Shepherding Hearts
Anna Marie Rennison, one of the discussion list members, gave a beautiful illustration in response to a question about parenting. As Christians, we know that God requires us to discipline (shepherd) our children, but it is not always easy to understand how to do it within a gentle and respectful ethos. Sometimes Christians are concerned that they would not be able to unschool their children without compromising on God’s principles of training and correction. I hope to encourage parents that there are indeed gentle and respectful ways of doing this that are in harmony with the principles of both Scripture and unschooling. It is because Anna Marie gives such a strong picture of gentle shepherding in action that the principles come alive so well. I thought it would be a welcome addition to the material on this site. She writes:
As a single Mum raising two girls, and seeking to parent them in a Godly way, I find that my experiences of living for five years in Eastern Andalucia have influenced me greatly. Intent observation of Spanish country life began when my old neighbour pointed a crooked finger at me one day and said through his sun-crinkled lips: “The village, the farming, the goats, the olives and the land; this place hasn’t changed for 2000 years!” From then on, I drank deeply of a way of life that still remained from a time when, on the other side of the Mediterranean Sea, Jesus Christ lived the very same way of life - and used it to teach His first disciples.
When I need a reminder to encourage me in this long walk of shepherding my two growing lambs, the Holy Spirit calls to mind the goat herders of that valley where agriculture and farming were almost identical to that of Biblical lands and times. It seemed that God spoke so clearly to me about His Shepherding methods through these memories.
I remember two shepherds in particular:
Anita was like a movie star, so beautiful, so perfectly presented and so calm and serene amongst 150 goats and many more flies. She stood without a single fly bothering her whilst I flipped and flapped and wafted them away to no avail; I wonder why she didn’t confide in me the secrets of her super-strength insect repellent! She seemed to have a natural authority that even they, the pests, respected.
Angelica, on the other hand, had a small flock of around 15 goats, but she was more anxious, usually hurried, and somewhat flustered with her flock – and this was reflected in the behaviour of both her sheepdogs, and her goats.
I spent time, especially in the early days of my arrival in the hamlet, walking with these shepherds, following their flocks. There was a marked difference in the way the two of them shepherded. Although Anita had a flock tenfold the size of Angelica’s, the way in which she shepherded them was calm and controlled. Her sheepdogs were highly trained and extremely obedient, accurate to a fraction of a second, and the result was evident in the behaviour of her flock. They too were calm and controlled, unperturbed by passing strangers, comfortable in the realm in which they walked, and secure in the familiarity of the instruction of the Shepherd and her dogs. Looking back, I am reminded of verses from Psalm 23, particularly verse 4: “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; For You are with me; Your rod and Your staff they comfort me”.
Angelica, on the other hand, lacked Anita’s calm authority. She used vocal instruction far more often. Her dogs seemed to do the job their own way a lot of the time, and she had to spend time correcting them as well as her flock. They were all rather unpredictable around unexpected people or vehicles, adding an added anxiety for their shepherd. Consequently Angelica raised her voice more often, tapped her rod more, and had to hurry behind a rather anxious, rushing flock that could be known to dash off in different directions. And they, being more accustomed to harsh instructions when a problem arose, often failed to respond to gentle direction.
I am challenged by my memories. Parenting can feel so fraught and anxiety provoking at times, even at the most unexpected moments. The mother I aim to be and the mother I so often find myself being were displayed before me in these two unique women. As I thought about the differences between the two shepherds - and between their flocks - I found myself wondering about the purpose of the rod, mindful of the references in Scripture which mention its use.
He who spares his rod hates his son, but he who loves him disciplines him promptly. (Proverbs 13: 24)
Do not withhold correction from a child, for if you beat him with a rod, he will not die. You shall beat him with a rod, and deliver his soul from hell. (Proverbs 23: 13 – 14)
Foolishness is bound up in the heart of a child; the rod of correction will drive it far from him. (Proverbs 22: 15)
I searched the Scriptures to find out if ‘rod’ meant a rod to actually strike with, and much to my disappointment at the time, I found that it did mean that.
How was I to reconcile this with my knowledge that I’d been filled with a love from God that had released me to be a gentle, caring, and loving mother?
