These winter days remind me of lambing season many years ago. Our family started raising sheep when my Dad brought home an orphaned ewe lamb named Betty sometime in the early 1960's. Betty had no pedigree. She was our pet lamb. From that single sheep, we eventually assembled a flock of 25-30 sheep.
I can still picture my Dad shearing each sheep by hand--the old fashioned way--no electric equipment. He used a blade shears, bending over each sheep as he worked. I remember how sore his hands and back became every spring at shearing time.
Today, I remember the late night trips to the barn, which was some five miles away from our home. We would drive back to the barn to check on the sheep often in lambing season before we went to bed. The barn had no electricity, so we carried lanterns which gave off a little heat as well as light. You could always see your breath in the barn on those winter nights. It was a quiet, peaceful place with sheep all around, chewing their cuds and dozing.
Often those trips back to the barn were uneventful, but every now and then a ewe was giving birth. Sometimes there were complications. My Dad always knew what to do when the delivery was difficult. I saw him revive many a lamb that others would have given up for dead.
There is something about raising those sheep that has helped to form me as a pastor of the church. All the business and technology models for ministry do not really resonate with me. My roots are in the agrarian life. My care for congregations was formed by observing the shepherd care for his sheep on cold winter nights. His commitment to the well-being of the sheep was evident as we left the warmth of our home to make the trip back to the damp chill of the barn.
When I consider the ministry to which I am called, the model of the shepherd still informs my practice. Ministry is not so much about management as it is about listening to the sighs and watching for the signs of new life. It is about protecting the flock and working for its well-being. It is about calling others to congregate in community. It is about knowing the names, perceiving the needs, and loving them all--no matter what.
Today, I give thanks that I am still surrounded by shepherds (150 active ministers in the New Hampshire Conference). And, I give thanks that we all have a Shepherd--a Good Shepherd--who has come to lead us to green pastures and abundant life, who calls us together when we wander away, who gives himself in love for the world. We have a Shepherd! Thanks be to God!
A benediction from Hebrews:
Now may the God of peace who brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus, the great shepherd of the sheep, by the blood of the eternal covenant, equip you with everything good that you may do his will, working in you that which is pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ; to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.
I can still picture my Dad shearing each sheep by hand--the old fashioned way--no electric equipment. He used a blade shears, bending over each sheep as he worked. I remember how sore his hands and back became every spring at shearing time.
Today, I remember the late night trips to the barn, which was some five miles away from our home. We would drive back to the barn to check on the sheep often in lambing season before we went to bed. The barn had no electricity, so we carried lanterns which gave off a little heat as well as light. You could always see your breath in the barn on those winter nights. It was a quiet, peaceful place with sheep all around, chewing their cuds and dozing.
Often those trips back to the barn were uneventful, but every now and then a ewe was giving birth. Sometimes there were complications. My Dad always knew what to do when the delivery was difficult. I saw him revive many a lamb that others would have given up for dead.
There is something about raising those sheep that has helped to form me as a pastor of the church. All the business and technology models for ministry do not really resonate with me. My roots are in the agrarian life. My care for congregations was formed by observing the shepherd care for his sheep on cold winter nights. His commitment to the well-being of the sheep was evident as we left the warmth of our home to make the trip back to the damp chill of the barn.
When I consider the ministry to which I am called, the model of the shepherd still informs my practice. Ministry is not so much about management as it is about listening to the sighs and watching for the signs of new life. It is about protecting the flock and working for its well-being. It is about calling others to congregate in community. It is about knowing the names, perceiving the needs, and loving them all--no matter what.
Today, I give thanks that I am still surrounded by shepherds (150 active ministers in the New Hampshire Conference). And, I give thanks that we all have a Shepherd--a Good Shepherd--who has come to lead us to green pastures and abundant life, who calls us together when we wander away, who gives himself in love for the world. We have a Shepherd! Thanks be to God!
A benediction from Hebrews:
Now may the God of peace who brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus, the great shepherd of the sheep, by the blood of the eternal covenant, equip you with everything good that you may do his will, working in you that which is pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ; to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.
