I’m profoundly grateful for Don Carson’s half-century of scholarship and his leadership with the NSBT particularly. This approach to building theology from the ground up is more common for biblical scholars than systematic theologians, and while Don is among the former, he has shown his savvy in navigating both worlds.

Like many who have contributed to the series, I benefited from Don’s wisdom in the editorial process. My biggest hurdle was having him say that my manuscript—already pruned to a minimum viable product!—needed shaving by another ten percent. One paragraph on page thirty-five with seventeen long bibliographical notes had to be protected from the editorial cleaver. (I’ll explain why below.) The result was a publishable volume just a few words shy of 100,000 words—and one picture on the front. I compensated for that imbalance with a sequel¹Tim Laniak, The Good Shepherd: Forty Biblical insights on Leading and Being Led (Grand Rapids: Our Daily Bread Publishing, 2024). featuring a lot fewer words and a lot more pictures.

Shepherds After My Own Heart (SAMOH) addresses increasing interest among exegetes, biblical theologians, and Chrisitan leaders of all types in the intersection of biblical leadership paradigms and contemporary contexts. In a gathering of theologians in Jerusalem, another scholar questioned me on Scripture’s ongoing relevance: “Doesn’t the Bible reflect antiquated, hierarchical proclivities in ‘high power distance,’ patriarchal cultures?” Questions in less academic settings also express concerns about reinforcing caricatures of “dumb” sheep and heavy-handed leadership. My research points to the irresistible relevance of the biblical shepherding model, which ably corrects these misunderstandings.

For many, of course, servant leadership is the clearest and simplest articulation of biblical leadership. But the Scriptures are much richer, introducing leadership through various metaphors and maxims, and in both normative and narrative genres. Shepherd leadership is the most prominent, comprehensive model in the Bible, running throughout its many layers. It explains the many ways to be either good or bad shepherds. And it’s simultaneously about God’s leadership and ours in the context of his global mission.

1. Genesis of the Research

The curiosity behind Shepherds after My Own Heart²Timothy S. Laniak, Shepherds after My Own Heart: Pastoral Traditions and Leadership in the Bible, NSBT 20 (Leicester: Apollos, 2006). began twenty-five years ago at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary, where I was a biblical theologian for our Lily-funded think tank for seminary presidents.³Center for the Development of Evangelical Leaders (CDEL). Shepherd leadership was the overarching rubric, with Jeremiah 3:15 as our key verse: “I will give you shepherds after my own heart who will lead you with knowledge and understanding.” Seminary leaders repeatedly said they were getting most leadership insights from secular sources and that biblically based books were simply following secular models. There was shared hunger for something deeper and more biblical.

In preparation for an upcoming sabbatical, I spent two years pouring through Bible passages and secondary literature touching on literal and figurative herding. I also explored the power of metaphor, which was being recognized across disciplines as fundamental to human thought and language. The paragraph I wouldn’t surrender in word-count reduction surveyed functionally equivalent terms to metaphors: paradigms, schemas, frames, prisms, images, symbols, epistemes, implicit theories, representations, cognitive maps, mental models, cultural models, cultural systems, and world hypotheses. This awareness paved the way for appreciating the sensory, rational, and imaginative trigger power of culturally rich figurative language.

As Research Professor at the Albright Institute for Archaeological Research in Jerusalem (2003–2004), I began ethnoarchaeological investigations among Bedouin tribes while using the resource reservoirs of the École Biblique and Hebrew University. I was astounded that something so central to the Bible—especially for “pastoral” identity(!)—lacked a comprehensive resource for the academy or the church. This void kept my intention alive to produce a resource edifying for pastors and any Christian leaders seeking to follow and lead biblically.

2. Shepherds after My Own Heart

2.1. OT Precedents and Anticipation

SAMOH begins with surveys of metaphor theory and pastoral realities and roles common throughout the ancient Levant. I then examine metaphorical shepherd epithets for rulers in ancient texts. Shepherd was by far the most common term for leaders, especially rulers preferring to be known as “faithful shepherd” on behalf of their gods. Royal ideology routinely extolled shepherd kings for their ample provision and wise laws (internally) and courageous protection (externally).

