Again, thank you for welcoming me this morning. It is great to be back. I have not been in your sanctuary or your church for many, many years, but it is because of your congregation, going back in time, that the congregation I served for a quarter of a century existed. The way Congregational churches worked back in the 1800s was you didn’t start a new church without the acceptance and the partnership of the congregations that were already in existence in the region. Your church was the leader in this region for the Congregational Church, so thanks be to God for you allowing your sister congregation, First Congregational Church of Columbus, to be born. Thank you. Without you, it never would have happened.

I’m also grateful on this day to be here. One of my dear friends is Pastor Jay Groat and today he’s celebrating his 38th anniversary of ordination. You’ll celebrate him next week. Thank you for doing that. I’ve got to tell you; he absolutely loves you. We get together and you’re all he talks about. To be here with you is such a blessing for me to see you face to face, so thank you. Would you join me in prayer?

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of each one of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our rock and our salvation. Amen.

Sheep, shepherds and sheepdogs. That’s what I’m going to talk about today. Sheep, shepherds and sheepdogs. So, let’s start with sheep. Have you ever thought about this? The church is the only place that I know when referring to someone as a sheep, that is a potentially good thing. In Scripture, there are 114 references to shepherds and sheep. But outside of Scripture, being a sheep, those woolly creatures who follow a person around the countryside, it’s really not something that you yearn to be, right? Like Dodge didn’t name their trucks the Dodge Lamb, right? There’s no football team that I’m aware of anywhere in Ohio or beyond who’s named the Sheep or the Lambs, although the phrase, “the Lambs are slaughtered once again” could be a great headline for any sports journalist, or even better yet, “the Sheep slaughter the Bears.” I mean, I like that one. Think how sheep are described, right? They’re described as mean and stupid and unimaginative, easily led, docile, compliant, easily influenced, not words I associate with this church, as my knowledge of you grows, or any of the Congregational churches I have known. The word “sheep” has even entered the mash-up of words. In 2017, Webster’s Dictionary officially added a word, “sheeple.” Sheeple are people who act like sheep. Now, you may have seen this word. Let’s hope you haven’t used it on Facebook or other things. But it’s a word that describes people who take whatever someone tells them as the truth, right? In divisive times in which we live, sheeple can be manipulated by any side to describe everyone that you deem as failing or whatever you can’t stand, right? So, you just call them sheeple and write them off. That’s not a good thing, OK? They are everywhere, and they’re joked about and poked about every day. Bottom line is most of us would never seek out the title sheep, certainly never seek out to be called a sheeple.

But here is the twist that Scripture feeds us today. Being called sheep is most influenced by who the shepherd is. In the opening meditation you heard that from Ezekiel. You certainly hear it in the Gospel of John as we’re speaking of Jesus. If you have a good shepherd – and we do, the good shepherd is Jesus – then it’s OK to be called sheep. You take pride in following such a shepherd as that. In the Gospel of John, Jesus clearly says there’s a huge difference between the hired hand, as we just heard, and the good shepherd. The hired hand runs away when the wolves show up, but the good shepherd stays and protects and defends his own. He knows his sheep, and they know him. They know his voice, and he will lay down his life for his sheep.

Ezekiel 34 takes us to a different perspective. We heard this in the beginning. It’s a profound difference between a good shepherd and a bad shepherd. The bad shepherd cares for himself and not his flock. He feeds himself and not his flock. He protects those who are weak – no, not at all. He doesn’t seem to care about them at all. A bad shepherd takes off when he feels like it and he loses touch with the flock entirely. In the words of God, of God in Israel, Ezekiel proclaims that God’s sheep will be cared for in the fields and be given the greatest grazing land. If lost, God will find them. If injured, God will bind them up, and none of them will ever be left behind. None of them will be scattered by the good shepherd. Like father, like son. This shepherd from generation to generation is good.

Now, I love the good shepherd in Ezekiel and John, and I declare myself to be a sheep in this good shepherd’s fold. I trust in him to protect and deliver me and mine and yours. When we stay close to our good shepherd, we will not stray or meander all too far. But this is where my view differs from most pastors and members of Congregational flocks that they minister among. You see, I don’t believe that it’s appropriate or correct to call your pastor a shepherd. Stay with me again, because I’m about to introduce the third word. Translated here, I would say that in the 191-year history of your congregation, you have named and claimed 27 pastors, seven remarkable interim pastors, and I hope and pray that they have been good pastors for the most part. We’re all human, so keep that in mind. But I believe that calling a pastor a shepherd is a mistake. It’s an honest mistake, but it’s a mistake – theologically, biblically, and more importantly, practically. While I believe in and celebrate that Pastor Jay is your good pastor through these past two and a half years, I know he has loved you so deeply, I don’t believe he’s your good shepherd. You only have one, and that’s Jesus of Nazareth, our crucified and risen Savior. He is the good shepherd.

