During our travels in Scotland, the one constant besides the enormous breakfasts was the presence of sheep. At first glance there is the ‘cute’ factor that these wooly beings conjure up. But as I spent more and more time observing them, walking quite near them and being present to them, I realized these four-leggeds have much to teach us. Here are just some of the gleanings of being in the company of sheep.

First, sheep are fully present to the moment. Whether in a flat, lushly green pasture or at the top of a craggy moor, sheep are present to their environment. Humans may rush by.Jets may roar overhead. Other animals may encroach on their space. They continue to be calm and at home wherever their journey of the day has taken them.

Sheep are flexible. They seem to be as happy grazing in a pasture or at the top of a mountain. Winds may whip up around them, they are not fazed. Rain may pour down, creating mud and muck, they never vary their pace. The sun may come out, a rainbow may shine over their heads, they remain grounded, standing in beauty. They take the ebb and flow of life’s challenges in stride.

Several times I had the opportunity to be quite up close and personal with sheep. Here is what I noticed: Sheep, like dogs, seem to be an animal that actually will look you in the eye. In approaching one or two sheep, I was unsure of what my move should be, what theirs might be. And so I simply looked into their oddly pupil-ed eyes. We seemed to come to some understanding that ‘all shall be well’ and that co-existing, four-legged and two-legged was an okay thing.

And speaking of co-existing, perhaps the most amazing thing I observed was how sheep don’t need to be surrounded by their own kind to be happy, to be content. One afternoon on Iona, I was hiking out to the North Beach. I watched as a sheep was sitting meditatively in the pasture. As he sat there, a crow landed on his head. The sheep did not budge. I could not believe my eyes. But then, it got even better. That crow lifted into the air and a different crow landed on the sheep’s head while the first crow made a perch on the sheep’s back. And then, if only to confound me more, the second crow flew up, joined the first crow on the sheep’s back and a third crow landed on the head of the sheep. Still, the sheep sat calmly co-existing with his feathered companions. A trinity of birds on the body of the sheep. This may sound unbelievable but I have witnesses.

And so, after all these encounters in the company of sheep, it became even clearer to me the depth of the lessons of Jesus that centered around these humble animals. As a person who was also often surrounded by sheep, he, too, must have seen the wisdom of their daily walk. As he wove stories to teach us of the kin-dom of God, why wouldn’t the sheep show up in the telling? After all, they know how to be present to the movement of the Spirit. They are flexible and find ways to graze wherever they can. They are calm, grounded witnesses to the world around them. They look you in the eye, acknowledging your presence. And they live and play well with others. Certainly all these traits are ones humans could emulate.

In Luke, Jesus tells the story of the shepherd who has a hundred sheep. At the end of the day in his accounting of his flock, he only finds ninety-nine and proceeds to go on a search to find the lost sheep. “Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it?’ asks Jesus.

I wonder if the lost one was the sheep who would let three crows rest on it?