Levin the good shepherd

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The lost sheep and its redeemer form a pet motif in Christianity. Jesus portrayed himself as a good shepherd many times. He said that the good shepherd will leave his 99 sheep in order to bring the lost sheep back to the fold. When he finds the lost sheep, the shepherd is happier about that one sheep than about the 99, Jesus claimed. He was speaking metaphorically. The lost sheep is the sinner in Jesus’ parable. Sin is a departure from the ‘right’ way. Angels raise a toast in heaven whenever a sinner returns to the ‘right’ path [Luke 15:10].

A lot of Catholic priests I know carry some sort of a Redeemer complex in their souls. They love the sinner so much that they cannot rest until they make the angels of God run for their cups of joy.

I have also been fortunate to have one such priest-friend whom I shall call Levin in this post. He has befriended me right from the year 1976 when I was a blundering adolescent and he was just one year older than me. He possessed the maturity of a Messiah at the age of 17. As we grew older, his fascination with my erring ways snowballed. I must have been some sort of a curio for him, I assume. Or, maybe, he is such a good shepherd that lost sheep are his raison d'être.

I loved the attention he showered on me all along. The birthday cards, the personalised messages on occasions like Christmas, his self-sacrificing readiness to meet me at the railway station when I was travelling through his place, the special food packets he brought along on such occasions, the trips we made together… That’s a long list. Such friends are rare.

Levin never hesitates to express his view in very clear terms even if it may sound hurtful to the listener. He will never resort to euphemism if he has to speak about a spade. Keenly perceptive as he is, his opinions can be like deadly arrows that penetrate through all shields of defence that one may put up in unpleasant situations. He hits the bull’s eye most of the time. But he will be there with you after that, the good shepherd with his magic wand and also with the redeemer’s abiding compassion. He knows what he is doing. He knows that he is a shepherd with the mission of bringing the lost sheep back to the fold.  

He visited us – Maggie and me – when I was navigating the perilous contours of the hell that Reverend Machiavelli [more about him in next post] had hurled me into. He stayed with us for a few days and carried out his research in North Eastern Hill University [NEHU]. Before leaving us, he gifted me a few books on Foucault, Derrida and others who never made any sense to me then or later. I liked Foucault’s metaphor of the Panopticon, however. I was caught in a Panopticon when Levin was visiting us.

When I wrote a prelude to the A2Z series of which this post is a part, Levin was quick to warn me of the pitfalls of hindsight. What we call hindsight can be just a veil for hubris, he texted me. I hope I have succeeded in steering clear of my intrinsic hubris in these posts. I did my best anyway. One problem with priestly Redeemers is that they are not as eager to appreciate the good you do as to point their finger at the sins you commit. Levin is no exception.

Levin is a good friend, however. He will point out the possible pitfalls on your way. He warns you well in time. In spite of that, if you happen to walk into the pit, he will stretch out his arm to pull you out.

We have little in common, Levin and I. He is a Catholic priest and I am a nonbeliever who wears his atheism on his sleeve. He is an intellectual who loves dialectics and hermeneutics while I love the spirit that froths in a drink of whisky and the dance of fireflies in the twilight. Yet he was there with me all along for reasons that I can only ‘conjecture’ (one of his favourite words). 

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Whenever I think of Levin, the image that tends to rise in my mind, more than that of the good shepherd, is that of the guardian angel as described by my mother when I was a young boy. I had to cross a river in order to go to school. Those were days when even little children walked their way on their own. Nobody would kidnap them and rape them as it happens nowadays with alarming frequency in spite of the increasing number of good shepherds of all possible hues and shades. The bridge across the village river was made of wooden planks. Many planks were broken and a few were just not there. “Walk carefully,” my mother would advise me before I left for school, “and know that your guardian angel is there with you preventing your fall.” I never fell into the river at any time from that bridge. Children have more sense than adults.

People like me are destined to fall in life many times, however. Levin knew that. Hubris is the cause. So he decided to be my guardian angel and my good shepherd. Without the judgmental self-righteousness that usually accompanies the Redeemers. I know he was not judgmental. And it is quite impossible to be a Catholic priest without a good measure of self-righteousness.

Some people are condemned to learn certain basic lessons of life the hard way. If you are one of them, you will have it tough all along the way. On the way, you will meet people who will look down upon you from their high perches where they reached because of their cleverness and ability to get away with things. Having never found their own lights, they will only want to put out your own little light which is not to their liking. Levin is different. He carries his own light and he lets you find your own. I know he is a genuine friend. Never mind the good shepherd and the guardian angel. 

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