So, here’s what I believe. I believe Pastor Jay is a good sheepdog. I do. Personally, I think he’s more of a blend between an Australian sheepdog and a golden retriever. Maybe a golden Aussie, I’m not sure what you would call it, but whatever design of sheepdog you call him, nonetheless, he is a good sheepdog. I joyfully declare to you that he is the 34th sheepdog in a long line of First Congregational sheepdogs. I know this because I’ve been a sheepdog for 40 years myself. I’ve served four years in Cleveland, 36 here in the Columbus area, all in Ohio. So, I know my breed when I see my breed. Let me explain. We sheepdogs, particularly the Old English sheepdogs in the Congregational tradition, clearly direct descendants from the English separationists, the Pilgrims, are known for our good natures, playful temperament. We’re known to be gentle and protective, fiercely committed to fairness and justice for all. We also make excellent family companions. Some call us good pets, but I don’t want to use that in this context. We will gather our flock together at the command of the Good Shepherd and seek to hold them together. We are protective of our own, and we have been known to suffer from separation anxiety when left alone for too long. We also have a sponge-like quality. We soak up knowledge at an impressive rate, and we trust that we lean into the congregation and care for them with compassion as the flock that we have been given. Overall, we’re quick-witted, patient, affectionate. We make great companions for families and individuals alike. And unlike Rex in the film “Babe,” we don’t view the sheep in negative ways – if you’ve seen “Babe” – for the most part. We have our moments. We are more like Babe than we are like rats. We are devoted, intense and loyal, and we will guide the sheep through treacherous terrains, including the death of loved ones, the loss of meaning in your lives, traumas and tragedies, pandemics and wars and rumors of wars, and divisions within the congregation, the country and more. We do this always at the side of the Good Shepherd, who we look to, who we tune our ears to hear his voice, prepared to respond to his commands. And our voices are heard by the people, never the sheeple. We serve as we echo the Good Shepherd’s call to follow him. One more thing that you may know about us – by the way, I drew this from a great source on sheepdogs called Wikipedia. One more thing – we’re also known for our herding instincts. On behalf of my breed, I apologize for the times that your good shepherd, your good sheepdogs have nipped at your heels and perhaps your blood by using their voices and body motions in ways that you think are inappropriate. It happens. It’s in the breed, so we have to watch that tendency within ourselves. But it’s in our nature to nip once in a while, so I ask for your forgiveness for them as you move forward to find the next leader in your congregation.

As I noted, you have had 27 called sheepdogs, seven interim sheepdogs, and I want to lift up your founding pastor. I was reading your history. Reverend Benjamin W. Higby. He was, as you report in your history, he was spiritual, evangelistic, and militant for Christ. I already love this guy. He was an anti-slavery leader, and this was an anti-slavery church. Your history is amazing, as I’ve read through it a couple of times now. I love your 1868 stained glass windows here that show the biblical characters as African Americans, which is appropriate that they would look like that, coming from the Middle East, coming from Africa. Your church survived a lot of attacks in the early days, attacks which continued through your first 30 years of existence from 1834 up to the Civil War. Of course, your first 13 sheepdogs were best known because they came from Oberlin College. Now go up the road a bit to Oberlin College and you realize all roads leading down and up to Oberlin come as anti-slavery, free-slave, Underground Railroad roads. These were the men and women of Oberlin who were the fierce protectors of runaway slaves and the advancement of justice in our land. You didn’t go to Oberlin when your pastors were going there back in the 1800s unless you were fighting slavery. That’s it. It was actually a law passed in Ohio. I’m going off script, sorry about this. But there was a law passed in Ohio, and it was passed by one vote. The law said that no one could serve from Oberlin College as a teacher south of the National Road. Now, the National Road ran south of my church in downtown Columbus, right? So, we’re on the National Road, but if you’re to the north of the National Road, you’re OK. The reason the legislature passed that was because all of the Oberlin teachers who went south were teachers who advocated for freeing slaves and fighting slavery, so they banned them. OK. So in the 1840s they banned them from teaching south of the National Road. Anyway, I’m off script. Sometimes sheepdogs go off script because we’re a little ADD. 

