The Lost Sheep by R. T. Sisley

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Mar 19, 1914

The Lost Sheep

By R. T. Sisley

R. T. SISLEY

ONE cold, frosty night, as my custom was, I went out just before retiring to see if all my stock were in good condition for the night. When I came to the sheep shed, I went in to ascertain if they were all right. Something seemed to say, "Look them over and see if all are in." I commenced, and soon found that a butternut-colored yearling was missing.

What should be done? The pasture was a long way off, and it was a hard place to find a butternut-colored sheep in the dark among the fallen trees, burned black. Besides, many bushes and briers were in patches all about. Something else seemed to say: "I think it will be all right in the morning. You had better go to bed, and get your rest, since you are already very weary." I could not, however, feel satisfied until I had made an effort to find that missing sheep, because the dogs had been worrying them even in the daytime. I therefore went out, and followed path after path, but all in vain.

What more could I do?—I had not called; I might try that. So I commenced to call, and had the satisfaction of hearing my voice rolling off on the still, frosty air. But presently I heard, or thought I heard, a faint answer in the distance; so I called again, "Nan!

Nan! Nan!" I listened again and heard a response. Again I renewed my calling, but the answer did not come more distinctly. "Why does it not come?" I said to myself. "Well, if you will not come to me, I must go to you." So I started in the direction of the sound, alternately calling and listening. I soon found that I was on the right track, as the bleating was becoming plainer each time I heard it. I finally came to the edge of a low piece of ground which was very damp, and consequently the grass had made an early and rapid growth.

Here I was happy to find the sheep safe and sound, although fastened to the earth with a rope of raspberry briers so strong that its efforts to release itself had been in vain. It appeared as if some briers had become entangled in the wool on the throat, and the animal had walked around until more briers and more twisting had made a rope too strong for its strength to break or loosen from the earth. To release it, I pulled up the root of each brier separately, until all were thus removed. Then I had the sheep by the rope that had held it so firmly to the ground. The lost sheep was soon happy with its companions, and I sought my bed for needed rest.

Now, what thoughts think you I had when hunting, releasing, and leading that sheep back to the fold? They were just about such ones as I should imagine the Saviour intended shepherds and people interested in sheep to feel when reading the parable of the Good Shepherd. Let us notice the condition of this sheep: It was lonely; it was a prisoner; it was in danger of being destroyed by dogs; it was hungry, for it had eaten close to the ground all the grass within its circumscribed circle; and, judging from its actions on meeting its friends, it had also been quite unhappy.

The lessons to be learned are: When impressed to labor for some soul or go on some errand of mercy, do it at once. If undecided what course of action is right, it is usually best to follow the one which savors less of self. If we have relatives or friends outside the fold, it is our privilege and duty to hunt for such ones; for, however dear they may be to us, however esteemed for their many good qualities, the Word of God shows that they are cursed; they are doomed, if found outside of Christ.

We must leave no means untried till we succeed in giving help to those who need help. Had I followed only the well-worn paths over that large pasture, I should not have found the lost sheep; for it was not in a path, nor near one. It was by calling the sheep, and by crawling over logs and through bushes and briers, that I found it. Suppose I had said, when I thought I heard a response, "If you do not come now, you can have your own will and stay where you are; for it is too late, and I am too tired to hunt all over the pasture after you." Had it been left there, it might have been killed by dogs. Shall we leave our friends and neighbors, or any one that comes within the sphere of our influence, without using every possible endeavor to bring them to a condition and place of safety? — No; we must use the most untiring and unselfish energy, and the kindest and most skillful tact that can be learned from the Great Shepherd of the flock; for Satan as a roaring lion seeketh whom he may devour.

It is not always enough to call, or even to show the way. We must be more personally interested in those for whom we labor; we must find if they are bound to the earth; and, if so, with what, and whether they would like a little assistance to get released; for they may have been struggling in their own strength to get free, and become discouraged, thinking that no man cares for their souls.

The truth is that many of us are more or less in bondage, and the need of aid in freeing the unfortunate is one of the crying demands on the church today. We cannot excuse ourselves by saying, "Am I my brother's keeper?" The true Shepherd will hold us each responsible for putting forth the best possible efforts for those within the zone of our influence.

Soekaboemi, Java.