We Lie Down In Green Pastures

Looking out the window at snow, snow, and more snow, it might sound odd to consider “He makes me to lie down in green pastures.” (Psalm 23:2)

Most of the inhabitants of the Northwest have been forced to “lie down,” to cancel our plans and accept instead a time of weather-dictated rest. If you aren’t technically “snowed in,” you’ve probably crossed every nonessential activity off your calendar to avoid the slippery roads.

David was a shepherd. He knew sheep. There are four things his sheep needed before they could lie down and rest.

First, they had to be free of fear. Sheep are so easily panicked that the sudden arrival of a jumping jackrabbit can stampede an entire flock. There is only one thing that calms the spirits of disquieted sheep-- seeing their shepherd.

Likewise, in the Christian’s life there is no substitute for a keen awareness that our Shepherd is nearby, protecting us from harm. Only His presence can dispel our fear that there is something inherently harmful coming our way.  

Second, sheep will not lie down unless they are free from friction with other sheep. In every animal society there is an established order of dominance. In a pen of chickens it is called the “pecking order.” Among sheep it is the “butting order.” Whenever there is rivalry and competition for self-assertion, there is tension.

We aren’t much different. In every human organization, business, family, and community there are struggles for recognition and self-assertion. We want to influence decisions. We want the credit. We want to be recognized. Unfortunately, in that process jealousy arises and people get hurt.

Jesus, the Great Shepherd pointed out that the first shall be last and the last shall be first. He had great compassion for the poor, lepers, the incarcerated, and the meek in spirit. When we release our need to compete, and instead focus on His loving presence we learn to live contented and restful lives.

Third, if tormented by flies or parasites, sheep will not lie down. They cannot relax until they are free from the pests that irritate them.

In the summer sheep can be driven to absolute lunacy by bot flies, nasal flies, warble flies and ticks. They are on their feet, scratching and shaking their heads, ready to rush into the brush for a moment’s peace. It is the shepherd’s job to protect his flock from annoyances. He applies insect repellant. He dips them to rid their skin of ticks. He finds shelter where they can get escape their tormenters. He watches them, ever ready to intervene as needed.

Similarly, the Christian life is filled with irritants. It is the Holy Spirit that comes to us with the oil of protection and healing. When there’s an itch, He brings the balm. His presence is our relief.  

And finally, sheep will not lie down if they are hungry. Green pastures don’t just happen by chance. The Shepherd is skilled in land use. Before his sheep arrive he has cleared the rocky land, removed the dry brush, prepared the soil, planted the grass seed, irrigated, and cared for the tender grass that will eventually feed his sheep.

Our Shepherd does likewise for us. He removes the stones of disbelief, rips out the roots of despair, fertilizes the earth with His own blood, and sows seeds of grace for those who are in His flock. We should never underestimate the work that He does on our behalf and beyond our sight.

Perhaps this burst of February snow is a disguised opportunity for us to lie down and appreciate our Shepherd.