18 November

On the Journey

                            The Presence of the Good Shepherd—

              I found myself running all over the place Sunday morning between 10:00 and 10:35. First, I was under orders to have my eye out for our guest, Renée Martin.  Renée and her husband, Terry, were scheduled to arrive by 9:45, but as often happens, they were delayed.

              I was in a rush to get their stuff unloaded and into the building in time for Renée to go through a sound check. Yet, before we could do the sound check, she had to burn a disc with the two selections she planned to sing. While this was going on, I was glancing at my watch every few seconds, for I needed to get back to my office.

              Finally, about 10:25, I jumped on the elevator and headed back to my office. As I stepped off the elevator, Lauren Adams, a reporter for WPSD, yelled at me as she was coming through the doorway near Clark School. Lauren was here to do a story on our congregation as we approach the anniversary of the fire that began our season of displacement. She wanted to shoot some footage in the sanctuary. Hurriedly, she conducted her interview, the camera operator took his shots, and I managed to get them to the worship space by 10:35 to set-up to cover a portion of our worship experience.

              I still needed to get to my office. I sprinted up the stairs and into my office, gathered my things, rushed back down the stairs, wired myself up with my microphone, and cleared my throat to make the announcements. I stole a look at my watch. It was 10:43. There was no time to spare, and no time to center myself before the prelude. From that moment, we walked slowly through a service of worship that was inspiring, personal, and encouraging as we drew near to our heavenly Father who came to be with us.

              After service, I retreated to my office. As I sat down at my desk, I immediately noticed something that had not been there earlier in the morning. In the midst of the scattered papers and books, there appeared a sculpture of a shepherd. He was carved out of a beautiful piece of wood. There was no note to explain his appearance.

              All week I have worked at my desk under the gaze of this shepherd. For me, this sculpture depicts Jesus, the Good Shepherd, who vigilantly watches over the sheep of his flock. The unexpected appearance of the wooden shepherd on my desk reminded me of the words of Jesus recorded by John: “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. The hired hand is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep. So when he sees the wolf coming, he abandons the sheep and runs away. Then the wolf attacks the flock and scatters it. The man runs away because he is a hired hand and cares nothing for the sheep. I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me—just as the Father knows me and I know the Father—and I lay down my life for the sheep.” The presence of the good shepherd, Jesus, has comforted and encouraged me—Jesus knows me and I know him.

              The presence of the wooden shepherd has challenged me this week. As the pastor of Immanuel, I have been called by Jesus and by you to serve as your shepherd. The shepherd has a lamb under his arm reminding me that I am to care for the people of this flock. There is a staff in the shepherd’s hand. Sheep often have to be found, rescued, and defended. This wooden shepherd reminds me of my responsibility to you. You may pay my salary, but I am not a hireling. I will not run away when the wolf comes. I will stand alongside you. I will shelter you in my arms. I will tend your wounds. I will whisper words of comfort and encouragement, faith and hope, peace and joy into your ears when you have the most difficulty hearing those words. I will remind you that Jesus, the Good Shepherd, is always present—mending, redeeming, restoring, and resurrecting lives mangled both by the wolves of the world and by our own foolishness.

              I don’t know who placed the wooden shepherd on my desk, but I thank you. He stands in the place where you left him, and I have no desire to move him to another place. I study his face, and I pray. I look at the lamb he holds and remember the calling I received from Jesus to be a shepherd of his people. I see the staff in his hand, and I know I have been called to lay down my life for you. I am not a hireling. I refuse to be. I love the Good Shepherd and his flock called Immanuel.

              I offer my prayer of thanksgiving to God that the One who knows us best has decreed that we should live, worship, serve, and rejoice together as we make our journey of faith. As the wooden shepherd has watched over me this week, I hope that the knowledge that I am watching over you makes you aware of the presence of the Good Shepherd who is above you, below you, around you, and within you. Peace.jamie