Have you ever seen a shepherd in living color? Near our home in Southern California several years ago, we would occasionally observe this rare phenomenon on grassy hillslopes of the San Gabriel Mountains. The sheep looked the part, except their wool coat didn't have that washed-in-Tide appearance. The shepherd wore boots, blue jeans, and a Texas straw hat. With a two-way transistor radio strapped to his belt, he could communicate to his wife that he'd be home by six.

Such a description is a far cry from David's model of the Twenty-Third Psalm. People don't talk about shepherds and sheep nowadays. They converse more in terms of the Dow average, synthetic fibers, and silicone chips. So we ask, "Why not throw such pastoral references to religion out the window?" They served their purpose in a rural economy. We're urban and require more sophisticated norms. Perhaps the following may suffice:

The Lord is my computer, I shall not want. 
It makes me to lie down on the analyst's chair;
It drugs me with penicillin and Demerol;
It takes me on a trip.
It leads me onto the interstate of the new morality for the sake of the Playboy philosophy.
Even though I jet through the asphalt canyon eighty miles an hour,I'll remain cool.
My cassette player is with me;
It's swinging sounds and newscasts, they comfort me.
It places me in a laboratory in the presence of my Master Card.
It programs my brain with data, my I.Q. goes bananas,
Surely, its creditors and high interest rates will hound me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the asylum, forever. 

Has God's work been mechanized by nuclear fission, heart transplants, and lunar orbits? Have we outdistanced God in a space age? If Mr. Technology thinks God has faded from the world, then what's going to happen when he's dying of cancer, when his wife leaves him, when he's wiped out by a financial loss? Will his computer flash him an instant solution, will his sedatives calm his tormented mind, will his fat bank account give him real happiness? 

The great truths of the Bible are as timeless as granite. They have weathered every conceivable attack. The hammer wears. The anvil stands. What greater formula for happiness can be found apart from the Beatitudes? Where is hope any brighter than in the fifteenth chapter of First Corinthians? Where is any description of Christ more significantly portrayed than in his role as shepherd? As of late, nothing can match that account. 

A converted Chinese Christian explained why he chose the Galilean. He selected Christ because Christ first chose him. He explained that he was sinking into a deep well with no way out. Along came Confucius and said, "If you had obeyed teaching you would not have landed where you are now." Next, Buddha came by and spoke to him. "Fold your arms and begin to think. Then you will find nirvana, the peace which all men desire." Finally, another man came by the well, a man full of goodness and compassion. He did not offer words of comfort above the well. Rather, he went down and pulled him out. "He dressed me in clean clothes and said, 'I will never leave you or forsake you.'" 

The promise of the Good Shepherd is uncompromising and lasting. He assures us he will not let us down even when the chips are down. It is his promise that he will lift us from our quagmire of sin and renew us by his power. At the funeral of Louis XIV, the cathedral was totally dark except for one candle resting on the casket top. The minister stood to address the citizens of France. As he arose he snuffed out the candle which had symbolized the greatness of the monarchy. Then from the darkness came four words, "Only God is great!" 

Today, this Great Shepherd extends his staff to our condition of aloneness and sin. He seeks to count us as his. "To what extent do we want to get up ... and be absorbed?" Or do we prefer to cradle our prejudices and material comforts? We must realize that Jesus paid the price for that power, for that love which is far more encompassing than all the armies that ever assembled. It didn't come at bargain basement prices. If you wish to be absorbed by his power, then you must pay a price, too. Of course, salvation cannot be bought over the counter. His death removed all hidden charges. The language of salvation is the language of love. Love communicates freely because we become its mouthpiece, and hands, and feet. In that sense, we pay our dues by giving his love its proper due toward hurting others. 

Michael Faraday, an early pioneer of electromagnetic current, once addressed a convocation of scientists. For an hour he held the audience spellbound with his lecture on the nature of the magnet. After he had finished, he received a thundering ovation. The Prince of Wales, later King Edward VII, stood to congratulate him. The applause thundered again. Just as quickly, a deadened silence pervaded the audience. Faraday had left. It was the hour of a mid-week prayer service in a little church of which he was a member. He stood up a king in order to spend an hour with the King of Kings. 

Do we have a similar commitment? Like Faraday, have we pledged our allegiances to a Power that outlasts the short-lived fads and governments of this world? With our families would we put into practice what the Wall Street Journal suggested a generation ago? "What America needs ... is a revival of piety - the piety of our fathers - that counted it good business to stop for daily family prayers before breakfast ... and to start work half an hour earlier on Thursday in order to get to prayer meeting on time!" 

To what level do we want to be absorbed by the Shepherd's power? Have we really been introduced to the Shepherd of life? Before making that decision, consider the following story. At a social gathering there was a distinguished actor and a retired minister. Asked to give a reading, the actor recited the Twenty-Third Psalm with such eloquence that a sense of awe pervaded the room. Then he invited the minister to recite the psalm. When he had finished, all eyes were filled with tears. He had spoken with tenderness and understanding. Turning to the minister the actor said, "I know the psalm but you, sir, know the Shepherd." 

Do we?