Notes on Not Being Christian Anymore

David Salazar

If Jesus is the shepherd of men, then I am a sheep purposefully getting away. There is no accident and there is no rescue. I will escape his farm and I will become something else than his follower. I want something greater than that. To wrestle with something greater than that. Jesus will keep me fed and warm for the rest of my days, along with the other sheep, but I do not want food and safety and only that. I want meaning. Meaning finds itself across the crevices of the meadows, other strayed sheep nodding in understanding, joining me in a long path toward something greater than simple warmth. When Jesus comes looking for us, he won’t find us. He won’t find us among the grass and the pebbles; he won’t find us among the words of worship for something greater than a shepherd. A group of sheep without a master is simply trying to find its way; a group of sheep without a shepherd is looking for a master who will provide more than dry straw. One day someone will feed us grass, dewy from the morning light.