Uncle Bill's Cows

Uncle Bill lived in a prison of his own choice. His wife, Ruth, and five children, Bob, Dick, Janet, Wendy, and Shari, were semi-voluntary cell mates. And a herd of cows were the prison guards. There was some barbed wire and some electric fence on the compound but it was the cows that kept them confined.

I remember complaining to my mom- Uncle Bill’ was her older brother-- “Why can’t Bobby and Dicky ever come to visit us? Why do we always have to drive to their house?” And her answer was always the same. “The cows.” In my child like way I thought to myself, “They must be ‘some cows’ to keep Uncle Bill, a large and very strong man, locked up”.

Uncle Bill and his cell mates never took a vacation. Someone had to milk the cows, feed the cows, and clean the stalls of the cows. Those bovine creatures were merciless in their restriction of Uncle Bill’s freedom. Did Uncle Bill own those cows or did they own him?

My father had a line similar to Uncle Bills phrase, “The cows have to be milked”. Dad’s oft repeated retort was, “The sermon has to be preached.”

“Dad”, one of his five Sons would complain, “Why can’t we go away on weekends like other families?” “The sermon has to be preached.” “Dad, how come you can’t watch television with us tonight?” “The sermon has to be preached?” “Dad, why are you running around the house talking to yourself?” “The sermon has to be preached.”

I, too, am imprisoned. I am bound up, tied down, restricted in movement, limited in options, confined, incarcerated, caged, by, well, among other things, two covenants into which I have voluntarily entered, a marriage covenant and an ordination covenant. I have promised to be a loving and faithful husband and a loving and faithful pastor and each promise has severely restricted my freedom. I can never again plan my day without reference to the needs and expectations of other people. I have restricted the meeting of certain needs to very particular times and places and people. I have agreed to be a model to children and parishioners and thus certain behaviors are severely restricted. That is the primary reason why, for example, I do not use alcohol.

Because I am bound up in these covenants I can not quit whenever I feel like quitting. I am married and that does not end just because I experience a conflict with Carol. I am ordained and I do not run from my responsibilities just because they turn out to be more difficult than I had planned. I am a prisoner of my promises.

I am also a prisoner of my possessions. They try to own me. When a house owns you, you have to repair the front porch light when it is broken. You have to worry about the lawn that has been destroyed by the summer heat and the bushes destroyed by the winter cold. The more you buy the more you are committed to using, fixing and replacing. Financial resources are supposed to set free. They are also like Uncle Bill’s cows. They bind us up and tie us down. People buy a summer home as a “get-away” and it turns into a “got-to-go there” in order to open it up, fix it up, and shut it down. Do my color television and my two cars hold me captive or do they set me free?

The essential question is, am I an imprisoned man or am I a liberated man? What imprisons me and what sets me free? Listen to a series of New Testament texts on the theme of freedom and slavery, with brief comments about each:

“The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed..., (Luke 4:18)

The ministry of Jesus sets people free. This necessarily implies that people are un-free, imprisoned or enslaved. Is that true for you?

“Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” They answered him, ‘We are Abraham’s descendants and have never been slaves of anyone. How can you say that we shall be set free?’ Jesus replied, ‘I tell you the truth, everyone who sins is a slave to sin.’” (John 8:32—33)

In other words, many who need to be set free do not know they are enslaved. There are forms of captivity that look like a grand old party. There are prisons that look like respectable religious institutions. Legalism and self— righteousness are like iron bars and steel doors. “‘Do you refuse to speak to me?’ Pilate said. ‘Don’t you realize I have power either to free you or to crucify you?” (John 19:10)

How much power did Pilate really have over anyone’s freedom? Did he have the power to imprison a soul? Would Jesus have been freer if he had told Pilate what he wanted to hear in order to avoid the cross?

“You have been set free from sin and have become slaves to righteousness.” (Romans 6:18)

The implication of this verse is that there are some things that appear to enslave us that actually liberate us. “That’s the end of the fun!”, old friends say to a new Christian convert. But the convert cannot understand their jabbing humor. He has never felt so free, so full of life, so full of joy.

“...the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God.” (Romans 8:21)

The human family has a destiny that is described in this verse as “glorious freedom”. We share this future with all of God’s creation. All that causes us to be in bondage is to pass away.

“For he who was a slave when he was called by the Lord is the Lord’s freedman; similarly, he who was a free man when he was called is Christ’s slave. You were bought at a price; do not become slaves of men.” (I Corinthians 7:22—23)

How could it be any clearer? We are not to be slaves to the ways of mankind. We are to be slaves of Christ, bound to him unalterably and eternally.

With those texts as background, let me reflect on Uncle Bill and his imprisonment by a herd of cows. The big red barn is still there where I played basketball as a teenager, piled up bails of hay on a sweltering July day, and watched the birthing of cows. But the cows are long gone. Uncle Bill loved the farm. Though the economics of it all forced him to sell the cows, he still loves the land. The farmhouse is almost exactly the same as it was 30 years ago when our extended family gathered there on Christmas day. We will return there this year for Christmas Dinner. I will feast not only on Aunt Ruth’s cooking but also on the memories.

