As a lifelong sufferer of allergies, I don't have a problem with this. I have felt the wool build in my sinuses and creep into my brain. Pollen, snot, and all possibility of coherent thought getting caught in the soft fibers until it turns into thick felt that lets nothing through.
Like
that sheep video, you manage to get everything cleared out, and it fills right back up again. It starts with the trees. Oh, how I hate tree pollen. Right now, it's maple, juniper, and hickory, 11.4/12. The wool is filling my upper sinuses, pushing against my eyes, and threatening that part of my brain that helps me write good satire articles. There is no brain. There is only wool.
Next, it will be the grasses and their enablers, the people with their infrequent mowing who wait until the grass has seeded out and then throw it in the air. The sheep in my sinuses prance around, digging their sharp little hooves into my skull, pushing my eyes until the tears run. Not cool, cleansing tears, but hot tears, filled with tiny bits of grass seed that burn and scratch.
Later, it will be the Russian thistle and the black-eyed Susans. By that time, my head is too filled with wool for any more to fit. My entire head is just enveloped by an entire flock of sheep.
So, yes. I believe pastors can refer to their congestion as sheep. But not only clergy can suffer from allergies—anyone can. Don't be surprised to look out over your church this spring and see your entire
congregation has turned to sheep. It's not your preaching. It's the pollen.