When the Bible adopts this terminology, it is applied to both God and Israel’s leaders, beginning with Moses and David. Themes from neighboring societies are similar, though YHWH is the more prominent Shepherd of Israel; his delegates are subordinate. These prototypical figures feature prominently, with explicit echoes in their successors.

Moses represents God’s shepherd leadership in the Exodus, at Sinai, and across deserts to the promised land. Specific herding terminology becomes clear as God leads—sometimes gently (נהל), by driving (נהג) or guiding (נחה), occasionally through visible presence (cloud and fire), and, in perpetuity, by the Torah. Primary shepherding roles of provision, protection, and guidance consistently shape the leadership of the God purposefully present among them. And the prophetic-priestly-shepherd Moses programmatically mediates this divine shepherding.

Like Moses, archetypal king David comes from a literal shepherding background. Both were called from their herds to lead God’s flock (Ps 77:20; 78:70–72). The historical books’ cautious posture toward human monarchy avoids calling David the shepherd of Israel (as expected in the ancient Near East). He is called to shepherd (verb) God’s flock and, like Saul, to be a נג׳ד—a term subtly emphasizing a delegated role to the divine Shepherd. David’s lapses into royal pretense—typical for ancient rulers—were met with prophetic rebuke and a shepherd’s remorse (2 Sam 12:1–12; 24:17).

The structure and content of the psalter reinforce the view that monarchy in Israel was always subordinate to divine rule. “YHWH reigns” is the overarching theme. The subordinate theme—only present after centuries in the promised land—was a delegated Davidic ruler leading as an extension of God’s rule. The most fundamental principle of shepherd leadership can be summarized in Psalm 23:1: “The Lord is my shepherd.” Israel’s king was first a sheep. There would be centuries of exile when kings in this chosen line—along with prophets, priests, and elders—were not faithful as under-shepherds.

Several prophets build a vision of the future featuring a second exodus with a Mosaic figure and a uniquely qualified Davidic ruler. Isaiah is a rich resource, highlighting Israel’s predicted return from exile under the leadership of the divine Shepherd they once knew in the wilderness. Pastoral imagery includes terms for God’s presence, provision, protection, and guidance (Isa 40:1–11). In the new creation Isaiah describes, YHWH will gather to Israel “still others” (Isa 56:8), making up the global flock of God Jesus will later call “other sheep” (John 10:16).

Jeremiah and Ezekiel likewise contribute visions of a second exodus, including searing critique of false shepherds who misled God’s flock. In fact, most shepherd leadership references in both Testaments are prophetic pronouncements of judgment on “misleaders” (a.k.a. wolves). Ezekiel 34 provides the most sustained analogue of Israel’s mismanaged mission by under-shepherds. YHWH personally—emphasized repeatedly with the emphatic first-person pronoun—rescues his brutalized and scattered flock and then places them in the care of נש׳א David once again. Both prophets, like Isaiah, locate promises of the flock’s return, rescue, and restoration in the context of a renewed Spirit-empowered covenant.

Zechariah continues prophetic critique of worthless misleaders (or “no shepherds”), including prophets, priests, kings, and all those abusing power (“goats” in 10:3; cf. Ezek 34:17). Echoes of the first exodus abound; YHWH will rescue his flock again. Zechariah’s contribution is remarkable in its specificity regarding both a suffering and militant shepherd. The prophet describes a future when a divine shepherd will be pierced (12:10) and his sheep scattered (13:7). But he will lead them again, as we shall soon see.

2.2. NT Fulfillment and Reset

Each Gospel picks up Old Testament themes about the divine shepherd—his rescue and gathering of a scattered flock, sacrificial care, calling of representative under-shepherds, and critique of Israel’s false shepherds. Each connects pastoral elements to second exodus motifs of desert, feeding (bread and water), Holy Spirit, and new covenant.

Likely the first Gospel, Mark portrays Jesus as the serving and suffering shepherd, hyperlinked throughout to Old Testament passages about YHWH and the coming messiah. In feeding miracles in chapters 6–8 that take place in desert or deserted places (ἔρημος), Mark mentions bread eighteen times—both being themes of the desert sojourn. He tracks closely with Zechariah’s predictions of a royal shepherd who is “struck” and his sheep “scattered” (Mark 14:27). Jesus uses a herding term (προέρχομαι ) in his promise to “go before” his disciples into Galilee after his resurrection (Mark 14:28).

