There’s a sweet medieval Jewish work of eco-spirituality called Perek Shira, Nature’s Songbook. The author describes creation as a choir. Every animal sings a different Biblical verse.

Sheep chant mi chamocha ba’eilim HaShem – who is like you among the princes, HaShem?

Why?

The Artscroll edition offers a theory. Sheep are prey. They have no defenses against predators. So, they only survive because God is awesome.

This is a terrible description of sheep. Actually, sheep have many means of defense. Their hearing and vision are hyper-acute. Sheep can pinpoint the exact source of a sound. They use each ear independently. Some breeds can see 300 degrees – almost a complete circle — around their bodies. And they share information through body language. When one wise sheep senses danger, an entire flock can move in unison. If they’re wild sheep, they can walk right up a sheer vertical rockface, where no predator can follow.

Sure, to a large mammal, a sheep looks like dinner. But to a plant, a sheep looks like a fierce predator. Normally, plants defend themselves with bark, burrs, thorns, and shells. But none of these deter sheep. Sheep will eat an entire fruit tree – bark, shells, and all.

So why do well-defended, predatory sheep say Mi chamocha ba’eilim HaShem?

Here’s my theory. Because their lives are closely aligned with the lives of the Israelites, the family of Jacob.

Torah devotes eight chapters to the coming-of-age story of the young shepherd Jacob. He and Esau are the twin sons of wealthy shepherds. Jacob, the younger twin, is described in Hebrew as tam – perfect. And he likes the shelter of tents. Esau, the elder, who happens to be unusually hairy, prefers hunting in the great outdoors. Esau and Jacob struggle over the birthright.

So, Jacob leaves town to get away from his brother and to find a wife. He meets the shepherd women Rachel and Leah. Rachel has beautiful form and Leah has weak eyes. They live with their father Laban.  Jacob tries to marry Rachel, but Laban insists that he marry Leah first. As Jacob matures, he becomes a master sheep breeder. Eventually, he separates from his father-in-law to start his own successful business. He encounters his brother Esau, who is now a wealthy landowner. Jacob is still afraid of his older brother. But he wrestles with his phantom, changes his name to Israel, and reconciles with Esau.

But Jacob’s story is also the coming-of-age story of a young sheep.

If you were a shepherd, you would have seen this right away. I myself saw it clearly after reading only 70 pages of Storey’s Guide to Raising Sheep. So, pay attention. Note that all the English translations of of our ancestors’ Hebrew names are literal.

Two little sheep are born, named Wooly (Esau) and Follower (Jacob). Follower is a shepherd’s dream lamb. He is tam, perfectly formed with no physical imperfections. Wooly, however, is born with wool on his face and legs. Shepherds don’t really like this condition. The wool is coarse, hard to shear, and impossible to sell. Shepherds consider it a plus only if the sheep have to live outdoors most of the time. So that’s what Wooly does. He lives most of his life outdoors.

When Follower matures, he sets out on his own.  So he can find a mate from a neighboring flock. And so he won’t have to compete with Wooly. At a watering hole, Follower meets a small flock of sheep. Two females named Ewe (Rachel) and Wild Mama (Leah), and their father, Whitey (Laban). Ewe is yefat toar, literally, beautifully formed. Like Follower, she was born with what shepherds call “good conformance.” Wild Mama has a non-fatal birth defect troubling to shepherds. Her inverted eyelids cause her eyes to tear.

Follower falls instantly in love with Ewe and wants to mate with her. But Whitey, the dominant male, has other ideas. He pushes Follower to have many lambs with Wild Mama. Eventually, Whitey allows Follower to mate with Ewe. As expected, they produce a lamb with perfect conformance, who fetches a very high price when he is later sold in Egypt.

Over time, Follower becomes a fully mature ram. He decides he’s ready to set out on his own with his flock. But he smells Wooly in the air and his hormones kick in. Even though he hasn’t seen Wooly yet, he fights for dominance with a phantom. He feels that he wins. After all these years, he is finally the dominant male of his flock. He lets go of his birth name, Follower. He calls himself Wrestler Prince (Israel).

The sons of Wrestler Prince stay together in a single large flock. But they, too, struggle for dominance and independence. Eventually, the flock migrates to Egypt to graze in the fertile land of Goshen. Egyptians enslave them. But their shepherd Moses leads them to freedom across the Red Sea. He points the way with his shepherd’s staff.

Torah states explicitly that sheep are part of the Exodus. Pharaoh tells Moses, “Take your sheep and cattle and go!” And the voice of the narrator reports that “600,000 adult males, sheep and cows and a great load of livestock” left together.

Of course sheep sing Mi chamocha! They sing it after crossing the Red Sea.

Are these singing sheep the Israelites themselves or the livestock raised by the Israelites? Who knows!

Lines blur.

Are we uniquely human? Because we can be sheepish, foxy, chicken, catty, dogged, hawkish, dovish, and more.

Are we literally what we eat? Completely shaped by our food system?

Sheep were our ancestors’ food. The sheep crossed the Red Sea. So did they also stand at Mt. Sinai? Were they part of the covenant?

Finally: are we both sheep and shepherd, looking out for each other? All under the supervision of the Great Shepherd in the sky?

Mi chamocha ba’eilim Hashem.

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Photo: Springrock Shadrach by Blake, neverwinterfarm.wordpress.com. Offered as a dvar Torah at Congregation Beth Israel. November 30, 2019. Updated version of “Our Ancestral Sheep.”