It's been a few years
since he saw it... the angels, the wheels-within-wheels, the crystal
firmament, the blazing fire, the rainbow light, the rolling throne – the
throne that proved that God went into exile with his people so that
they could sing his songs even in a foreign land. And now the years
have passed. If Jerusalem isn't already fallen, it's on the verge of
falling. The bulk of the people have either already joined Ezekiel
in exile, or are in grave denial that they'll be on their way soon.
And now Ezekiel, a more
seasoned prophet than he once was, sits and meditates on just what
happened. He looks back over the long line of kings they've had
since David died – looks back on Solomon, who had such promising
wisdom but acted a bit like Pharaoh; looks back on Solomon's kid
Rehoboam, whose promise to be harsher drove the northern tribes away
under Jeroboam's rule; looks back on the string of northern kings of
Israel, none of whom were good; looks over a string of southern kings
of Judah, most of whom did evil in the sight of the LORD.
Ezekiel had been born in
the days of one of the few good eggs, Josiah, the faithful reformer.
But before him, there was his dad Amon, and his
dad Manasseh, and a whole line of terrors. And ever since?
Jehoahaz, and that puppet Jehoiakim, then Jehoiachin, and finally the
stupid puppet Zedekiah who's been running Jerusalem into the ground,
him and all his blasphemous priests and dreadful officials.
And
where does that leave the people of either house? Lost in the lurch,
with the agenda set by abusive, neglectful leaders whose example
leaves so much to be desired and who just don't do their jobs. As
Ezekiel thought about the people, running to and fro in their lives,
he thought about sheep lost in the desert, escaped from incompetent,
self-serving shepherds but now stranded and helpless.
Eureka!
The Word of God came to Ezekiel, expanding on the thoughts he was
thinking. That's exactly the problem that got them into this mess –
the kings of Israel and Judah, and the officials and priests even in
the recent days of Zedekiah's pitiful rebellion, were like shepherds
whom God had tasked with caring for his flock, a mixed flock of rams
and ewes and even some strong-willed goats for good measure.
But
the problem is, the shepherds were more concerned with feeding
themselves than with feeding the sheep. They've been living off
their rightful gain – clothing themselves in the sheeps' wool, God
says, and feeding themselves – but the sheep have been going unfed,
neglected (Ezekiel 34:2-3). What's more, they've been slaughtering
some of God's flock for their own meat, treating them as food to be
enjoyed at the shepherds' pleasure (Ezekiel 34:10).
And
did the shepherds keep order and justice within the flock as it
stood? Hardly – they let the stronger rams and the goats trample
down the fields, stomp mud through the water supply, and damage the
rest of the pasture even after they'd had their fill, leaving only
meager and defiled food and drink for the rest of the flock – and
the shepherds did little to nothing about it (Ezekiel 34:18-19).
And
they cared nothing for the health and life of the sheep: “The
weak you have not strengthened, the sick you have not healed, the
injured you have not bound up, the strayed you have not brought back,
the lost you have not sought, and with force and harshness you have
ruled them” (Ezekiel 34:4).
All the things any decent shepherd does for a flock, they failed to
do; and all the things a shepherd should never do with a flock, they
did.
And
in the process of this neglect, these lousy shepherds have put the
sheep in mortal danger: “They were scattered, because
there was no shepherd, and they became food for all the wild beasts.
My sheep were scattered; they wandered over all the mountains and on
every high hill. My sheep were scattered over all the face of the
earth, with none to search or seek for them. … Surely my sheep have
become a prey, and my sheep have become food for all the wild beasts,
since there was no shepherd”
(Ezekiel 34:5-6, 8). The sheep have been scattered – exiled to
Babylon and its lands. That was why Ezekiel was here – he was one
of those sheep, out in the wilderness because his shepherd was
selfish and incompetent. Centuries later, when Jesus said that those
who came before him were “thieves and robbers,”
shepherds like these are what he meant (John 10:8).
But
the sad truth is, it's not just a historical reality we read about in
the Books of the Kings and the Chronicles. We're familiar with bad
shepherding, aren't we? We're familiar with bad shepherding as a
nation. Look at the state of political leadership in recent years
and even now. Presidents, governors, legislators, judges – think
of them as shepherds. What kind of leadership are they providing?
Are they keeping the pasture clean for the rest of us to feed on?