With almost 300 Old Testament allusions, Matthew builds his portrait of Christ as new Moses and Son of David with sustained hyperlinks to these prototypical figures and to the Isaianic suffering servant. More than other Synoptics, he deploys shepherd language for Jesus’s identity, ministry, and death. He is the compassionate shepherd for those in need—the last, least, and little ones—and for shepherd-less sheep who are “troubled” and “downcast.” Matthew alone states it is not the shepherd’s will that any should be lost (Matt 18:14).

Jesus sends the Twelve out “like sheep among wolves” (Matt 10:16; cf. 7:15) to spread a kingdom always threatened by malevolent forces. In Matthew’s unique parable in chapter 25, the messianic royal-shepherd separates sheep and goats in final judgment. This recognition that a shepherd is known for both mercy and judgment echoes Ezekiel 34.

Shepherd imagery is easily at home in Luke where Jesus is presented as a seeking and saving shepherd (19:10). Luke features the shepherds in Bethlehem early, reinforcing rustic and royal ties to shepherd king David. The parable of the lost sheep in Luke 15 is tied to parables of lost coins and lost son(s)—each emphasizing lostness (ἀπόλλυμι). These mashals highlight the priority in Jesus’ ministry on gathering (συνάγω) those who are scattered (σκορπίζω), especially the poor, lost, and outsiders.

Luke alone records Jesus authorizing seventy/seventy-two disciples to go “like lambs among wolves” (10:3; cf 12:32), again announcing God’s kingdom’s arrival and pronouncing judgment on those resisting it. Paul’s speech in Luke’s sequel reinforces the disciples’ identity as both followers and leaders: “Keep watch over yourselves and all the flock of which the Holy Spirit has made you overseers. Be shepherds of the church of God, which he bought with his own blood” (Acts 20:28). He continues by warning of wolves who will certainly arise among them.

John’s unique portrait leverages an “I am” statement in the Good Shepherd parable of John 10. This shepherd—whose sheep come to the one who knows them by name—protects them from wolves even at the cost of his life. Again, we recognize the shepherd-like combination of intimate care for the flock, on one hand, and courageous protection from predators on the other. John the Baptizer introduces Jesus as the “Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29). Centuries of Passover celebration anticipated this climax to Christ’s ministry at the cross, when the Shepherd of the Exodus becomes the Passover lamb. With a vision to gather “the scattered children of God” (11:52), Jesus calls Peter three times to shepherd his flock and feed his sheep (21:15–19).

Two remaining New Testament books focus on shepherd leadership. First Peter, like other general epistles, was written to those living as sojourners and exiles (2:11) in “the scattering” (διασπορά; 1:1). Among their heroes is Abraham whose transient life as sojourning shepherd was marked by faith (Heb 11:8–19; Jas 2:21–23). First Peter ends with an appeal as fellow elder to shepherd God’s flock with care, without profit motive, and with respect for the Chief Shepherd to whom they will give account (5:1–4).

The climax of our pastoral theology comes from Revelation where the lion ruler is also the slain lamb, and both are combined in the shepherd whose presence involves provision, protection, and guidance.

They are before the throne of God and serve him day and night in his temple; and he who sits on the throne will shelter them with his presence. Never again will they hunger; never again will they thirst. The sun will not beat down on them, nor any scorching heat. For the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd; he will lead them to springs of living water. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes. (Rev 7:15–17)

3. Insights and Implications

Before this book was published in 2006, I began speaking on spiritual shepherding at conferences and consultations. I shared stories and pictures from interviews among Bedouin shepherds to infuse modern urban-dweller imaginations. The interest exceeded what one would expect from cultural novelty. It aroused an existential sense of alignment with a deep, historic calling for all of us in ministry leadership. Students in MDiv and DMin programs began using SAMOH as a text for pastoral identity and work. Some ministries changed the language and imagery of their mission.