As the Holy Spirit reminded me of the shepherds in the Valley of Olives where I had lived and their use of the rod, I came to understand that, although the rod is used to strike, this is not the primary nor even the secondary use of the rod in shepherding - and that this infrequency of use ought to be reflected in our use of it in disciplining, steering and teaching our children.It is true to say that the rod was used to touch the herd and when necessary, to sharply discipline an animal. More often than not however, when in direct contact, it was employed in a familiar, comforting and directional sense as if to say: "Not that way, but this…" The degree to which the goats pushed against the rod and her instructions determined the firmness of the shepherd’s response – and the extent to which it was necessary to exercise her authority.
It is very interesting to note that over a period of five years I only ever saw a goat struck by the shepherd’s rod once - and it was because that goat was, at that moment, "RIGHT OUT OF ORDER!!!!", charging along heedlessly, causing disruption of the flock and a potential hazard as they moved toward nearby people. Most commonly, the rod was used on the ground without contact with the animal to say: "This way!"
It was used to tap out the boundaries: The sound of the rod on the path and the sound of the shepherd's voice kept the flock on the right path and within the boundary of the path. (If she was tapping a lot it was because they needed more instruction.)
It was used to steer the flock: The shepherds would gently push against the herd - or against an individual goat - with the rod to get them moving back in the right direction. This was rather like when we walk behind our young children and, as they go a little to the left or right, use our extended arms to gently steer them back onto the right path (sometimes with a gentle instruction). In this way, the rod was used as an extension of the shepherd’s arm.
It was used to indicate a desired direction: I saw the shepherd scrape the rod along the ground, extended out forwards and to one side or the other depending on where she wanted the flock to go. Pointing, but with a sound they recognised too, as if to say: "This way!" Often this instruction was first recognised by the sheep-dogs - who would then work to get the flock headed in the right direction.Interestingly also, the shepherd's voice was used carefully; they did not shout at the animals in anger.
I am reminded of the Shepherding influence of God: Your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, “This is the way, walk in it,” Whenever you turn to the right hand or whenever you turn to the left… (Isaiah 30:21)
I have spent a lot of time thinking over another aspect of this illustration recently, namely the paths along which the flock were led. Here in more urban areas we are used to well-defined paths with clear boundaries between pavement, kerb and tarmac. We need rather to picture mountain tracks, where the definition between on-track and off-track is more flexible. There the gravel meets the grass in a more of a graduation. On goat-tracks the distinction between gravel and grass is even less clear. Actually, grass is quite a rare thing in the Andalucía desert! We did have borage and oregano, thyme and lavender, for a few months of the year at least. These poorly defined path boundaries remind me that boundaries of behaviour are not absolute, and that they change with the seasons.
So I like to think of these few centimetres of ‘gravel-meets-grass’ as the GRACE part of the track. As I teach my children to listen to my voice, and to respond to my gentle discipline, the voice and the discipline do not change. However, the boundaries of the paths we walk may well change. The boundaries of behaviour are edged with grace. This edge is where trust, love, patience and grace are demanded from the shepherd; any harsh or rash striking of the sheep could frighten him, driving him away from the flock and perhaps even causing him to be lost. In such a dry environment, the shepherd had to work very hard to lead the flock to food and water. This was not a job where she could take a day off, or give up and go home early. Great patience, strength and energy was needed every day. In the lower valleys the flocks walked in and amongst agricultural land which was often planted withprecious and vulnerable crops. It was essential that the shepherd keep the goats off the planted areas. And yet the shepherds had the right to take their flock on any land. Grazing rights were theirs and they often had to walk long distances across others' land to get their flock suitably fed and brought home again. This was a responsibility that was ALWAYS fulfilled by the shepherd; they never permitted the goats to abuse their privilege.
The shepherds were consistent, using patterns and habits to avoid either confusion or a breakdown of trust in the flock. However, this was not rigid; the routines would be interspersed with changes and adjustments depending on where there was good grazing in a particular season.
As we endeavour to raise our children in and amongst the busy demands of life we can become so systematic with our ways that we forget the ebb and flow that was demanded by the uncertainties of nature and season in past Mediterranean times. The people I grew so fond of were used to being flexible and adaptable, they were used to having path edges that moved slightly but not considerably and their trust needed to be outside of themselves. They lived in harmony with their world.
I try to be consistent in my parenting, letting my ‘yes’ be ‘yes’ and my ‘no’ be ‘no’, knowing that changing directions with my girls would cause confusion. But I also have to have grassy edges to my paths. We are a family, not a regime.
In seeking to show my daughters how to walk on the paths of righteousness, the last thing I want to do is to harden their hearts toward me, and ultimately towards their Great Shepherd, the Lord of all. The result of this flexible approach to the use of the rod is, I feel, shown in two girls who seem to have a reasonably strong sense of our chosen direction even when not being directed by me, and who also know that if they make a mistake, it’s ‘ok’; they have the space, chance and guidance to get back on track.
