A Decade of Deconstruction: I Don’t Need a Shepherd

A Decade of Deconstruction: I Don’t Need a Shepherd

“The Lord is My Shepherd.” Psalms 23

“I am the Good Shepherd.” Jesus

In case you’re unaware of my background, I was raised in predominantly evangelical Protestant churches. More than that, I grew up in churches that believed in the literal interpretation of the Bible, even when their assumptions (beliefs) didn’t make sense. I became a pastor at 32 and spent nearly 20 years in rural small-town ministry.

One of the images I internalized was the idea of God as a shepherd who cares for the sheep. Along with this, I also accepted the idea that Jesus was the ultimate shepherd and that by aligning with him, I would receive all the promises that came with that. Over time and throughout my life, I noticed holes developing in those theories and in the use of the shepherd metaphor. But like a good soldier or a sheep, I continued to hold onto that idea and even recited those verses in churches I attended and led.

Eventually, all the questions caught up with me, and I had to stop being a pastor after 20 years so I could pursue some of my lingering questions. About 10 years ago, I honestly asked if God is really a good father, which started a journey of exploring and deconstructing my religious faith. Now that I have more clarity, the shepherd metaphor and others like it are unraveling.

If you’re hesitant to read the rest of this blog, I encourage you to focus on the statement below, meditate on it, and ask yourself more questions. The moment I realized I was deconstructing the shepherd narrative was when I said to myself, “I’m not a sheep!”

I am not a sheep!

Yes, I realized that congregations and religious people often resemble sheep when they develop what I call a “learned codependence.” In religious circles, it is common to give up much of our autonomy and stop thinking for ourselves. What we call Bible studies or small groups are usually just simple lessons to confirm what we already assume (believe). The leaders, also known as shepherds, accept the power differential and the controlling aspects of being recognized as such, even if they don’t like it.

Whether I admit it or not, one of the appealing aspects of becoming a pastor, priest, or other religious leader is that you no longer have to be a sheep, and people are strongly conditioned not to question you or think too much for themselves. Even the morally bankrupt preachers and the most toxic churches still demand the sheep to “follow me” while they credit it to God for informing them of this arrangement.

Now that the internet has eliminated gatekeepers of information, people need to stop acting like sheep so the shepherds can get what they want. The idea that “the world” is more corrupt than the church was mostly proven wrong by our access to information and recording devices. Sheep following a specific shepherd only succeed when they instill fear of anyone who disagrees with them, even those from other religions similar to their own.

Several valuable insights can be drawn from the shepherd/sheep metaphor. Sometimes, it’s helpful to have a guide who has traveled the same path we’re considering. In my experience, these guides appear when we need them most for the journey. They are seasoned travelers who understand the real-life challenges of discovery, not theology majors who are well-versed in religious assumptions and accept the overly controlling aspects of most religions. We don’t really need shepherds; we need experienced companions.

Having served as a lead pastor for nearly 20 years, I value my life experience before entering the ministry more than I do during it, as it has made me a better guide and companion. Honestly, my theology degree only increased my controlling tendencies and arrogance about my authority. When people behaved like sheep, it only reinforced the shepherd myth in my mind, leading us to do far less good as we perpetuated the Shepherd/Sheep narrative.

Psalms 23

 “The Lord is my shepherd”

I understand that Psalm 23 has brought comfort to many over the years, even though this understanding relies on a weak and flawed metaphor. If David was the author, as a genuine shepherd of actual sheep, I believe it helped him to view God this way because that’s all he knew. He didn’t have the advantage of understanding how people are wired and what motivates them, and honestly, how different from sheep we truly are and can be.

“I shall not want”

Most expositors of this passage are quick to point out before the conversation starts that this passage refers to needs, not wants. However, some lines get blurry when you’re hungry or without shelter, as several New Testament references mention receiving the desires of our hearts.

In the U.S., a heated debate is ongoing as the government shuts down, and people with limited resources are used as pawns in political fights. When someone is hungry, their longing for food is both a want and a need. When someone is homeless, their desire for safety is not only a necessity but also a craving.

Millions of religious Americans find themselves today in a state of want and need, as politicians blame each other. They are not good shepherds or practical guides. They are blind leaders, like Bob Dylan described, who have ears but can’t hear people’s cries.

“He makes me lie down in green pastures”

Many writers of the Old and New Testaments expressed the idea that if we had the right shepherd, we would have green pastures to sustain us. The prosperity doctrine in the United States exploited this concept, which generally benefited only the celebrity pastor and his inner circle as they extracted “wants and needs” from their congregations. Priests in past eras demanded indulgences that enriched the organization but sometimes strayed from the original idea of helping one another. It’s one reason we have beautiful, empty cathedrals and long lines to get food or shelter.

People in the Bible Belt of the United States are statistically the least likely to be able to “lie down in green pastures” and often rely on societal safety nets to meet basic needs. There are many reasons for this; it’s a complex issue, and correlation doesn’t always mean causation. However, poverty, lack of education, and fundamentalism tend to be characteristics of the same flocks, and there is often more want and need in the areas where they exalt the “Good Shepherd.”

“He leads me beside still waters.”

