This past week, I preached a sermon at our three Sunday morning services using the parable of the lost sheep from Luke 15:1-7 as the second text. Then, this week, I was reading a book of religious poetry, and I stumbled upon the following piece, entitled De Sheepfol’, by American author Sarah Pratt McLean Green (1856-1935). The style, of course, is a spiritual, which originated from the African’ -American slave experience. To achieve its fullest meaning, a spiritual is to be both read and heard. Thus, like many works in this genre, Green’s poem finally comes to life when spoken aloud. The author’s fresh take on this familiar story stirred a new reaction within me, by evoking a sense of our common humanity across lines of race and class. I hope that it proves to be meaningful for you, as well.

Po’ lil’ brack sheep dat strayed away,
Done los’ in de win’ an’ de rain-
An’ de Shepherd He say, “O hirelin’,
Go fin’ my sheep again.’
An’ de hirelin’ say, “O Shepherd,
Dat sheep am brack and bad,”
But de Shepherd He smile, like dat lil’ brack sheep
Wuz de onliest lamb He had.
An’ de Shepherd go out in de darkness
Where de night wuz col’ an’ bleak,
And dat lil’ brack sheep, He fin’ it,
An’ lay it agains’ His cheek.
An’ de hirelin’ frown; “O Shepherd,
Don’ bring dat sheep to me!”
But de Shepherd He smile, an’ He hol’ it close.
An’- dat lil’ brack sheep - was – me!

Reverend Jonathan Hauerwas