A Song for today from Zechariah 11

Zechariah 11

Open your doors, Lebanon,
    so that fire may devour your cedars!
² Wail, you juniper, for the cedar has fallen;
    the stately trees are ruined!
Wail, oaks of Bashan;
    the dense forest has been cut down!
³ Listen to the wail of the shepherds;
    their rich pastures are destroyed!
Listen to the roar of the lions;
    the lush thicket of the Jordan is ruined!

⁴ This is what the Lord my God says: “Shepherd the flock marked for slaughter.⁵ Their buyers slaughter them and go unpunished. Those who sell them say, ‘Praise the Lord, I am rich!’ Their own shepherds do not spare them. ⁶ For I will no longer have pity on the people of the land,” declares the Lord. “I will give everyone into the hands of their neighbors and their king. They will devastate the land, and I will not rescue anyone from their hands.”

⁷ So I shepherded the flock marked for slaughter, particularly the oppressed of the flock. Then I took two staffs and called one Favor and the other Union, and I shepherded the flock. ⁸ In one month I got rid of the three shepherds.

The flock detested me, and I grew weary of them ⁹ and said, “I will not be your shepherd. Let the dying die, and the perishing perish. Let those who are left eat one another’s flesh.”

¹⁰ Then I took my staff called Favor and broke it, revoking the covenant I had made with all the nations. ¹¹ It was revoked on that day, and so the oppressed of the flock who were watching me knew it was the word of the Lord.

¹² I told them, “If you think it best, give me my pay; but if not, keep it.” So they paid me thirty pieces of silver.

¹³ And the Lord said to me, “Throw it to the potter”—the handsome price at which they valued me! So I took the thirty pieces of silver and threw them to the potter at the house of the Lord.

¹⁴ Then I broke my second staff called Union, breaking the family bond between Judah and Israel.

¹⁵ Then the Lord said to me, “Take again the equipment of a foolish shepherd.¹⁶ For I am going to raise up a shepherd over the land who will not care for the lost, or seek the young, or heal the injured, or feed the healthy, but will eat the meat of the choice sheep, tearing off their hooves.

¹⁷ “Woe to the worthless shepherd,
    who deserts the flock!
May the sword strike his arm and his right eye!
    May his arm be completely withered,
    his right eye totally blinded!”

The Song of the True Shepherd

You must be broken, prideful city

All your treasures must be burned

Cry out, for nothing was more precious

To you than the wealth you earned

Shepherd, Elder, Parent, Defender,

You scream not for your sheep

But the rich pasture now in ruins

The livelihood you keep

Now One is coming, a True Shepherd

Who will lay down His life for the weak

The small and the silent now find their rest

In the cleansing words He will speak

Those foolish shepherds who abused them before

Thought they were blessed by God’s will

And if the True Shepherd had not driven them out

They would devour the poor sheep still

He will tenderly kneel and anoint their ragged hooves

Apply oil to keep away the pests

With Favor and Union He protects and He leads

The True Shepherd always gives what is best!

How can it be, then, that after a little while

The flock turns in hatred on Him?

Despises His ways and ignores His calling

Wandering in arrogance and sin?

Woe to this flock!  After being set free

And brought into safety with their King

They chase their own deaths on the rocks and the cliffs

And reject the life He came to bring

He will not chase forever!  He will give you your way

Do not imagine that in taking away your pain

He would rob your free choice to despise His grace

And take up your painful ways again

You might call yourself His, you might speak His words

But never be led by His staff

His favor over you will not always last

One day it will break in half

“So what did I mean to you?” The Shepherd will say

“What was all my suffering worth?”

Thirty silver coins, the wages of a slave,

Will be offered to the King of the earth.

Because He was a slave to you, not a King

Just as the foolish shepherds used you for food

You have now used Him to heal all your wounds

Set your table, soften your mood.

The potter’s field holds the bodies of men

Who came humbly, as foreigners to Grace,

They will rest peacefully, but you, who had everything,

Throw it down as you search for a better place

The Union is shattered—no more will the proud

And the humble eat from the same plate

Those who call themselves Christ’s will be divided

And only those who love Him will stay

A vile shepherd will come to destroy the flock of God

Raised up by God’s own hand!

Those who endure and love Christ through it all

Will be delivered to the Promised Land

Such a time of sadness to be borne by those

Who still had so much life to lay down

But hope, peace and courage for those whose life

Is Jesus, His glory their crown.

You little shepherds under Christ, take up your tools!

Be bold! Be true! Be right!

You Elders of the Church of God, take care,

For your sheep must make it through the night!

You foolish shepherd who only cares for the pay

Who runs in fear in the hardest times,

Your worthless arm, meant to shield, may it wither

Your eye, meant to watch, may it be blind.