Maybe One Goat In Hell?

For years now, I have taken exception with several priests, who have insisted on characterizing goats as stubborn, mischievous, and evil.  They seem to fall into this error, as they try to unpack Christ's parable of the final judgement. Matthew 26: 32, 33  "And he will separate them one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats.  He will place the sheep on his right and the goats on his left."  Those on the left are later banished, "Depart from me, you accursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels."  Matt. 26:42

My complaint is that Christ's point is simply that there is a difference: a difference between a goat and a sheep, as there is a difference between someone who lives for Christ, and someone who does not.  The urban view of goats just naturally makes an easy target for a homily on unacceptable behavior, which is bound to land you in hell.  For the most part though, I have found goats to be good natured, trainable, and humorous.   I have raised both sheep and goats, and if I had to send either to hell, it would surely be the sheep, with one exception, "Redneck". 

I started writing this blog at 2:30 am after returning from my dental office, where I cut-off my wedding ban of 37 years.  Earlier in the day I had attempted to give two of my three goats their worming medicine.  Redneck, named for her reddish brown neck on her otherwise white coat, has always been a tad skittish.  I had her penned in a stall.  Just as I grabbed her collar, she broke away, and jammed my ring finger.  It hurt, but I hoped I could walk it off.  I kept hoping until pain woke me at 1:30 a.m., and my ring was obviously tighter against the slightly swollen finger.  Luckily I have high speed drills at my office, in which a diamond-chip burr cuts through metal rather easily.

I will always take exception to this common clerical cut on goats, but if I am unable to register my complaint, I'll just figure he's referring to Redneck.

Belle, Rudy, and R.J.

Belle, Rudy, and R. J. were some of the best pets I ever had, and they were goats.

My first goat, Belle, was a black, brown and white Nubian (the kind with long floppy ears). I purchased her as a project for my children to produce goat milk. The first thing I learned about goats, and sheep for that matter, is that they are herd animals and need company. Just as I was about to be cited by my neighborhood for having a screaming solitary goat, she solved her problem. She had two adorable kids. We learned to milk Belle, played with her kids, and sold them to a friend.

To get the milk operation back up, and solve Belle’s increasing bleating, we mated Belle. We hoped she might throw three kids, so we might try some goat meat. She only had one, and we decided to keep him as company for Belle. He was a beautiful tan color, so we named him Rudy.

Rudy was all play, loved sweet corn, and quickly grew in excess of two hundred and fifty pounds. Once he ripped his side flank open on a nail while rubbing against the walls of the barn. It was our first and only home-visit by the vet, who promptly asked, “Who is responsible for this obese goat?” Rudy would play by standing on his hind legs, rear back, and lean his forehead into you: a slow-motion butt.

My wife and I went to Ireland for our 25^th anniversary. On our return, we were greeted at the airport with the sad news, “Rudy had hung himself!” Evidently, he had lost his footing while reaching for some honey suckles on the back fence, and his collar got stuck on the fence. He hung there for two days until my son found him.

About the same time, a neighboring pig farmer had inherited a 4-H goat. The farmer didn’t have any other goats, and Belle needed the company, so I offered to keep the 4-H goat. It had coloring very similar to Rudy, and had won 1^st place in the County Fair. We named it RJ, for Rudy Junior, and he got along great with Belle.

Belle eventually passed away. Now, to keep RJ company, I thought I might get a sheep and try producing some lamb. Another friend had been raising lambs for years, so I purchased a young female. She was skittish, flighty, most unfriendly, and pregnant. She would always stay two lengths behind RJ, as RJ could never get enough pets and rubs. R.J. was another lovable goat. There was a natural calmness in placing my forehead against R.J.’s, all the while keeping eye contact with those wide-set peaceful eyes.

The sheep gave me two lambs, which were great in the freezer. We bred her again, and she had one lamb, which we also took to market. R.J. eventually went lame with hoof rot, and both he and the sheep went to their earthly judgment: the livestock auction.

I tell this short story in an attempt to defend the reputation of goats. Goats have been a convenient target of failed judgment from the scripture of the Final Judgment. Both Roman rite and Eastern rite priests have consistantly painted the image of the ornery, smelly, disobedient, and impossible goat. The connection is made that these supposed characteristics of goats, in people, will place you to the left, and doomed. “And he will separate them one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will place the sheep on his right and the goats on his left… ( Matt 25: 32-33).

Instead of Christ actually making a character judgment on goats; could it be, might it be, that all Christ meant, is that there is a difference? As easily, and matter of fact, as a shepherd, or I, can tell the difference between goats and sheep, so to, will Christ be able to tell “the difference” between: those who have lived for Christ, and those who have rejected Him. There is a difference between those who accept Truth, and those who knowingly accept a credible lie. Could it be as simple as, “there is a difference”? God knows!