The Shepherd of Israel
Zechariah xi. 1-17; xiii. 5-9.
If these two passages are read together, it will be observed that they give some remarkable foreshadowings of the ministry of the Messiah to his flock of the chosen people, as well as to those other sheep of which He spake, as not of that fold, but which He must bring, that they should become one flock, one Shepherd (John x. 16).
Five hundred years before Judas sold the true Shepherd for thirty pieces of silver — the price of a slave — and then, seized with remorse, flung the price of blood upon the Temple pavement, that scene had been enacted in the streets of Jerusalem, freshly risen from their ruins. There is prophecy in action, as well as prediction; and the Holy Spirit often led the prophets to embody in striking deeds the conceptions of the future which had been impressed on their own minds.
At the time of which we write the Jewish people seem to have been specially unfortunate. Joshua and Zerubbabel had both passed away, and the rulers and priests who had succeeded them were actuated by the most violent passions. They resembled fire devouring the cedars of Lebanon, or the ax by which the oaks of Bashan are felled. They slew the flock — for the fleece, and the people became a prey to their rapacious appetite for self-aggrandisement. “They that sell them say, Blessed be the Lord, for I am rich, and their own shepherds pity them not.” Hand was raised against hand, the rich plundered the poor, the rulers (jis king, verse 6) smote the land with their violence and injustice, and every weaker one was delivered over to the oppression of high-handed wrong.
It was under such circumstances that Zechariah felt called upon to become the shepherd of Jehovah’s harried flock, and to stand in the breach which should have been filled by faithful and righteous men. Whether Israel generally recognized his pastoral authority does not appear; but he realized strongly the call of God, and fed the flock of slaughter, verily the most miserable of sheep (verse 7, R. V., marg.).
Two staves were in his hand: the one a club to beat back the beasts of prey; the other the crook, with which to extricate any of his charge that might be entangled in pit or thicket. The one was called Beauty, or Grace; the other Bands, or Union. These were the rod and staff of which David had sung in earlier days, and they represent God’s perpetual attitude toward his sheep. He ever deals with them in abundant grace; He is united to them, as they should be united to each other, by the bonds of everlasting love.
Three shepherds, which probably stand for the threefold office of Priest, Prophet, and King, had already failed in the difficult work of restoring order to the disturbed and distressed land. There had been an inalienable disagreement between the Divine Spirit and them. “My soul was weary of them, and their soul also loathed Me.”
After a brief effort to reclaim Israel for its true Shepherd, Zechariah renounced the attempt, saying, “I will not feed you: that that dieth, let it die; and that that is to be cut off, let it be cut off; and let them which are left, eat every one the flesh of another.” He broke his staff of beauteous grace, and cut it asunder, as though the tender love of God had withdrawn from its long wrestle with indomitable pride and self-will. As he did so, the poor of the flock that gave heed unto him, knew that he was acting in accord with the word of the Lord (verse II).
Then came the crucial test. The prophet challenged the people to appraise his services, to give him their estimate in money value. “I said unto them, If ye think good, give me my hire; and if not, forbear.” This incident may have taken place in the Temple, as he stood with his remaining staff in hand, face to face with those that held priestly office, though they lacked the priestly heart. In contempt and scorn they weighed out to him thirty pieces of silver, the price of a slave. “There, prophet of God,” they seemed to say, “take that! Thy services are as worthless to the community as those of some obscure menial employed in the lowest service!” A goodly price indeed for a man’s prayers and tears, for a heart of compassion, and a life of absolute self-surrender! “Cast it unto the potter,” said the inner voice; and, as for this people, they shall pass into the hand of rulers, who shall eat the flesh of the fat, and drive them along paths so rough and flinty that their hoofs will be torn in pieces — a prediction which had a terrible fulfillment in the days of Antiochus and of Hered the Great.
Thereupon the prophet also broke in pieces the other staff, Bands, that the brotherhood between Judah and Israel might be broken in symbol, as afterward in reality. How evidently that brotherhood is broken today! The Jews among us are the descendants of Judah and Benjamin; but where are the ten tribes?
In the following paragraph (vers. 15-17) there is a further evident reference to the terrible reign of Antiochus, whose cruelties toward the Jews instigated the heroic uprising of the Maccabees and their adherents, and led to deeds of faith and prowess which will be forever famous in the annals of the world.
