Not My Sheep: A Steward’s Approach to Shepherding the Church

I’ve noticed something interesting in the world of regenerative agriculture.

The people who practice it—the ones building soil health, rotating livestock, and restoring ecosystems—don’t usually call themselves farmers. More often than not, they refer to themselves as stewards.

That word struck me. It carries a different weight, a different posture. It’s not about control, profit, or even success. It’s about care. It’s about responsibility for something that ultimately isn’t yours.

And the more I thought about it, the more it started to sound like pastoral ministry.

The Sheep Don’t Belong to Me

One of the most dangerous traps in ministry is forgetting who the church belongs to. We talk about “my church” or “my people” or “my team”—sometimes out of affection, sometimes out of ego. But deep down, we know the truth: the flock is not ours.

Jesus couldn’t have been clearer. In John 21, after the resurrection, He tells Peter three times: “Feed my sheep.” Not your sheep. My sheep.

That reminder still echoes. The people we serve, the church we lead, the mission we nurture—it’s all God’s. We are called to be stewards, not owners. Shepherds, not CEOs. Faithful caretakers of something that belongs to Someone else.

What Does It Mean to Be a Steward?

In regenerative agriculture, stewardship means managing land in a way that increases life—below the soil, in the pasture, across generations. You don’t just take from the land. You cultivate it. You heal it. You make it better than you found it.

Pastoral leadership should work the same way.

When we see ourselves as stewards of the church, it changes everything. Our goal isn’t to build personal platforms or protect institutional power. Our goal is to:

• Keep the flock healthy,

• Help it multiply, and

• Leave it better than we found it.

That’s what a good steward does. Whether in the field or in the pulpit.

1. Keep the Flock Healthy

A healthy pasture doesn’t just look green on the surface—it thrives below ground. It’s resilient. Balanced. Alive.

The same is true of a healthy church.

As pastors, we’re called to tend not just programs, budgets, or attendance numbers—but the spiritual vitality of the people. That means attending to the soil of discipleship, not just the machinery of ministry.

Are we creating space for rest, prayer, growth, and grace?

Are our ministries life-giving or just busy?

Are our people rooted in Christ—or burned out by church?

A steward pays attention. A steward asks questions. A steward prioritizes health over hype.

2. Help It Multiply

In regenerative systems, one of the surest signs of health is fruitfulness—the pasture multiplies its nutrients, the herd grows stronger, the land supports more life over time.

In the church, we’re not just maintaining what is. We’re cultivating what could be.

That means making disciples who make disciples. That means equipping leaders, releasing gifts, and empowering the whole body of Christ. It means embracing the idea that everyone has a part to play—and our job is to help them discover and develop it.

Multiplication isn’t about growing big for the sake of growth. It’s about increasing faithfulness, impact, and witness in the world.

A steward doesn’t hoard the work. A steward shares it. And in doing so, the flock multiplies.

3. Leave It Better Than You Found It

This might be the heart of stewardship.

In agriculture, regenerative practices aim not just to sustain the land, but to improve it—to restore its richness for generations to come.

In the church, that means resisting the temptation to simply maintain what we’ve inherited. Instead, we ask: What will the next generation receive from us?

Will we pass on exhausted systems and dwindling energy? Or will we hand them a church that’s vibrant, focused, and ready for the future?

We’re not just called to shepherd a moment—we’re called to steward a movement. That means we prepare the soil, plant the seeds, and trust that God brings the growth—even if we don’t live to see the harvest.

The Temptation to Control

Let’s be honest—there’s a part of every pastor that wants to own. To control. To shape everything according to our vision and effort. Sometimes that drive comes from good intentions. Sometimes it comes from insecurity.

But the danger is this: the more we treat the church as ours, the less we leave room for God.

Control is the enemy of both stewardship and growth. It exhausts the leader and stifles the flock. When we lead with clenched fists, we close ourselves off to the surprises of the Spirit.

Stewardship invites us to lead with open hands. To listen. To trust. To let go of what isn’t ours and be faithful with what is.

A Better Legacy

When my time in pastoral ministry is over—whether it’s here or somewhere down the road—I don’t want to be remembered as the guy who built something impressive. I want to be remembered as a faithful steward.

Someone who kept the flock healthy.

Who helped it multiply.

Who left it more alive than he found it.

That’s the kind of legacy that matters. Not ownership, but care. Not empire, but fruitfulness. Not control, but surrender.

Final Word: It Was Never Mine

If you’re a pastor, a teacher, a lay leader, or a disciple of any kind—this reminder is for you too:

The people you serve? Not yours.

The ministry you lead? Not yours.

The gifts you use? Not yours.

They all belong to God.

And that’s the best news of all—because it means the weight of the world isn’t on your shoulders. Your job is not to be impressive. It’s to be faithful.

To care for what’s not yours as if it were.

To lead with humility, not entitlement.

To love the flock as a reflection of the Shepherd who laid down His life for it.

Because in the end, it’s not my sheep.

And thank God for that.