Phillip Keller, in his interesting book A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23, describes a danger that is unique to sheep. Shepherds call it “cast down” or simply “cast.” It has to do with a sheep that cannot regain its feet. Keller writes:

… even the largest, fattest, strongest and sometimes healthiest sheep can become “cast” and be a casualty. The way it happens is this. A heavy, fat, or long-fleeced sheep will lie down comfortably in some little hollow or depression in the ground. It may roll on its side slightly to stretch out or relax. Suddenly the center of gravity in the body shifts so that it turns on its back far enough that the feet no longer touch the ground. It may feel a sense of panic and start to paw frantically. Frequently this only makes things worse. It rolls over even further. Now it is quite impossible for it to regain its feet.

Keller then continues to discuss some problems that are unique to sheep. The overall thrust of his book is how utterly helpless sheep are!

THERE is no better-loved picture of Jesus than the good shepherd. The picture of the shepherd is woven into the language and imagery of the Bible. It could not be otherwise. The main part of Judaea was a central plateau, stretching from Bethel to Hebron for a distance of about thirty-five miles and varying from fourteen to seventeen miles across. The ground, for the most part, was rough and stony. Judaea was much more a pastoral than an agricultural country, and it was, therefore, inevitable that the most familiar figure of the Judaean uplands was the shepherd.

His life was very hard. No flock ever grazed without a shepherd, and he was never off duty. There being little grass, the sheep were bound to wander; and since there were no protecting walls, the sheep had constantly to be watched.

35 And Jesus went throughout all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom and healing every disease and every affliction. 36 When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. 37 Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; 38 therefore pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.”

“Truly, truly, I say to you, he who does not enter the sheepfold by the door but climbs in by another way, that man is a thief and a robber. 2 But he who enters by the door is the shepherd of the sheep. 3 To him the gatekeeper opens. The sheep hear his voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. 4 When he has brought out all his own, he goes before them, and the sheep follow him, for they know his voice. 5 A stranger they will not follow, but they will flee from him, for they do not know the voice of strangers.” 6 This figure of speech Jesus used with them, but they did not understand what he was saying to them.

7 So Jesus again said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, I am the door of the sheep. 8 All who came before me are thieves and robbers, but the sheep did not listen to them. 9 I am the door. If anyone enters by me, he will be saved and will go in and out and find pasture. 10 The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly. 11 I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. 12 He who is a hired hand and not a shepherd, who does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and flees, and the wolf snatches them and scatters them. 13 He flees because he is a hired hand and cares nothing for the sheep. 14 I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, 15 just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for the sheep. 16 And I have other sheep that are not of this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd. 17 For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life that I may take it up again. 18 No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down, and I have authority to take it up again. This charge I have received from my Father.”

19 There was again a division among the Jews because of these words. 20 Many of them said, “He has a demon, and is insane; why listen to him?” 21 Others said, “These are not the words of one who is oppressed by a demon. Can a demon open the eyes of the blind?”

the shepherd’s relationship to his sheep is one of familiarity.

In verse 3 Jesus said that the sheep hear or “listen to” his voice. The idea is familiarity. Sometimes travelers to the Middle East have been known to pay a shepherd to exchange clothes with them and then try to call the sheep, but the sheep do not come because the sheep only obey the voice they know. Even though sheep may be stupid, they know their master’s voice. Jesus also said in verse 3 that he “calls his own sheep by name.”

Palestinian shepherds named their sheep according to their characteristics. One might be called Long Nose or Black Ear or Fluffy. This shows how much our Lord cares for us. He calls us by our own characteristics, and we hear his voice and follow him.

14 I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, 15 just as the Father knows me and I know the Father;

My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. (Psalm 139:15–16)

Just as in the Old Testament picture, the leaders of the Church are the shepherds and the people are the flock. It is the duty of the leader to feed the flock of God, to accept the oversight willingly and not by constraint, to do it eagerly and not for love of money, not to use the position for the exercise of power and to be an example to the flock (1 Peter 5:2–3). Paul urges the elders of Ephesus to take heed to all the flock over which the Holy Spirit had made them overseers (Acts 20:28). It is Jesus’ last command to Peter that he should feed his lambs and his sheep (John 21:15–19). The very word pastor (Ephesians 4:11) is the Latin word for shepherd.

He knows our past with its failures, its hurts.

He knows our present, our unrealized longings.

He knows our idiosyncrasies.

He knows our past with its failures, its hurts.

It is quite possible he affectionately calls us “Grumpy” or “Fearful” or “Faithless,” just as we might talk to our sheep if we were shepherds.

He knows our present, our unrealized longings.

The Lord adds in verse 4, “When he has brought out all his own, he goes on ahead of them, and his sheep follow him because they know his voice.” If you are outside the fold, the shepherd offers you an eternal relationship of peace and joy, a relationship modeled on that between the Father and the Son, a relationship that satisfies. If you are one of his sheep, that relationship is the foundational reality of your existence. If we are believers, we have such a relationship and must appropriate its benefits.

H. V. Morton tells of a scene that he saw in a cave near Bethlehem. Two shepherds had sheltered their flocks in the cave during the night. How were the flocks to be sorted out? One of the shepherds stood some distance away and gave his peculiar call which only his own sheep knew, and soon his whole flock had run to him, because they knew his voice. They would have come for no one else, but they knew the call of their own shepherd. An eighteenth-century traveller actually tells how Palestinian sheep could be made to dance, quick or slow, to the peculiar whistle or the peculiar tune on the flute of their own shepherd.

Every detail of the shepherd’s life lights up the picture of the good shepherd whose sheep hear his voice and whose constant care is for his flock.

He knows our idiosyncrasies.