I have been one acquainted with the sheep.
I have walked out in fields — and back in fields.
I have outwalked the most experienced Bo Peep.
Robert Frost will have to forgive me my petty theft, but I can think of no better way to describe my adventures as a young boy growing up on a small island in the Pacific Northwest.
Let me explain.
Rather than walk the two miles of county road between the bus stop and our family home, my brother and I would attempt to cut the journey in half by crossing into the Bond Brother’s Farm and navigate the sizable flock of sheep that stood between us and home. Sometimes we succeeded. Other times we should’ve stuck to the county road. If sheep have a mission statement, it is definitely “Strength in numbers.”
Now, as both an attendee of this church and a student of the seminary, I find myself once again confronted with my wooly friends. Only this time, my task is much different. “Feed more sheep.” This community has both challenged and identified itself by these three words. Kingston United Methodist has understood the Gospel to be a commissioning in which the life and breath of its congregation is defined by bearing witness to Christ in fields of faith and doubt; pain and healing; sorrow and joy. Although my wife, Charley, and I have only recently entered into the life of this church, we have both felt a strong sense of identification with this calling. And so the question is important: what am I doing to feed more sheep?
I find it significant that the word “sheep” is both singular and plural. One doesn’t shepard sheeps, and my brother and I weren’t terrified of those angry sheepen. No, when we speak of one sheep, our very language includes all sheep. In fact, when imagining sheep, I have a difficult time envisioning just one. Sheep are sheep. There truly is strength in their numbers.
And so when Jesus shares the Parable of the Lost Sheep in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, I can’t help but imagine what the words of the Good Shepard might have been on the return home. “What are you doing here isolated from the others? Aren’t you aware of your place with them? I did not give you life so that you could live it as an individual. I made you a sheep, and sheep are sheep.”
So here is my answer to the question: what am I doing to feed more sheep? Well, I live as a sheep among sheep, recognizing that as an individual, I am only a shadow of the life to which I am called. As an individual, I can only attempt to bear witness to a God revealed in community. But as a member of the flock, I point to the Good Shepard and say, “I am a sheep, and sheep are sheep.” Amen
February 20, 2026