But during my ministry, I have known seven of your pastors or interim pastors, and I’ve always been impressed with their compassion. I’ve been impressed with their love; with their stewardship of the gifts that God provided them to serve you faithfully and well. So, I say, thanks be to God. The good shepherd and his loyal assistants, the 34 sheepdogs, have attended thousands of sheep in this greater Mount Vernon area that you have called home. Hearing the sound of his voice and hearing the sheepdogs’ barks and various intonations in Christ, the faithful here have moved forward with tremendous witness for the kingdom of God. There’s something else about the good sheepdogs that I want to lift up. I believe their closeness to Christ and their closeness and faithfulness to the flock on the sacred ground of Main Street in Mount Vernon has placed them so close to the flock because they smell like the sheep that they care for. Let me explain this. I take this image directly from Pope Francis of blessed memory. Shortly after he was named Pope in 2013, Francis was speaking to priests for the first time in the Vatican. He drew them together and he said, “I ask you to be shepherds with the odor of the sheep. Make it real. You are always to be among your flocks. The sheepdogs need to smell like the flock they care for. They need to be so close to the flock that they become one with them in this closeness.” For myself, I remember late nights in hospital rooms, all-night vigils with members in their homes as loved ones were dying, tears shed for those who were hurting, those who were lost. Not until the sheepdog smells like the sheep will their ministry mean anything at all. I know that Pastor Jay smells like the flock, and it’s not the aftershave. He abides with you in a transparent and gentle way and with a heart for God’s people and for God. Thank God for him and all who preceded him in faithful service.

But I need to add that it is all our jobs to do this. It is all of us who are called to smell like one another, to be that close to one another, particularly our children and those who are LGBTQIA and the immigrants and migrants and refugees and people of faith from other than Christian tradition, and the homeless poor, those who are least and lost and forsaken and forgotten – if you will, the smelliest of the sheep. I say that with great love as one who has been down there sleeping outside with those who are homeless. We are called alongside to abide, and we are called alongside to our communities and you both to suffer with you. To that end, of all people, those in an abolitionist congregation for whom your DNA calls you to do this stuff, it’s in your blood as a congregation to follow the model of leadership from members and pastors who have come before you, to stand strong here in Mount Vernon with the workers at Pancho’s Tacos who were abducted this past week in an ICE raid. We all know this story, and it’s your story. It’s your town’s story. Find out more about others that had unconfirmed reports of people abducted by ICE at Fiesta Mexicana, or the Ellis Brothers, a local concrete and paving company. There were reports that people were taken there. And how did that happen? Through rumors, right? They didn’t take them because there were crimes committed. They took them because someone said something.

What have we become? We’re a nation of immigrants. We’re a nation of African American people who rose out of slavery. We’re a nation of people who believe that it is wrong to take children from their sleep or from a school, or hard-working taxpayers taken from their places of work. We believe that’s wrong. That’s who we have been. That’s who we should always be. It is a place where justice and mercy meet that matters most in these times. True justice and true mercy always grow out of relationships. The work of justice is relational work, coming down to figure out who it was who lost what. That’s the work of justice. Figure out what was taken from whom and return it to them. That’s my definition of justice; I’ll say it again – figuring out what was taken from whom and returning it to them. In this regard, each of us should be doing justice every day in all sorts of ways, right? If somebody’s dignity has been stripped, we need to return it to them. If somebody’s trust has been broken, we need to work to rebuild it and return it to them. If somebody is physically or emotionally abused, we need to work to rectify that and return hope and healing to them. If someone’s beaten down by racial and economic injustice, we need to work for reparations and restorations so that equality and equity is theirs again. It may take generations, but it has to happen. If we have someone who is driven from their home, their land, their identity, their heritage, we need to give that back to them. As abolitionist Theodore Parker proclaimed and Dr. King repeated over and over again, the moral arc of the universe is long, but it bends toward justice, so we need to keep hanging on to the arc and bending it back toward justice. That’s the work of the sheep. And the sheepdogs are here to guarantee that happens. Justice always begins and ends in relationships, and I guarantee you that if there is no relationship, there can be no justice. So never tire in your work, First Church, for the work that you do here.

So, with our faithful forebears, the Pilgrims, as they were preparing to leave life in the Netherlands and sail to the new world in July 1620, their pastor, their good sheepdog, John Robinson, offered these words of farewell. He said, 405 years ago, “I challenge you to choose only leaders who follow God’s ordinances and not their own desires. I call you to always govern with hearts of love for all people and always with a concern for the common good. Leave no one behind. Forsake no one in any community you ever enter.” And finally, he says, “Follow no man who does not follow Christ.” Wow. Those words are as true today as they were in 1620. “If a man should fail to follow Christ,” he finishes, “follow him no longer.” Those 405-year-old words can apply to us. In that spirit, I encourage all of you to join places and demonstrations and resistance wherever you can find it. It’s coming up. It’s always here. And join others who are fighting for freedom and justice across this nation as good sheep under the able nudging and nipping of a good sheepdog. Together we will follow the one good shepherd. And I ask you to hold in your hearts the 33 sheepdogs and pastors who have gone before Pastor Jay and pray for him and the search committee as you seek your new and called pastor. Please remember that each of the 34 pastors gave themselves in the best ways they could to this congregation to be a star of bright, shining light on Main Street in Mount Vernon. In their deepest hearts, this is where they sought to lead you. So, keep your eyes on this prize and never give up. Don’t weaken in doing justice, loving mercy, and walking humbly with your God. Amen.