(a Steve Orr scripture reflection)
Most cows are contented cows. That’s how it seemed with our dairy cows. If we fed them and milked them twice a day, all was well.
There’s always one, though, isn’t there?
We had such a cow. Not only was she not content with the fields of feed we had planted, she was an opinion leader. Each day, she led her little cadre of followers out to the fence-line. There, they thrust their heads through to eat what was growing on the other side. But that wasn’t enough for her. As the easy pickings became exhausted, she cast her eye a bit further afield, coveting more of those tasty plants that were just out of her reach.
Why any of this matters: In our fields, we had planted the right grasses for our cows. These worked with the other feed we provided while they were being milked. The two formed a balanced diet for healthy dairy cattle. The plants outside our fence were wild and not supportive of their health.
First assault: She and her gang pressed against the wire fence until it came loose from the posts. They then stepped out and nibbled on their ill-gotten gains. They did this three times before we finally caved in and, very reluctantly, substituted barbed wire for the standard fencing. That did the trick—for a while.
Second assault: It didn’t keep her from trying, but those sharp pricks from the barbs sent her crew back to our field grasses. Until, with stubborn determination, she managed, despite many scrapes and cuts, to push the strands of barbed wire loose at her favorite spot. Once she was through, her entourage reassembled for another off-the-range chow down.
We didn’t wait for the next assault.
We installed an electrified fence. Now, you may be thinking that was a cruel thing to do. But for any cow that stayed well away from the fence-line, it made no difference. We only wanted to curtail the activities of the few intransigents. And it worked. Once those cows brushed up against the electrified fence, there was no repeat. They all returned to eating what was in our fields.
Except for our lone contrary cow.
Third assault: Well, it wasn’t much of an assault. After a few times, she stopped touching the electric fence. But every day she fed right next to it. While all the other cows met their dietary needs out in the broader field, our contrary cow fed by the fence line, constantly looking out at the plants growing on the other side, never satisfied with what was provided for her in our fields.
Hanging out at the fence like our contrary cow, staring longingly at what we are not supposed to have: That’s the wrong way to approach life. It’s bad enough that we could get quite a shock by trying to ram the fence.
It’s worse if we make it through.
This week’s Advent passage from the Gospel of Luke tells us to “be alert at all times,” and to “Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life.” When you read it, you will agree It is, without a doubt, one of the darkest Advent scriptures. What it’s about, though, is desiring, anticipating, watching for, and patiently awaiting the return of Jesus.
Let’s not be the contrary cow. The easiest way for us to do that is to feed on the spiritual meal provided to us—to stay out in the middle of the pasture, so to speak. We can then stand up and raise our heads in joy when the Lord comes to bring us true freedom.
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