Are they preventing the strong from traipsing their muddy feet
through the creeks? Are they acting in our interest, feeding us?
Are they bringing back the strayed, strengthening the week, tending
to the wounded, ruling with a gentle touch even while fending off
wild beasts on the attack? Are they bringing a sense of unity to the
flock? Are they setting a good example? For my part, I can't think
of too many who've had their day in office who quite fit that bill.
But
we know about bad shepherding in the home, in the family, too. Maybe
some of you grew up with one or both of the co-shepherds of your
household absent. Maybe a shepherd just abandoned you entirely.
Maybe a shepherd was weak, failing to fend off beasts, failing to
come look for you and guide you when you were lost. Maybe a shepherd
was unwise, failing to lead you to good pastures where you had enough
to get by. Maybe a shepherd was downright mean, cruel, vicious, more
concerned with feeding himself – or herself – than with tending
you when you were injured or imparting strength to you when you were
weak. Maybe the shepherd who was supposed to care for you even sated
his or her desires at your expense. And now that you've grown, now
that many of you have tended a little lamb or two or three of your
own, maybe some of you aren't sure that you shepherded well, either.
But
what's more, we know about bad shepherding in the church, too. Some
of you, I'm sure, could tell me some horror stories about things
you've seen. Maybe you've been part of a church flock where the
shepherd didn't lead you to the good pastures of the word of God.
Maybe they fed you instead on a mishmash of thin teaching, or even
the poison plants of false doctrine. Maybe they didn't defend you
well against wild beasts like that hissing serpent who came
whispering unhealthy notions in the ear of your heart. Or maybe they
took more than the wool for their wages – started living high off
the meat as well, hurting and exploiting the flock. Maybe they
neglected you when you were hurt, failed to ever come bind you up
when you were wounded by life's woes, failed to help you recuperate
while you were ill with grief or sin, failed to come seek you when
you were lost in life, failed to bring you back to a good pasture
again. Maybe you've seen a church setting where the shepherd didn't
lead in love, didn't bother to build you up from weakness to
strength.
Oh
yes – we have a sense of what Ezekiel meant. We have a sense of
what Ezekiel felt. Because in our own lives, we've become sadly
acquainted with what it looks like for a shepherd to fail – to be
unqualified and to put his own gain, his own wants, over the real
needs of the flock. And if that were all that this chapter says,
well, it would be a stirring and somber meditation on the injustice
of life. It would move us to tears, maybe. It would at least fill
us with a sense of melancholy. And we might just kick the dust and
mutter, “Well, ain't that life for you? That's just the way it
goes.”
But
this prophecy is filled with so much more. We live in a world where
Jesus Christ is risen! Amen? And because he lives, we have hope.
Because he lives, he offers us a new thing! Just look at what
Ezekiel shares with us – take a gander at this, check this out,
hear these words: “I myself
will be the shepherd of my sheep, and I myself
will make them lie down, declares the Lord GOD”
(Ezekiel 34:15).
Isn't
that good news? The God of heaven and earth, the God who built
mountains and carved valleys, the God of justice and mercy, looks at
the wreckage of mismanagement that the kings and priests have left
his chosen people, and he looks at the hurt and pain that you and I
have suffered at the hands of bad shepherds, and he says, “I myself
will be the shepherd” – he'll tend to us personally, tend to you
personally.
But
then he goes on to say, “I
will set up over them one shepherd, my servant David, and he shall
feed them – he shall feed them and be their shepherd. And I, the
LORD,
will be their God, and my servant David shall be prince among them.
I am the LORD;
I have spoken”
(Ezekiel 34:23-24). And when Ezekiel writes the name 'David' here,
you should understand he means the Greater David Who Was To Come: the
Messiah, the promised Son of David and David's Lord, who would be a
better shepherd even than the historical David was. Jesus tells us
flat out that he's the one Ezekiel meant: “I
am the good shepherd. I know my own, and my own know me, just as the
Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for the
sheep”
(John 10:14-15).
God
will shepherd us personally, but Jesus will be our Shepherd – you
can't separate the two, can't drive a wedge between them. And this
is no failed shepherding here – Jesus, through whom God shepherds
us, is the Good Shepherd – he's able, he's competent, he's no fool
like the thieves and robbers who came before him; and he's good in
the sense of being unfathomably good to his flock. We catch a
glimpse of his shepherding style in the Psalms, where he wields an
iron rod to keep us in line and maintain our defense (Psalm 2:9), but
also in the words of Isaiah, where we read, “He
will tend his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his
arms; he will carry them in his bosom, and gently lead those that are
with young”
(Isaiah 40:11). Strong and nurturing – that's the Jesus I know.
