Art Thou a Shepherdess?

Lately I have been feasting in the blessed passages of Hosea, the truths of which are rich and plentiful.

In this book, there is at least one unquestionably typological statement (Old Testament verse that points to the character, life, death, and/or ministry of Christ): Hosea 11:1. Here, God declares, “Out of Egypt I called my son,” which Matthew would later quote in reference to the Messiah (Matt. 2:15).

In Hosea, the immediate context, Israel is the son, while Egypt is typified as their place of bondage. Israel was to never consult Egypt nor were they to ever return. However, in Matthew, that which was formerly a place of idolatry and slavery becomes a place of refuge, as Israel has surpassed Egypt and become itself a land of idolatry, sorrow, and slaughter. Thousands of years prior, Pharaoh had decreed that all Hebrew males at birth should be killed because he feared for his kingdom and his throne (Ex. 1). Now, at the time of Christ, Herod, supposedly ruling the Jews, issues a similar decree—that all baby boys under two be murdered—because of his fear for his kingdom and his throne. God calls Israel “out of Egypt” because Egypt had enslaved them. He now calls his Son “out of Egypt” because the land of Pharaoh protects Him from the chosen people who have become Egypt.

Behold, a type.

This thinking set the stage for my reading of Hosea 12:12, a much lesser-known verse: “Jacob fled to the country of Aram; Israel [in other words, Jacob] served to get a wife, and to pay for her he tended sheep.” I had to sit on this. Israel here refers not to the nation but to the man. Even so, I wondered what this minute, descriptive historical comment could say about my Beloved.

It then became clear: Before Israel (Jacob) could marry, he had to first tend the sheep. Before the joys of marriage, before becoming the bridegroom, he had to serve first as a shepherd. Does that not sound like Someone else we know?

One day Christ shall marry His Church, and all of us who are in Him are invited. He is our Bridegroom. Yet, He is also our Shepherd, who calls His sheep by name and leads them out (Jn. 10:3), who goes on ahead of them, and whom they follow because they know His voice (v. 4). He protects them as their gate and guides them into pasture (v. 9). He comes that they may taste life in abundance (v. 10) and loves them sacrificially by laying down His life (v. 11). He knows the sheep, and His sheep know Him (v. 14), and He must do it all before becoming the honored Bridegroom.

This pattern modeled by Christ is not so far removed from us. What is the logical progression, especially as women? Shepherdess, and then bride. Does Christ not model, as in other things, this pattern of discipleship?

I think of Rachel and Zipporah. We meet Rachel in Genesis 29, as Jacob converses with the shepherds from Harran. As they speak, Rachel approaches “with her father’s sheep, for she was a shepherd” (v. 9). Similarly, we meet Zipporah, Moses’ wife, one of seven daughters, also at a well, drawing water and filling the troughs to satisfy her father’s flock (Ex. 2:16).

Each married a patriarch, and in each case he too—Jacob and Moses—spent considerable time among the sheep before God exalted him. Where did these women begin? Not in places of recognition but in lonely, desolate ones, in messy, dirty work, serving their families and tending their sheep.

Serving God, if He wills, as mothers and disciplers of our children, remains our most formidable challenge and the peak of our shepherding career. Yet have we first been a shepherdess? Are we accustomed to the lonely, thankless, dirty, desolate work that ever tries our patience? Are we used to denying self and declining that in which we may be free to indulge for the sake of our sheep? Do we, like our Good Shepherd, stand alert and watchful, ever on guard for that which may contaminate, corrupt, or divide? Do we serve Him as pure shepherdesses, patiently tending our Father’s sheep?

We too are engaged to a Good Shepherd, who shall one day be our Bridegroom. He offers us much experience and models that which we seek to become. He listens. He watches, and He waits. He did not flee but “served to get a wife,” and to pay for her He gave His life.