"We need to separate the sheep from the goats."
Of all the King James phrases that people drop into casual conversation, that one always makes me wince. It comes from the Gospel of Matthew, when Jesus says he'll return to divide the sheep from the goats. The faithful sheep will sit on his right hand while the hapless goats will sit on his left.
People use the expression whenever they are asking others to sacrifice — to pass a "commitment test."
I never say it because I'm never sure who's who. I've seen goats fake it as sheep and seen sheep hidden in the hides of goats. When it comes to who is worthy and who isn't, I couldn't tell a sheep from a goat if it bit me on the pituitary.
I thought of this the other day while reading the latest installment in the saga of Mel Gibson. As anyone within earshot of a television set knows, Gibson — a leading hunk and also creator of the movie "The Passion of the Christ" — was caught driving drunk in California. In the tiff that followed, he let loose a drunken tirade against Jews, saying they had started every war and pretty much laying the debacles of the world at their feet. Now, Gibson's publicity machine has moved in to try to quell all the gasps. He says he's sorry. He wants to make amends. That's great.
Still, questions remain.
Is Mel Gibson a good man who simply had a bad day? Or is he a two-faced soul who finally had his mask ripped away?
Is he a sheep, a goat, or a sheep who let his "inner goat" get away from him?
I'm glad I don't have to decide such things.
And if you go back to that "goat and sheep" scripture from Matthew again, I'm not expected to. Separating the sheep from the goats is God's job description, not mine. My job comes up up a little later in the Bible — in The Gospel of John — where Jesus says, "Feed my sheep."
And since — as I said — I've never been able to tell a sheep from Sherpa, I'm treating everybody like a sheep. Even the goats.
Those young toughs who plastered my car with raw eggs in the middle of the night not long ago?
Still sheep.
The gay men and women I know? The fibbers and scofflaws?
More sheep.
The young woman who returned from the abortion doctor — for the second time?
Sorry. Still a sheep.
Every family has a black sheep. But in families, the black sheep are still seen as sheep. The same should go for everyone else we know, family or not. For you can never tell if the thief before you is Ken Lay of Enron or Jean Valjean of "Les Miserables." And unless I misread my instructions as a card-carrying Christian, I need to treat them all as Valjean and let someone else sort it out.
As those well-meaning "shepherds" who try to separate the sheep from the goats — who feel it's their calling to thin the flock and get rid of the ones who lack true resolve?
Well, they're not shepherds at all. They're just confused sheep — like the vandals and the Valjeans.
In short, like all the rest of us.
E-mail: jerjohn@desnews.com