Do you know him, too?
What's
more, God our Shepherd tells us, through the Prophet Ezekiel, that he
won't be content to leave his flock scattered over all the mountains
and on every high hill, over all the face of the earth. He would
come and take them back from their exile: “Behold,
I, I myself
will search for my sheep and will seek them out. As a shepherd seeks
out his flock when he is among his sheep that have been scattered, so
will I seek out my sheep, and I will rescue them from all places
where they have been scattered on a day of clouds and thick darkness.
And I will bring them out from the peoples and gather them from the
countries, and will bring them into their own land. And I will feed
them on the mountains of Israel, by the ravines, and in all the
inhabited places of the country. … I will seek the lost, and I will
bring back the strayed, and I will bind up the injured, and I will
strengthen the weak, and the fat and the strong I will destroy
[or, 'watch over'].
I will feed them with justice”
(Ezekiel 34:11-16). And as a fact of history, God did seek out his
people who were scattered in the provinces of Babylon's rule – he
did bring them back to their own land – but under the thumb of the
Persians, the Greeks, and the Romans, things didn't turn out so rosy.
There must be something more.
But
we know that God's message isn't just for Ezekiel's band of refugees.
It's for us, too. If we're God's flock, he won't be content to let
us scatter. Jesus, through whom he shepherds us, will seek the lost
and bring back the strayed. Jesus told us that himself – remember?
“What man of
you, having a hundred sheep, if he has lost one of them, doesn't
leave the ninety-nine in open country, and go after the one that is
lost, until he finds it? And when he has found it, he lays it on his
shoulders, rejoicing”
(Luke 15:4-5). “The
Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost”
(Luke 19:10).
When
you're lost in your sin, he comes looking for you! When you're lost
in life and unsure where to turn, he comes looking for you! Stop
running and watch for his approach; let him lift you on his shoulders
and carry you in your time of need. When you're injured, he'll bind
you up; when you're weak and don't know how you can make it, he'll
lend you strength. He's the Shepherd who seeks the lost and brings
back the strayed.
What's
more, God our Shepherd tells us, through the Prophet Ezekiel, that he
will judge between the different elements in his mixed flock: “As
for you, my flock, thus says the Lord GOD:
Behold, I judge between sheep and sheep, between rams and male goats.
… Behold, I, I myself will judge between the fat sheep and the lean
sheep. Because you push with side and shoulder, and thrust at all
the weak with your horns, till you have scattered them abroad, I will
rescue my flock; they shall no longer be a prey. And I will judge
between sheep and sheep”
(Ezekiel 34:17-22).
In
the writings of the prophets, community leaders within Israel, the
relatively powerful, were often nicknamed 'rams' or 'goats' –
animals that are strong-willed, that have leadership potential within
a flock, but also have a tendency to disobey, to push the rest of the
flock around, and to trample carelessly over the whole pasture. But
God says he'll come to the defense of the weak. God says he'll come
to the defense of the lean, those who haven't gotten enough to eat,
who never seem to get first dibs.
Is
that you? Then this is good news. God our Shepherd will hold
accountable those in his flock who've pushed you around, or who've
eaten up more of the blessings that were meant for you. And Jesus,
through whom God shepherds us, told us that when he returned in glory
with his angels, he'd sit on a throne of judgment over his mixed
flock of all nations, “and
he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the
sheep from the goats. And he will place the sheep on his right, but
the goats on the left”
(Matthew 25:31-33).
To
the goats, who hoarded the resources of God to themselves rather than
leave abundance for the lean and the weak, he'll render punishment
alongside the devil (Matthew 25:41-45). But to the sheep, most
especially the sheep who lived peacefully with other sheep, who
shared the resources of God by consuming only what they needed and
being kind to the lean and the weak, the Shepherd on the Throne will
welcome them into everlasting pastures that grow without end (Matthew
25:34-40).