Proverbs 22: 6: Train up a child in the way he should go, And when he is old he will not depart from it.
Anna Marie Rennison (2011)
As a single Mum raising two girls, and seeking to parent them in a Godly way, I find that my experiences of living for five years in Eastern Andalucia have influenced me greatly. Intent observation of Spanish country life began when my old neighbour pointed a crooked finger at me one day and said through his sun-crinkled lips: “The village, the farming, the goats, the olives and the land; this place hasn’t changed for 2000 years!” From then on, I drank deeply of a way of life that still remained from a time when, on the other side of the Mediterranean Sea, Jesus Christ lived the very same way of life - and used it to teach His first disciples.
When I need a reminder to encourage me in this long walk of shepherding my two growing lambs, the Holy Spirit calls to mind the goat herders of that valley where agriculture and farming were almost identical to that of Biblical lands and times. It seemed that God spoke so clearly to me about His Shepherding methods through these memories.
I remember two shepherds in particular:
Anita was like a movie star, so beautiful, so perfectly presented and so calm and serene amongst 150 goats and many more flies. She stood without a single fly bothering her whilst I flipped and flapped and wafted them away to no avail; I wonder why she didn’t confide in me the secrets of her super-strength insect repellent! She seemed to have a natural authority that even they, the pests, respected.
Angelica, on the other hand, had a small flock of around 15 goats, but she was more anxious, usually hurried, and somewhat flustered with her flock – and this was reflected in the behaviour of both her sheepdogs, and her goats.
I spent time, especially in the early days of my arrival in the hamlet, walking with these shepherds, following their flocks. There was a marked difference in the way the two of them shepherded. Although Anita had a flock tenfold the size of Angelica’s, the way in which she shepherded them was calm and controlled. Her sheepdogs were highly trained and extremely obedient, accurate to a fraction of a second, and the result was evident in the behaviour of her flock. They too were calm and controlled, unperturbed by passing strangers, comfortable in the realm in which they walked, and secure in the familiarity of the instruction of the Shepherd and her dogs. Looking back, I am reminded of verses from Psalm 23, particularly verse 4: “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; For You are with me; Your rod and Your staff they comfort me”.
Angelica, on the other hand, lacked Anita’s calm authority. She used vocal instruction far more often. Her dogs seemed to do the job their own way a lot of the time, and she had to spend time correcting them as well as her flock. They were all rather unpredictable around unexpected people or vehicles, adding an added anxiety for their shepherd. Consequently Angelica raised her voice more often, tapped her rod more, and had to hurry behind a rather anxious, rushing flock that could be known to dash off in different directions. And they, being more accustomed to harsh instructions when a problem arose, often failed to respond to gentle direction.
I am challenged by my memories. Parenting can feel so fraught and anxiety provoking at times, even at the most unexpected moments. The mother I aim to be and the mother I so often find myself being were displayed before me in these two unique women. As I thought about the differences between the two shepherds - and between their flocks - I found myself wondering about the purpose of the rod, mindful of the references in Scripture which mention its use.
He who spares his rod hates his son, but he who loves him disciplines him promptly. (Proverbs 13: 24)
Do not withhold correction from a child, for if you beat him with a rod, he will not die. You shall beat him with a rod, and deliver his soul from hell. (Proverbs 23: 13 – 14)
Foolishness is bound up in the heart of a child; the rod of correction will drive it far from him. (Proverbs 22: 15)
I searched the Scriptures to find out if ‘rod’ meant a rod to actually strike with, and much to my disappointment at the time, I found that it did mean that.
How was I to reconcile this with my knowledge that I’d been filled with a love from God that had released me to be a gentle, caring, and loving mother?
As the Holy Spirit reminded me of the shepherds in the Valley of Olives where I had lived and their use of the rod, I came to understand that, although the rod is used to strike, this is not the primary nor even the secondary use of the rod in shepherding - and that this infrequency of use ought to be reflected in our use of it in disciplining, steering and teaching our children.It is true to say that the rod was used to touch the herd and when necessary, to sharply discipline an animal. More often than not however, when in direct contact, it was employed in a familiar, comforting and directional sense as if to say: "Not that way, but this…" The degree to which the goats pushed against the rod and her instructions determined the firmness of the shepherd’s response – and the extent to which it was necessary to exercise her authority.
