I am the Good Shepherd and I know My sheep and am known by My own” (Jn. 10:14).
As far as shepherding is concerned, knowledge of the sheep is fundamental. The word “know” (ginsko) pertains to an understanding that is gained through experience and is the kind of familiarity born out of mutual struggle. I recall when a younger brother and I labored together in a week of gospel work. We forged a bond that superseded other friendships, for we learned of each other strengths and perseverance in the heat of spiritual battle. I am now able to predict many of the decisions and movements of my fellow soldier as a result of the firsthand insight gained from observing the patterns of his behavior. But while I might somewhat reliably predict my brother’s thoughts and actions, the Lord has omniscient anticipation of our doings.
The Saviour’s comprehension of His sheep is further expanded with His statement: “…and the sheep hear His voice and He calls them by name” (v. 3). The Lord’s familiarity has roots that extend to the intensive study of each individual sheep. Due to His flawless insight, the Shepherd formulates a name that bespeaks the sheep’s peculiar personality. The same is practiced by all animal owners: shepherds with their livestock, ranchers with their horses, and homeowners with their pets. How enlightening to appreciate the exhaustive study required of the owner. Indeed, the Lord hints that His depth of understanding of the flock parallels His intimacy with the Father: “As the Father knows Me, even so I know the Father and lay down My life…” (Jn. 10:15).
We must pause to ask a probing question: Do we possess an extensive knowledge of the sheep in our folds? Are we merely satisfied with their presence, or will we expend ourselves in the effort required to truly know a person? Such knowledge might be bewildering for we may discover an individual’s profession to be merely that—a profession and not a possession of Christ. Indeed, we may uncover more problems to bear and more trials to endure, but this never prohibited our Saviour from knowing us, His sheep.
If the principle of knowing the sheep seems formidable, being “known by the sheep” is likewise an involved process. Jesus states: “…and the sheep hear His voice…and He brings them out…for they know His voice” (vv. 3-4). A soothing quality characterizes the shepherd’s voice, for the sheep have learned to associate His voice with calm and provision. It is my understanding that sheep stir quite actively as they hear the early morning whistle of the shepherd approaching the fold. Over time they have associated His voice with gentle and tender care. This same voice is also heard when they have gone astray and need rescuing, when they require painful medical therapy, and when they are in danger from the predator. Their shepherd’s voice bursts with compassion. No wonder the sheep are anxious to follow such sounds. No wonder the sheep do not follow strange voices. Visitors to a fold are surprised when the sheep do not shadow them, even if they mimic the shepherd’s words and inflection. The reason for their wariness is simple: No years of care have been established with the visitor’s voice.
The under-shepherd, therefore, must cultivate the same atmosphere with his voice and presence. We must judiciously guard our own words and their mode of expression to instill a sense of confidence and peace in the sheep. Saints have frequently expressed that they were never visited by the elders until there a problem. Unfortunately, such visits have often not been prepared for by simple visits of love and concern, and an adverse reaction becomes far more likely. Let us devote the time required so that sheep and shepherds might know and love one another.