And
what's more, God – through the One Shepherd, Jesus, who solves the
problem of a whole line of many bad shepherds who came before him
like thieves and robbers – will tend his flock with incomparable
love, care, and blessing. Pay close attention to some of the words,
some of the ways Ezekiel portrays what's coming, what we have access
to. “I will
feed them with good pasture”
(Ezekiel 34:14). God will not let us stay forever in desert lands,
where the growth of life is hard to come by. No, God will feed us
with all we need. “I
will bind up the injured, and I will strengthen the weak, … I will
feed them with justice”
(Ezekiel 34:16). We will have God's tender care, directly,
personally.
“I
will … banish wild beasts from the land, so that they may dwell
securely in the wilderness and sleep in the woods. … They shall no
more be a prey to the nations, nor shall the beasts of the land
devour them. They shall dwell securely, and none shall make them
afraid”
(Ezekiel 34:25, 28). What an image of safety! There will come a day
when you won't be downtrodden any more. There will come a day when
you won't be in danger any more. Even in the night forests, you can
sleep in safety. Physically, financially, emotionally, we'll be
there some day. Spiritually, when we're in our Shepherd's presence,
we're already living that life. He says that he'll make us “lie
down in good grazing land”
(Ezekiel 34:14; cf. Psalm 23:2) – when we come to Jesus, he'll give
us rest (Matthew 11:28).
And
God goes on to say, “I
will make them and the places all around my hill a blessing, and I
will send down the showers in their season; they shall be showers of
blessing. And the trees of the field shall yield their fruit, and
the earth shall yield its increase, and they shall be secure in their
land”
(Ezekiel 34:26-27). Doesn't that sound beautiful – showers of
blessing, bountiful fields, fruited trees, and everywhere around a
safe haven and blessing? That's in store for us, but spiritually,
when we're in our Shepherd's presence, his showers of blessing are
already falling down on our souls.
God
sums all these things up with this phrase: “I
will make with them a covenant of peace”
(Ezekiel 34:25). All these things are covenant-of-peace things –
they're the promises of a covenant better than the old one, more
powerful, more unbreakable. Without a covenant of peace, an
agreement between the Shepherd and his sheep, we'd never have this.
We'd never know rich pastures. We'd never see tender care. We'd
never dwell in safety. We'd never feel showers of blessing come
rushing down on us. Because we'd be scattered and lost and alone –
without the covenant of peace.
And
the covenant of peace is the new covenant – the one Jesus called,
“the new
covenant in my blood”
(Luke 22:20). Without the sacrifice, there'd be no covenant of
peace. The covenant of peace couldn't begin until the Shepherd had
laid down his life for his sheep (John 10:11). Showers of blessing
couldn't come 'til the cry from the cross tore the sky. Rich
pastures weren't open 'til he gave his broken body for us to graze
on. Healing was a lie 'til he bore the suffering – “the
punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his stripes we
are healed,” we
the sheep who had “gone
astray” and
“turned, every one, to his own way”
(Isaiah 53:5-6).
But
if the Shepherd stayed in the grave, we'd still be scattered with no
one to seek us. If the Shepherd stayed in the grave, we'd be sheep
without a shepherd. So this Shepherd laid down his life for his
sheep – but he lives again to lead his flock. The Shepherd is
risen! And because the Shepherd is risen, he can say to us, “You
are my sheep, human sheep of my pasture, and I am your God”
(Ezekiel 34:31), “our
great God and Savior, Jesus Christ”
(Titus 2:13).
So
maybe we've seen bad shepherding in our nation, in our homes, in our
churches. But God's judgment against bad shepherds is already
passed, and the Good Shepherd is alive and well! He's alive to seek,
alive to heal, alive to feed, alive to bless; and even if he leads us
through shady valleys on the way to the “something more” awaiting
us in the pasture-land of the kingdom, he's got a hefty rod of
justice and a guiding staff of wisdom in his hands, and that's all
the comfort we need (cf. Psalm 23:4). He banishes beasts by
resurrection might! And he's gone ahead of us to make ready the
“renowned
plantations”
whereof the prophet spake (Ezekiel 34:29).
Each
of us, each of you, can say, “The
LORD
[Jesus] is my Shepherd … He restores my soul”
(Psalm 23:1-3a). So when you're lost, when you're hurting, when
you're weak and facing wolves, when the stream is dirty and the goats
are uppity and you hunger and thirst for more – don't lose hope...
and don't scatter away from a Shepherd as good
as this. For his name's sake, follow the Good Shepherd's guidance
wherever his paths of righteousness may lead (Psalm 23:3b). Amen.
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