Five centuries passed, and Jehovah made one last effort to reciainr fis wandering sheep, who were y “distressed and scattered, as sheep not having a shepherd” (Matt. ix. 36). Full of grace and truth, fresh from the bosom of the Father, Jesus was sent to gather the flock, which had been scattered in the cloudy and dark day. It was already a flock of slaughter when He began his ministry. The dark shadows of that awful storm of disaster and destruction, which was, within a period of forty years, to sweep Mount Zion bare, had already commenced to brook ominously over the devoted race. If his gracious offices had been recognized and accepted, that slaughter might have been averted. With his staff of grace and his crook of love, the Good Shepherd might have brought his flock from out the dangers that threatened it, and realized the ancient prediction of Ezekiel: “I will feed them with good pasture, and upon the mountains of the height of Israel shall their fold be; there shall they lie down in a good fold, and on fat pasture shall they feed upon the mountains of Israel.” But they would have none of Him. He would have gathered them as the hen her brood, yet they would not. Therefore He was compelled to break his rod and staff, and abandon them to the results of their sin. He was compelled to abandon his earnest endeavors, and, quitting the Temple, uttered the ominous words, “Behold, your house is left unto you desolate. For I say unto you, Ye shall not see Me henceforth till ye shall say, Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord” — a prediction which probably refers to the period described in the last chapter of this book. As Jesus withdrew from the Temple, the last effort of Jehovah to save Israel as a nation was frustrated; the greatest of her prophets had failed, and the last barrier to the catastrophe of descending judgment was removed.
It was at this juncture that the nation was challenged to appraise the worth of the Saviour’s ministry. Between Judas and the priests a monstrous bargain was struck. “They weighed unto him thirty pieces of silver.” This meager dole of the priests stands in grim contrast to the priceless gift of Mary’s ointment, at which Judas caviled; but for this, and so little as this, the Messiah was sold, betrayed, and done to death.
Rejected by his own, the people whom He ardently longed to save, and forsaken by his chosen followers, the Good Shepherd went forth alone to meet the sword. Not the sword of Caiaphas, or the priests; not the sword of Pilate, or the Romans; not the sword of impending justice — but the sword of righteous retribution for the sins of Israel, and the sins of the world. Jew though He were by birth, He was more. The Son of Man, the second Adam, the Lord from Heaven — such are the designations placed on his head, like many crowns. It was as the representative of the race that He went to receive into his own heart the penalty which, like the sword of Damocles, hanging by a hair, impended not over Jerusalem alone, but over the world. He had heard the mysterious summons sounding through the courts of the Temple, and along the corridors of time, “Awake, O sword, against my Shepherd, and against the Man that is my Fellow, saith the Lord of Hosts. Smite the Shepherd.”
That sword had flashed in the hand of the Cherubim at the gate of Eden; had turned every way to guard the path to the Tree of Life; had threatened to pursue the transgressing pair with its relentless edge. It was the sword of justice, the two-edged sword of the Word of God, which avenges disobedience with death. For four thousand years it had slept in its scabbard, pacified, if we may say so, by the Divine assurance that the mercy shown to men would be reconciled with the due acknowledgment of the righteous demands of a broken law. But it could not sleep forever. God’s promise must be redeemed, and his guarantee made good; and so, in the fullness of time, Jesus was set forth as a propitiation, showing the Divine righteousness in passing over sins done aforetime, in the forbearance of God, and enabling God Himself to be just, and the Justifier of those that have faith in Jesus. When our Lord was arrested in the garden, condemned by his judges, and, finally, nailed to the cross; when his heart broke with uncontrollable and unfathomed grief; when the soldier took a spear and pierced his side — simultaneously with these outward scenes there was the awakening of the sword of Divine justice, which pierced and laid bare his heart. “He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon Him; and with his stripes we are healed.” We cannot penetrate the deep mystery which veils the cross, or understand how the suffering of the Shepherd could be counted as equivalent to our bearing the results of our sins. It is difficult to comprehend the transferrence of penalty from a sinful race to the sinless Substitute. But it is impossible to read the inspired statements that describe the death of Christ without realizing that, in some way, which we shall, perhaps, understand in heaven, He met and satisfied the claims of violated law, so that it can ask no more. The quotation of this verse by our Lord Himself on the threshold of Gethsemane (Matt. xxvi. 31) indicates, with unerring precision, its reference and fulfillment; and we believe that because the sword was plunged in his heart, it will sleep forever. The law is magnified and honored, as it could not be by the destruction of a race. However much we prize the death of Christ, our Lord, as an example of patience and self-sacrifice, we must never forget that He did for us what we never could have done for ourselves in magnifying, satisfying, and honoring the claims of the Divine law.
It is interesting to notice how our Lord quotes this summons to the sword. The prophet hears it, addressed directly by the lips of God, “Awake, O sword, against my Fellow”; but in the thought of Jesus, it was not a dumb and impersonal agent merely, with power of automatic or self-prompted action, but an instrument in his Father’s hand. In his lips the quotations stands: “J will smite the Shepherd.” With Him there was no vague abstraction or impersonality. It was not an attitude or quality of the Divine nature, such as justice or righteousness, that drew the sword from its scabbard and plunged it in his heart. He even refused to see Judas, Caiaphas, or Pilate. Passing by all these secondary causes, He sped into the very presence of the Father, and realized that the cup was mixed, the death of the cross arranged, and the sword wielded by Him. This enabled Him to bear his unutterable woe with yielded will and acquiescing heart.
