churches, nonprofits, universities, small groups. Sometimes a board discussion will avoid sensitive issues because someone’s feelings may get hurt. Yet the fate of our members hangs on our decisions. Shepherding requires us at times to lobby and advocate with resolve and to organize efforts against popular opinion. Shepherding requires us to “speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves” (Proverbs 31:8). Ultimately, shepherding requires an identification with our flock that leads to personal risk and sacrifice. 

Rabbi Leo Baeck was determined to help his fellow Jews in Germany during the Holocaust. He voluntarily admitted himself into a concentration camp. When activists among the Allied countries tried to arrange for a prisoner swap to release Baeck, they were told, “Your mission is in vain; if the man is such as you have described him, he will never desert his flock.”⁵ 

May we all aspire to such an expression of shepherd leadership.

1. John Kennedy Campbell, Honour, Family, and Patronage: A Study of Institutions and Moral Values in a Greek Mountain Community (Oxford: Clarendon, 1964), 26. 
2. Richard Critchfield, The Golden Bowl Be Broken: Peasant Life in Four Cultures (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1973), 28. 
3. Daniel David Luckenbill, Ancient Records of Assyria and Babylon, vol. 1, Historical Records of Assyria from the Earliest Times to Sargon (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1926), 39. 
4. The Babylonian King Hammurabi wrote, “I made the peoples rest in friendly habitations. . . . I did not let them have anyone to terrorize them.” Notes 279 In James B. Pritchard, ed., Ancient Near Eastern Texts Relating to the Old Testament (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1969), 178. 
5. Naomi E. Pasachoff, Great Jewish Thinkers: Their Lives and Work (Millburn, NJ: Behrman House, 1992), 154.

Taken from The Good Shepherd: Forty Biblical Insights on Leading and Being Led © 2024 by Timothy S. Laniak.  Used by permission of Our Daily Bread Publishing, Box 3566, Grand Rapids, MI 49501.  All rights reserved.