Uncle Bill’s life is tied up with that land near Niagara Falls, New York. He is bound to that land. It would kill him to leave. He is enslaved to the land. But in being so enslaved is he imprisoned by the things of man or the things of God? I believe Uncle Bill is God’s man on that land. I believe that though the cows restricted his movements, he was fulfilling God’s vocation for his life. I believe that though he has lived his entire married life in that one place, he is more free than many Americans who are enslaved’ by an endless search for the right job and the perfect house and the flawless relationship. Some things that look like prison are actually a sanctuary. Uncle Bills farm is holy ground. What is your holy’ ground?

My holy ground includes, as I mentioned earlier, my marriage and ordination covenants. Let’s think about the meaning of ordination. There is much that needs to be done in the church, including ministries of teaching, caring, hospitality, administration, music, repairing, planning, leading, listening, evangelism, and outreach. And the list is nearly endless. But there is one job that is so important, so difficult, and so likely to be avoided by all concerned that some persons are set apart-apart, not above--to do it. The community ordains these persons-makes them make a promise to do it-to make absolutely certain that this ministry is accomplished within the body. This critical ministry is the ministry of advocating for God. It is the ministry of making the church consider God, even when we would rather consider anything and everything else-like when we are planning budgets or when we are trying to press our own personal agendas. I can almost hear my people saying, on their best days, “You there, the ordained one, you are to teach us to listen to God even when we do not want to listen. You are to press us to pray, especially when we are too busy to pray. We are going to resist you in this. But do it anyway, because you are ordained to this ministry. You are to preach the Word of the Lord that the Lord gives you, not the one we want to hear. Sometimes we will tell you differently, but do not listen to us at those times. Listen to what we are telling you now. You are ordained and you are to speak for God, no matter what.”

The members of the First Baptist Church of Owego, New York ordained me. The members of Phillips Memorial and Peoples Baptist in Cranston, RI, and First Baptist in Littleton, MA, and Mountview Baptist in Columbus, OH confirmed my ordination when they installed me in their churches. I believe they all would have affirmed words of Eugene Peterson in his book, The Contemplative Pastor:

“We are going to install you to this ministry, and we want your vow that you will stick to it. This is not a temporary job assignment but a way of life that we need lived out in our community. We know you are launched on the same difficult belief venture in the same dangerous world as we are. We know your emotions are as fickle as ours, and your mind is as tricky as ours. That is why you were ordained and why, at this time, we are going to exact a vow from you. We know there will be days and months, and maybe even years, when we won’t feel like believing anything and won’t want to hear from you. And we know there will be days and weeks and maybe even years when you won’t feel like saying it. It doesn’t matter. Do it. You are ordained to this ministry, vowed to it. .. . With your vows of ordination and installation we are lashing you fast to the mast of the Word of God and the life of prayer so you will be unable to cave in to loud demands that you do ministry our way.” (p.145)

Something like these are the words the people of the church would speak to their pastors if they could give them voice. They are words that have to them the feel of bondage. “We tie you, in your ordination, to the mast of the word of God” so that amidst the storms of life you will not fall overboard. Though it may sound like slavery, I cannot imagine anything more freeing than being tied to the mast of the word of God. On the other hand it would be a terrible slavery to be bound to the mast of my own desires or the desires of other fragile and fallible people. What appears to be slavery is often freedom and what appears to be freedom is often slavery.

Consider, as a final example, giving. Have you ever heard a high school student answer the question, “What do you want to do when you grow up?” with an answer like, “I want to have enough money to be able to do what I want when I want as often as I want? I want to be free from all constraints, with no one telling me what to do.” That sounds like freedom but it is really emptiness, bondage, and idolatry.

Too often we run our lives as if we believe that freedom from worry will come to us by way of a raise or a new job. Freedom from hard labor will come when we buy that larger riding lawn mower. Freedom from having to listen to our kids complain will come when we are wealthy enough to buy them everything they want. Freedom from feeling like the Jones’s are looking down on us will come when we add a second story to our house so we can look down on them. These images of freedom are illusions that kill. It is the teachings of Jesus that give us life. The teachings of Jesus tell us that freedom comes, not from holding on, but from letting go. Freedom from worry comes when, and only when, we have learned to trust God in all things. Freedom comes when we see clearly for the first time how incredibly wonderful it is to be able to feed others and house others and share the gospel with others and still have plenty to eat and plenty to enjoy and plenty to love. Freedom is to begin each day with the certain knowledge that we don’t have to prove ourselves, that our value as people is not determined by what we wear or what we drive or what we do. Freedom is finally learning that the only things you really ever get to keep are those you give away. Freedom is being bound in covenants of love to Jesus and to the things and people God gives us to make our lives rich beyond measure.