It is very interesting to note that over a period of five years I only ever saw a goat struck by the shepherd’s rod once - and it was because that goat was, at that moment, "RIGHT OUT OF ORDER!!!!", charging along heedlessly, causing disruption of the flock and a potential hazard as they moved toward nearby people. Most commonly, the rod was used on the ground without contact with the animal to say: "This way!"
It was used to tap out the boundaries: The sound of the rod on the path and the sound of the shepherd's voice kept the flock on the right path and within the boundary of the path. (If she was tapping a lot it was because they needed more instruction.)
It was used to steer the flock: The shepherds would gently push against the herd - or against an individual goat - with the rod to get them moving back in the right direction. This was rather like when we walk behind our young children and, as they go a little to the left or right, use our extended arms to gently steer them back onto the right path (sometimes with a gentle instruction). In this way, the rod was used as an extension of the shepherd’s arm.
It was used to indicate a desired direction: I saw the shepherd scrape the rod along the ground, extended out forwards and to one side or the other depending on where she wanted the flock to go. Pointing, but with a sound they recognised too, as if to say: "This way!" Often this instruction was first recognised by the sheep-dogs - who would then work to get the flock headed in the right direction.Interestingly also, the shepherd's voice was used carefully; they did not shout at the animals in anger.
I am reminded of the Shepherding influence of God: Your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, “This is the way, walk in it,” Whenever you turn to the right hand or whenever you turn to the left… (Isaiah 30:21)
I have spent a lot of time thinking over another aspect of this illustration recently, namely the paths along which the flock were led. Here in more urban areas we are used to well-defined paths with clear boundaries between pavement, kerb and tarmac. We need rather to picture mountain tracks, where the definition between on-track and off-track is more flexible. There the gravel meets the grass in a more of a graduation. On goat-tracks the distinction between gravel and grass is even less clear. Actually, grass is quite a rare thing in the Andalucía desert! We did have borage and oregano, thyme and lavender, for a few months of the year at least. These poorly defined path boundaries remind me that boundaries of behaviour are not absolute, and that they change with the seasons.
So I like to think of these few centimetres of ‘gravel-meets-grass’ as the GRACE part of the track. As I teach my children to listen to my voice, and to respond to my gentle discipline, the voice and the discipline do not change. However, the boundaries of the paths we walk may well change. The boundaries of behaviour are edged with grace. This edge is where trust, love, patience and grace are demanded from the shepherd; any harsh or rash striking of the sheep could frighten him, driving him away from the flock and perhaps even causing him to be lost. In such a dry environment, the shepherd had to work very hard to lead the flock to food and water. This was not a job where she could take a day off, or give up and go home early. Great patience, strength and energy was needed every day. In the lower valleys the flocks walked in and amongst agricultural land which was often planted withprecious and vulnerable crops. It was essential that the shepherd keep the goats off the planted areas. And yet the shepherds had the right to take their flock on any land. Grazing rights were theirs and they often had to walk long distances across others' land to get their flock suitably fed and brought home again. This was a responsibility that was ALWAYS fulfilled by the shepherd; they never permitted the goats to abuse their privilege.
The shepherds were consistent, using patterns and habits to avoid either confusion or a breakdown of trust in the flock. However, this was not rigid; the routines would be interspersed with changes and adjustments depending on where there was good grazing in a particular season.
As we endeavour to raise our children in and amongst the busy demands of life we can become so systematic with our ways that we forget the ebb and flow that was demanded by the uncertainties of nature and season in past Mediterranean times. The people I grew so fond of were used to being flexible and adaptable, they were used to having path edges that moved slightly but not considerably and their trust needed to be outside of themselves. They lived in harmony with their world.
I try to be consistent in my parenting, letting my ‘yes’ be ‘yes’ and my ‘no’ be ‘no’, knowing that changing directions with my girls would cause confusion. But I also have to have grassy edges to my paths. We are a family, not a regime.
In seeking to show my daughters how to walk on the paths of righteousness, the last thing I want to do is to harden their hearts toward me, and ultimately towards their Great Shepherd, the Lord of all. The result of this flexible approach to the use of the rod is, I feel, shown in two girls who seem to have a reasonably strong sense of our chosen direction even when not being directed by me, and who also know that if they make a mistake, it’s ‘ok’; they have the space, chance and guidance to get back on track.
Proverbs 22: 6: Train up a child in the way he should go, And when he is old he will not depart from it.
Anna Marie Rennison (2011)