I certainly had some positive experiences during my time in organized religion. For nearly 20 years, I tried to see myself as a traveler with my congregations, and we achieved some good things. However, I was still burdened by most of the doctrines that, unfortunately, caused grief for me and likely for my congregants as well. Every church probably begins with good intentions, but then the demands of the organization become intense, especially with the power imbalances inherent in a shepherd/sheep dynamic.

When I think about still waters now, I associate them with meditation, mindfulness, and an ancient practice called “centering prayer.” When I was involved in organized religion, still waters were something we arranged without fully understanding them. During retreats and vacations, I don’t think we even knew how to experience solitude without some planned activity. It was only after I left organized religion that I discovered these still waters that seemed like what David was describing.

“He restores my soul”

People in religion often believe that those who leave their faith will inevitably fall into evil and lead a life devoid of spirituality, purpose, or love. Listen closely to a pastor or priest when a member of their congregation considers exploring other spiritual paths or rejecting spirituality entirely, and you’ll hear the voice of a shepherd—though not in a positive sense. The shepherds in organized religion are mainly concerned with attendance numbers, which we used to call “counting nickels and noses.” The shepherd’s survival depends on us staying in their flock, not on restoring our souls. That’s why they chase the “lost” sheep. It’s their livelihood.

In fact, through my decade of introspection, I have come to realize that only I can restore my inner peace and my soul. It involves becoming comfortable with solitude, discovering who I am, and then forming meaningful relationships that help me heal and nurture my renewal. Religious services are meant to touch our emotions and trigger chemicals that can be equally released by listening to a speech, attending a concert, or simply being with a trusted friend. Our innermost identity is not something we can obtain from anyone, including a deity.

It’s not magic, but it’s also not a job. It’s most accurately a state of being that restores us!

Jesus as the Good Shepherd

In John chapter 10 of the Bible, Jesus describes himself as the Good Shepherd. One of the main benefits he claims is that he lays down his life for the sheep. It reminds me of my early days as a husband, when I promised I would sacrifice my life to protect my new wife. Over the years, in many ways, she has helped me realize that, generally, her life isn’t usually in danger. Still, she would greatly appreciate it if I could communicate with her and support her when she feels overwhelmed. She enjoyed my dedication but hoped most that I would take out the trash and listen to her when she was troubled.

While I understand the concept of substitutionary atonement, I generally view it as a construct that Paul developed in his letters and others proliferated. If it’s true, then Jesus already accomplished it (“it is finished,”) so I don’t have to spend mental energy questioning it, and if he did it and achieved something that benefits me, then great! It’s the other promise he made that worries me.

He claimed to know me!

The passage in John 10 indicates a relationship, as He states that He knows their voice and they know His. Now that I’m away from organized religion and probably an agnostic, I feel like I have much more genuine relationships with people and better divine experiences than before. I don’t tithe or attend services, and I haven’t seriously read my Bible in a long time, except when I want to recall specific passages.

Standard biblical counseling emphasizes the importance of praying constantly, reading the Bible daily, and attending church services regularly. After avoiding these practices for a decade, my life has undergone significant improvement. When I practiced them, I sometimes felt inspired and was definitely able to help others navigate life and find connection. However, none of it compares to the relationship Jesus described in John 10.

My conservative friends might say I was never truly saved or a real Christian, but that ignores twenty years of dedicated Bible study, prayer, and service to small rural churches. I was engaged, I believed, and I trusted what they said was true.

My relationship with my wife is much better than the relationship I had trying to connect with God and Jesus within religion, and even outside of it, for a few years. Though communication is always a challenge for people, it only seems to complicate things when I have to have a relationship with a being I can’t see or hear. Due to my experiences, I now distrust these narratives entirely.

I think people can have unexplainable experiences, but I don’t believe it’s common in everyday life, even if we are fully committed to a religion and the deity that our ancestors have envisioned. Even in monastic life, where people dedicate every part of their lives to a deity, the results are inconsistent and unclear. If they were honest, most would probably admit that it’s not like having a good friend, even though that’s the sales pitch.

A Way Forward

If there is a creator of the universe that is all-powerful and all-knowing, and wants to have a relationship with me, then I am confident they can find me and communicate in a way I can understand. To me, the responsibility lies with the more powerful being that can transcend time and space to sit down and talk with me.

Most of my ideals about this personal relationship with the deity were shattered after I spent 20 years of my life and committed everything to making it happen. I now feel more connected to the universe and things I don’t understand than I ever did when I knew the Bible well, prayed daily, and attended services regularly.

I don’t need a shepherd because I’m not a sheep. But I also don’t believe the “Good Shepherd” ever lived up to His promise.

I don’t need a shepherd to control me; I need people who will listen and connect with me.

I don’t really need anything magical to happen; I need something natural to happen.

Before religious people volunteer to be that connection, let me remind you that I have spent 50 years in various types of churches, in different places, and in multiple roles: as a shepherd, a sheep, and a sojourner. My salvation over the past decade involved more people outside the flock than inside.

Those who gathered had a hard time relating to a sheep that thought for itself and didn’t trust the shepherds or some of the other sheep.

When I recognized the importance of authenticity and presence, I was able to heal, grow, and discover so much that now naturally guides me to still waters and restores my soul.

Be where you are, Be who you are, Be at peace!

Karl Forehand

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