A little over a month ago, I traveled up north to visit Peace Lutheran Church in Bremerton, Washington. They had issued a call for me to be their pastor, and I went to ask important questions and gather the information I needed to help decide on where I would serve. It was a whirlwind of a trip in the middle of Lent with more meetings than I care to recall, but one meeting was really memorable. It was with the interim pastor serving there. He had been retired for some years and was now serving to help congregations through their times of transition. We talked about the church, of course, the strengths and weaknesses of the congregation and all that, but we also had another interesting conversation. We began to speak quite simply about what it means to be a pastor. He shared how the one thing he was not ready for, having stepped away from full-time work and now entering it again, was what he called “the burden of the ministry.”
The burden of the ministry was not the meetings or the late nights. It was not the grind of having to be ready on Sunday morning, regardless of what happened throughout the week. The burden, as he spoke about it, was the often unreasonable love you have for the flock. A pastor engaged in his task of preaching and teaching the Word ends up loving those to whom he preaches. They are always on his heart and mind, and he wants them to be well, to be strong and resilient in this age. His failures to love are always before him, but still, he desires to be better, to care, provide, and protect the people of God.
The other day, I rewatched the movie “American Sniper.” There is a flashback scene at the beginning of the film, showing a young Chris Kyle sitting at the dinner table with his family, when his dad tells him there are three types of people in the world: Sheep, wolves, and sheepdogs. This comes from the writings of LTC Dave Grossman, who said, “Sheep are kind, gentle, productive creatures who only hurt one another by accident… wolves are those who feed on the sheep without mercy… and the sheepdogs live to protect the flock and confront the wolf.”
The reason I mention it is because we see this very thing playing out in Paul’s cautious words to the elders of the church in Ephesus. Paul has been a faithful sheepdog doing the bidding of the Good Shepherd, but he is leaving. He knows more trials and imprisonment await him. He knows he will never see them face to face again on this side of glory. So, he begins in earnest to offer a parting word of guidance and assurance for the people of God; a word we would do well to heed in our own day. He calls for them to stay alert, to pay careful attention to themselves and to the flock over which they have been called to serve as overseers. He says, “I know that after my departure fierce wolves will come in among you, not sparing the flock; and from among your own selves will arise men speaking twisted things, to draw away the disciples after them.”
He is burdened with love for them, and just as he knows he must continue on apart from them, so he knows the wolves will come for the flock when he is gone. The shocking thing about the reality of the wolves when it comes to the flock of God is how they are not simply “out there,” out on the perimeter, roaming around to snatch away the lone sheep that gets separated from the flock. To be sure, this does happen. It happens when the baptized pull away from the fellowship, when skipping one Sunday becomes skipping two, which leads to months and years away. There they live and breathe in the midst of the wolves who relentlessly attack and tear at the faith which was given. We all have friends and family members, people we love and care about, who have rejected their identity as the sheep of the Good Shepherd and been consumed by the world of the wolves.
However, the real warning here comes from the fact that Paul knows the wolves will also come from within. I think at times we wonder how this can even happen. How is it that people from within the fellowship might rise up, twisting the Word and dividing the flock? We get a sense of this when we examine ourselves, when we slow down to consider who we are and where our allegiances lie. We live in a world full of endless voices, endless echo chambers that we get stuck in, and endless influences that shape us. They impact how we see ourselves, how we view the role of the Church, and, most especially, how we view our brothers and sisters in Christ. When you combine all of this with our inherited sinful desire to seek our own glory, you find we each have the potential to become a wolf. In fact, we can even believe we are doing the right thing, the faithful thing, at the very time when we are wounding and scattering the flock around us.
Here we shift the burden of love from ourselves to other people, demanding that, out of love, they support my wolf within. Thanks be to God, Saint Paul does not leave us without some guidance, some practical advice for the journey ahead. Just as he says to the elders and the church in Ephesus, so he says to you this day, “Be alert!” as, “I commend you to God and to the word of His grace, which is able to build you up and give you the inheritance among all those who are sanctified.” To be alert is to be centered in the things of God, to be focused upon His Word. It is a word which is able to build and gather in the midst of the attacks, the wolves, a word that shapes and guides the flock every step of the way, for it is the voice of our Good Shepherd.
So, Paul, knowing he is leaving, is concerned, burdened by his love for the flock, for he knows the wolves are coming. What he turns them toward is what we have even now, the Word. It is the Word that kills and brings forth life. The Word calls for repentance from our glory-seeking desires. The Word empties us out of our work, our wisdom, and claims of greatness. Then this same Word fills you with the work, wisdom, and greatness of our Lord. This Word guards the sheep and is the sole weapon of the sheepdogs.
So, let us stand firm on Jesus’ Word. Let us hear it again and again. Let it remain our anchor in the storm, for it is the voice of the Good Shepherd. And His voice is one of forgiveness and welcome, a voice of protection for you and for all the flock.

