The author of John’s Gospel promises, "There will be one flock." That would be all of us-and then some-wouldn’t it? There are some clear implications about evangelism in this statement.

Then John proclaiming, "There will be one shepherd." Lest we miss the intent, the following inescapable words of identity come right from the mouth of Jesus. "I am the Good Shepherd, " he says.

If Christ himself fills this role, and there is only one Good Shepherd, then clearly none of us, lay leaders, deacons, priests or bishops should imagine that we are He.

This is, though, of course, a common temptation-to assume the role or to put something, or someone, in God’s place. This temptation is so prevalent that a couple of commandments warn against it. One does not have to be ordained to fall prey to this temptation, but it is a temptation to which the ordained are perhaps more susceptible.

After all we’re often up front, dressed in distinctive ways, and in situations where it’s clear that we get to talk and everyone else is supposed to listen. Like now, for example… But this symbolic power is not something to be wielded by clergy for their own benefit. It does not belong to them. Such power as is available to the ordained is conferred upon them, entrusted to them, by God and the community. The symbolic power of the of the deaconate, the priesthood, and the Episcopate is meant to serve as a powerful lever to help raise up God’s people, not to elevate the ordained.

So let me suggest, as George Herbert did centuries ago, that a better image for leaders in the church is that of the Good Sheep Dog. We too need to be listening for the Master’s voice and obey such commands as come. How should we listen? The same way as all faithful people should – by being attentive to the reading of Scripture so that we may learn to recognize the sound of the Master’s voice. By taking time, as Jesus did, to go to a lonely place and pray – daily for refreshment, longer periodically for renewal and by participating in the teaching of the Apostles, the fellowship, the prayers of the people and the breaking of the bread so that we might be formed for greater use.

And while we must put our faith into action in the world and may charge at what we perceive to be wolves from time to time, we do so, hopefully, at the Good Shepherd’s behest knowing that what we do reflects on how others perceive the Good Shepherd. And when we circle stray sheep to guide them away from danger and encourage them to return to the flock, we need always remember it is the Good Shepherd’s flock, not ours.

Flocks that are following God, more often than not, tend to grow. Moses’ certainly did. A hurried band fleeing Egypt became a nation in the wilderness. If a family has both joys and challenges and these tend to increase with each new addition, one can understand why Moses reached a population point at which he felt overwhelmed and became less than gracious or effective.

And we heard that God, as God always does, encouraged Moses to think differently so as to experience different results.

Have you noticed that all change starts in our heads and hearts and moves out into the world, not the other way around? This is why discernment is so important, why the words on our Meditation Chapel doors remind us to "be still and know that I am God." Moses raises up leaders so that there would be sufficient sheep dogs to guide the flock of God – and things got better. Both Moses and the people needed to think differently so that they could act differently so that their experience of God and each other could turn out differently. Think of this as the first law of Spiritual Dynamics and a primer on church growth. God leads. We follow. Things get better.

We at St. James have been traveling together for over 250 years. The sheepfold is bigger and the flock has increased dramatically. We needed to raise up committed elders-lay leaders through whom we could be richly blessed-and we did, and we were. The level of volunteerism and leadership at St. James is astounding. But we also needed sufficient priests so that the work of guiding God’s flock might be done from an attitude of gratitude and abundance rather than from grumpy resentment and diminishing effectiveness.

Just as the ordained are not Jesus, so too they are not Moses – commitment is not a substitute for sleep, nor is love sufficient, in and of itself, to complete all tasks, Moses’ response to his sense of every growing responsibility was to say to god, "These people are too heavy for me. Do something about it, or just kill me now."

If Moses was feeling pressed by the weight of a growing people is it any surprise that growing parishes need an Aaron, or a tribe of Levites – other priests – to help serve the people? Now we are three at St. James – growing, maturing and welcoming another into the fold.

The context that gives meaning to the work of the ordained is the place where all four orders of ministry in the church gather. We gather at worship for solace and strength, pardon and renewal. Each order has its role in transforming ritual into bread for our shared journey. We gather for Christian formation, the means by which we learn discernment and sense vocation emerging in community. We gather in chapels and meeting rooms – for meditation and for study – to offer one another encouragement and to equip the saints for the work of ministry. Each of us is given grace. Every one of us is given gifts. Our work is to celebrate the first and discover the second. This is way we gather.

But unopened gifts aren’t nearly as much fun as ones that are opened and put to good use. So we speak the truth in love when we gather. We structure our common life to provide opportunities for all to pray, study, act and support the work of the church. We offer counsel and teaching to those willing to be formed. We share experiences and occasionally proffer a gracious reproach to rouse the careless and awaken sleepers. As the church, the people of God, the Good Shepherd’s flock we offer responsibility and authority to those who are called to serve – whether they are empowered and commissioned lay people or those called and about to be ordained as is Vic.

And finally we hold each other accountable in robust ways. This is why Vic has been through an extensive discernment process, three years of Seminary, one year as a transitional Deacon, monthly post-ordination training with the Diocese and weekly supervision with me.

I believe that Vic is an earnest, faithful, young man who is growing into the person God would have him be. I believe that we can be of service to him as he learns to be a good and faithful priest. I believe that Vic will serve us well. He already has a deep pastoral presence and a connection with young people that is growing in depth with every passing month. He already has a broader confidence in the skills with which he came.

And we are still traveling. Ordination to the priesthood is not the end of the journey for Vic, or for us. It is simply a milestone at which we will pause and give thanks. Tonight is a time to celebrate, and to put in context. This celebration is meant to be bread for the journey also.

We, however we are dressed, are all being clothed in Christ and bid to follow him. Praise be to the Good Shepherd who calls us by name and leads us to still waters, green pastures and life abundant. AMEN.