As a result of this broad interest, I created a forty-day illustrated journey using categories of provision, protection, and guidance. Originally While Shepherds Watch Their Flocks, it is republished as The Good Shepherd. ShepherdLeader.com was launched with leader forums to discuss topics in both books. The topic resonated for a variety of Christian leaders. Clearly, the contextual and exegetical work of biblical theology was paying dividends personally and professionally for many, as it had for me. This was true outside the US as well. Not surprisingly, leaders in Africa resonated with a more culturally relevant and comprehensively biblical model than best-practice and principle handbooks from the West.

To round off this summary are a few more insights now tested by research, practice, and feedback. The metaphor of shepherd is a micro-narrative tied directly to the biblical meta-narrative. It is a zipped file that, when opened, connects to whole-Bible traditions like creation/new creation, covenant/new covenant, and especially exodus/second exodus. In the biblical epic, God is the Shepherd, but he persists in calling and recalling human leaders, like Moses and David, to shepherd his flock. This reflects the “divine preference for human agency.” It is one of the most compelling features of human identity, beginning at ground zero in creation.

One specific aspect of this larger storyline is how the wilderness serves as a paradigm for our journey to the promised land. As the perpetual celebration of Booths and Revelation 7’s vision reminds us, the wilderness itself is a unique place for God’s presence, provision, protection, and guidance. While the garden of Eden and Jerusalem’s temple anticipated heaven, so too did the desert journey. The wilderness is, figuratively, the context for our following and our leading.

While these lofty intertextual connections provide biblical gravity to our understanding, several other actionable insights readily emerge. One is that shepherding holds together both compassionate service and the courageous and appropriate use of authority. More than “switching hats,” this insight is rooted deeply in God’s character; he is both merciful and just, gracious and holy. He leads with both staff and rod. And we, his sheep, need both. As a shepherd, Paul was both: “What do you prefer? Shall I come to you with a rod of discipline, or shall I come in love and with a gentle spirit?” (1 Cor 4:21). This mix is clearly missing in the servant leadership model.

There is something to be said about switching hats, however. Literal shepherds model constant adaptation to a diverse and evolving role set. In societies that value specialization, generalists are more necessary, though often valued less. Pastors manage boards, funerals, weddings, fundraising, educational programs, hospital visits, conflicts, and regular preaching—several of these functions often on the same day, and often without recognition. Many of us are spiritual shepherds in other settings without a simple, singular role. Being a parent is an obvious example. We need to embrace needs both constant and episodic, challenges from unexpected places, and overall changes in the landscape and composition of our flocks. After a seminary graduation one student told me she had spent twenty-five years in youth ministry, then successfully engaged a demanding MDiv, and only recently discovered the flock God was now calling her to: two aging parents with dementia who needed her to be their shepherd through the valley of the shadow of death. She understood her shepherd’s calling.

While there are many ways to express shepherd leadership, the Scriptures also invite us to consider multiple metaphors to complement the central ones like shepherd, servant, steward, and son. Paul was a mid-wife, father, mother, farmer, soldier, builder, athlete, vessel, and elder. These all reinforce a “responsibility for” (flock, family, resources) and “a responsibility to” (the divine owner). Various images of God also reinforce his fundamental posture among his people: gardener, architect, potter, king, warrior, and father. The mixing of metaphors only increases Scripture’s variegated vision of leadership—both divine and human.

We can follow Paul’s example with contextual metaphors that resonate today, as long as alignment with biblical metaphor meanings is retained. Terms like wounded healer, coach, and mentor translate nuances resident in Scripture’s many metaphors. However, the statement by pastors of large churches, “I am not a shepherd; I am a leader (or rancher),” misunderstands how useful the shepherd metaphor is, regardless of context and size.

I had wondered going into this research if we should seek a contemporary “dynamic equivalent” for modern urbanites. However, the metaphor’s tenacity across genres, authors, and time periods convinced me the shepherd model was worth representing in its own vernacular. It deserves a cross-cultural trip into a world that was integral to our spiritual forebears’ landscape. I have watched leaders come alive as spiritual shepherds in diverse denominational cultures and ministries including counseling, recovery, disciple-making, church-planting, and peace-making. I have no doubt now that shepherds are here to stay.

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