In this, O child of God, learn a life lesson. In all anxieties, in troubles that men may cause to thee, refuse to consider thyself a prey of their wild will, as though thou wert a storm-driven leaf; but dare to believe that what God permits to come is his appointment, and that amid all the plottings and machinations of human malice runs a Divine purpose.
The infinite meaning and value of the death of the Cross are indicated by the three significant appellations with which the Sufferer 1s addressed.
My SHEPHERD. — Mark that emphatic my. It is as though Jehovah would contrast the Shepherd of his choosing with those that had been selected by human caprice. His Davids against the people’s Sauls. From out of the family of man God has drawn, and is drawing, certain who are attracted by a special affinity to his Son, wrought in them by his Holy Spirit; and these are accounted his flock, and are entrusted to his pastoral care. They were the Father’s; but the Father has made them over to the Son, according to Christ’s own words: “Thine they were, and Thou gavest them Me, * * * and these have known that Thou didst send Me.” Distinguished from the rest of men — because they hear the Shepherd’s voice, know, and follow Him — these enjoy immediately and intimately his pastoral care. He guides them over the wolds of time, feeding them on the green pastures, and beside the still waters; conducting them through darksome gorges and dangerous glens; defending them from lion and bear with rod and staff; and even in the realms of glory not ceasing to be their Shepherd. They follow Him even deeper into the heart of eternity, where the fountains of life first break forth into sight.
This thought for the sheep committed to his custody possessed the mind of the Great Shepherd on the night in which He was betrayed, when He went forth to meet Judas and the arresting band. Placing Himself between them and the frightened little group that cowered behind Him, He said, “If ye seek Me, let these go their way.” If He had been an hireling, when He saw thé wolf coming, He would have fled; but because He was God’s Shepherd, He stood between his own and peril, as He always will do in every dark hour that may menace us between this and the safety of the gates of pearl.
We have a strong claim on Jesus, because He is God’s Shepherd, the representative of the Divine care, the custodian of the Divine honor. In every prayer for help, we may remind Him that He stands to us as the gift and sponsor of the Divine faithfulness. He must be to us all that God Himself would be.
* My Fertow. — When our Lord quoted this text in the upper room, as He rose to leave it, He stopped before He reached these words. But the omission was not due to any hesitation on his part to appropriate them. He knew that He was Jehovah’s Fellow, else He would never have included the Father with Himself in the significant pronoun, We. “We will come, and make our abode with Him.” He counted not equality with God a prize to be grasped at. And it was the fact of his being Jehovah’s: Fellow that made his death of such infinite worth. Man could not have redeemed his fellow; but the Infinite Lawgiver Himself, taking to his heart the penalty of his own broken law, afforded it the greatest possible homage and satisfaction.
Surely there is a designed contrast between Fellow and Hosts. God is the Lord of many Hosts, in heaven, and earth, and sea; but He has only one Fellow. All the Hosts of angels and nature had not availed for the work of propitiation — this He must do Himself; and He did it in the person of Jesus.
Tue Man. — “The Man that is my Fellow.” By his tears and anguish, by the pains of death and the article of dissolution, his humanity was attested. And how real, how tender, how near they make Him to us all. No man so abject and sinful but may approach Him, when he is numbered with the transgressors,and hangs in death between two malefactors. Would you touch God through his Fellow, then touch yonder dying Man. The gulf is bridged; the yawning chasm is spanned. By the grace of the one Man we may now receive the abundance of grace, and reign in life, here and hereafter.
Beware how you treat this blessed Man. Still men sell Him for thirty pieces of silver; tread beneath their wanton feet his precious blood; and do despite to his grace. Still they prefer their paltry silverlings to his matchless worth. Would that their blind eyes were opened to see the matchless glory and beauty of Him who stands at their door to knock.
The disciples were scattered when their Shepherd was taken. He had foreseen this: “Behold the hour cometh, yea, is come, that ye shall be scattered, every one to his own, and shall leave Me alone.” And it seemed as though the hand of God was against them, to their utter undoing in the dread hours that followed. But who shall tell the woes that befell the chosen people that had rejected the Messiah! The disciples wept for but a little space, and their sorrow was soon turned into joy. But the Jews succumbed beneath the woes, which, within forty years, befell their nation. It came to pass in all the land, that two parts were cut off, while the remainder passed through the fire, and have been passing through it ever since. Nor can it be otherwise, until they acknowledge Jesus as their true Shepherd, and allow Him to fold them, and humble themselves to become the people of his pasture, and the sheep of his hand.