Hiking along in Wadi Kelt, I hear the soft sounds of rushing water flowing over desert rocks and stones. The wind picks up, and a whooshing noise follows, as a gust blows through tall, delicate reeds that line the stream. Next comes the chirp of gentle birdsong as the breeze dies down, a flutter of wings.
I stop and close my eyes to listen to the changing symphony of nature. At that moment, I hear something new: the soft bleating of an approaching flock of sheep. Their baas are accompanied by the clinking of a dull bell and the clunking of hundreds of little footsteps on rock.
Soon, the flock appears, climbing over craggy rocks in unison, fluffy and disheveled in shades of black, brown, and white, speckled and plain. This flock is traveling with a young shepherd, his long brown sidelocks swaying at his cheeks, in dusty clothing, staff in hand. I am not startled or surprised to see this young man and his sheep.
Sights like these are incredibly common out here in Israel’s great outdoors. In almost any part of the country, one will encounter goats and sheep grazing on hiking trails, always accompanied by a shepherd man or boy, sometimes Jewish and more often Bedouin, with perhaps a sheepdog or two.
I’ve learned a lot about sheep and goats during my time hiking in Israel. First and foremost, they are not to be feared. This discovery was a significant change from my childhood impression of these animals, which came from my experiences at the Audubon Children’s Zoo. There, fearless goats would grab snacks out of hands and baby strollers with impunity.
Here in nature, these gentle creatures prefer the company of their peers to human strangers. If you walk toward them, they will pick up the pace and move quickly away in unison, no matter what food you are carrying. Their only animal companions are the white egrets that perch on their soft shoulders.
Our border collie does not understand this and always attempts to make friends with flocks of sheep on the trail. Local shepherds generally do not appreciate his friendliness.
SHEPHERDING IS a long-time tradition in the Holy Land, dating back to pre-biblical times. Adam’s son, Ebel, was a shepherd, and God seemed to prefer his offering to that of his farmer brother, Cain. Most of our forefathers and great leaders were shepherds: Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, and King David, to name a few. Shepherding is by no means new to our people.
In recent times, good Jewish fathers and mothers have been known to encourage their children to train as doctors or lawyers, at Ivy League institutions and big universities. Before that, Jews were merchants or money lenders, living in cities far away from sheep and meadows.
Here in modern-day Israel, Jewish society has a different set of standards. Among the many diverse professions in this country, it’s not unusual to find youngsters studying the art of shepherding, in training facilities or out in the field.
Sheep and goats in the Holy Land
Local sheep and goats are bred for several purposes in the Land of Milk and Honey. Their milk is used to make all kinds of different yogurts and cheeses, most of which are exported to other countries. Because of their penchant for grazing, herds serve as the local fire prevention crew in some parts of Israel (Ramat Hanadiv, for example), trimming down flammable brush year-round to prevent summer wildfires.
On farms around Judea and Samaria, sheep and goat herds are often used as a way to mark territory – according to the local custom, the area where you graze your sheep defines your property line.
Our sages commonly speculated about the special nature of shepherding. Why was it the pastime of choice for so many of our ancient holy men?
Some said the defining factor was the caring nature of the career and the careful attention shepherds had to pay to their flocks. This honed skill nurtured the leadership qualities of our forefathers and made them suited to guide their people in the ways of God. Others point to the solitary nature of shepherding and insist that it is the lifestyle most suited to quiet contemplation of the Creator.
From my encounters with shepherds on hiking trails, I understand the appeal of the job.
I’m walking through a flower-filled field, and a shepherd approaches with his flock. He is alone with his sheep in these quiet surroundings, with no co-workers to disturb what must be many hours of near silence.
I imagine what it must be like to tend to these animals day after day, while walking nature trails. I think how it must feel to spend the majority of one’s time outdoors, with the chance to contemplate the artistic masterpiece that is nature: its changing skies, new flowers and growth, soft earth, and rocky terrain.
The combination of daily exposure to the magnificence of creation along with hours of silence is a sure formula for connection to God. In the Land of Milk and Honey, where flocks roam, there’s ample opportunity to gain hands-on understanding of our own people’s history and the great shepherds and leaders that were a part of it.