"The Lost Sheep"

Sermon by

Reverend Nancy Bouchard

December 14, 2008

In seminary we regularly unpacked scripture through a process we called bibliodrama. We imagined the story beyond what we read, filling in what we believed to be important, but missing, conversations and thoughts in the narrative. This exercise often opened doors that made the selected story more relevant and meaningful, especially from a Unitarian Universalist perspective. Through bibliodrama “The Lost Sheep” parable, evolved from a story abut Jesus saving lost sinners and rejoicing at the salvation and redemption of one, to a metaphor speaking to very different human behaviors Sometimes we are Shepherds and sometimes we are sheep.

The Shepherds watched over his flock day and night. As he settles in to rest on this evening, he knows the night will be long as winter approaches. The moon rises full, the stars burst forth in brilliance, a coolness fills the air, a reminder that it is the solstice.

As is his routine, he counts the sheep as they settle in. Sure he has made a mistake; he counts again, paying greater attention. There is an uneasiness as he realizes one is gone. He feels both conflict and panic as he searches the periphery of the pasture, seeing only darkness and its tricky shadows. Shall I leave my flock and wander into the night leaving them unattended? Will they know of my absence and grow fearful and restless? What of my missing sheep has it lost its way, has it escaped with intention, or is it lying dead somewhere attacked by a predator? Will I be safe while I’m on my search”?

The surface message of this story consistently assaulted my sensibility. I call it “Shepherdsness” Leaving ninety-nine to search for one? It didn’t make sense; and yet, the poem by Dickinson touches my senses and seems noble.

Indeed, probably most of us have known the passion and conviction of a journey focused on fulfilling the hearts yearning by saving at least one:

           “If I can stop one heart from breaking,
          I shall not live in vain;
          If I can ease one life the aching,
            Or cool one pain,
            Or help one fainting robin
            Unto his nest again,
            I shall not live in vain.”

But there have also been the days when I am not the Shepherd. When my yearning is not to reach out and wrestle with salvation of one. There are times when I am totally, in spirit and ideology, the sheep. I seek to be transformed in the silence of my own thoughts, away from the flock. There may be peril, yet so compelled by a need for emptiness that I wander anyway.

As a sheep, I want time to reflect on the journey I have traveled. I grow fearful that memories may be lost and my aspirations will be forgotten. I grow weary of life organized by the mountains to be climbed, the relationships to be nurtured, the emotional investments to be shared or protected or negotiated. I seek to give serious thought to the many things completed and the things left undone, the dreams and goals realized and the disappointing loose ends. I sometimes want to differentiate from the flock, to turn inward and find that place that embraces long nights, stare at a moon that brings me life, to the stars that light the way to a place of inspiration and mystery.

BUT, for most of us, tradition and our culture have imposed meaning on the roles of the Shepherds and the sheep, and our source of affirmation often comes from communal energy and participation. We devote much of our time to being together, to integrating the pace of life that surrounds us, framing our days and even our minutes by a system that ironically values the moral dilemma of the Shepherds as he faces the stress of his decision.

IT IS HARD TO BE A SHEEP!

In those times, when we dare, we venture dangerously close to the accusation of individualism, selfishness, isolation. For some, the time may not even present itself; such is the power of staying with the flock.

Today, are you a more a Shepherd or a sheep? Do you define your transformation in the context of the broken heart saved, the robin returned to its nest, rejoicing in finding the lost one? Or are you the sheep, seeking to find yourself, relieved to be in the quiet of the night. Like the parable, our own personal narratives often leave out a great deal of our different thoughts, different perspectives and the many voices that influence us.

We can all get into a compliant mode and stay content, or maybe it’s stuck We are locked into a way of thinking and being and in every sense that is being a lost sheep.. When you add voices of the silence to the parable, when you add the voice of the silence to your own existence, where does your story lead you?

As we come to year’s end, we take time to reflect on the past, time to sit quietly and understand both our Shepherd and our sheep, may to some seem intriguing. I would suggest to you it is essential.

But for any voice to be heard, there must be space, and there must be quiet, and there must be listening. The distractions must be shut out, be they family, friends, carting the children to soccer, the movies, worrying about health, money relationships, or the many other circumstances that invade our time and minds. Introspection requires sitting and being, wandering into the darkness and letting its veil gentle drape upon you. The preoccupied mind must rest in order that the heart reach out to the soul. And what better place than in this sanctuary of safety and love?

In the Hindu tradition, we begin with quiet and then with a mantra. A mantra can be a sound or an image that manifests stillness. It may be a simple word repeated, humming a tone or something visual, gentle breathing The mantra, hum or chanted does not have to be out loud. For those who find an image far more accessible, it may be a place, a scene a photo, art, nature, something restful.

So take a moment to consider a tone for your hum or your mantra or image, breathing. For those who can close their eyes, feel free to do so and let the darkness withdraw you from the presence of others and from the passions, emotions, senses, impulses and objects of the mind. Don’t worry or struggle as thoughts appear, simply return to your hum or your mantra, your image and be centered in the darkness. Let what enters the mind flow like water, fluid, gentle and vanishing. Let us sit in quietly and be the sheep.

In the words of Joyce Rupp:

“As I review the year, I look for what allows my life to receive greater meaning and what resists it; I ponder how and when hope has sung in my days. I wander through the months recalling who and what gave me strength and where enthusiasm ripened or died on the vine. I look for graced moments that I have totally forgotten…When I review my journal from the past year I often see that there’s a part of it filled with familiar melodies some delightful and others quite jarring...I rejoice that I missed more of the off-key notes ..[and] feel a sense of hope in spite of the reoccurring patterns. Underneath the circle of my year, I can always spot my life principles- themes and values that spur me to live my dreams and rekindle a positive attitude. So I rearrange my inner world a bit to make room for offering kindness to others… [.and to myself.]

Blessed Be, Shalom, Om Namah Shivia, Amen