At Garden City Church in Tacoma, we believe the heart of our mission flows directly from Jesus’ famous parable of the lost sheep. It’s a story that challenges how we see people, especially those who feel far from God. It reminds us why pursuit, rescue, and celebration are at the core of who we are.
I still remember a wild night during Bible school in a castle in northern England. My friend Eric and I hatched what we thought was the ultimate prank: sneak a sheep into the girls’ dormitory. We recruited my Norwegian roommate Freddy, convinced he knew sheep because… well, he was from Europe. After hours of trudging through muddy fields under a cloudy full moon, we finally spotted one. What followed was chaos. Sheep aren’t as docile as they look at night—they bolted like ghosts. Freddy, it turned out, had lied about his farm experience and ran screaming. Eventually, I caught a large pregnant ewe by diving onto her like a mutton-busting rodeo kid. We spent the next hour coaxing her back to the castle by flanking her like predators. The prank succeeded… until the next morning when Farmer Ray showed up furious. “Did you know she was pregnant?” he asked. His words hit hard: “How would you like it if your mother was chased while pregnant with you?”
That night taught me two unforgettable lessons: how incredibly difficult it is to find and catch a lost sheep, and how painful it feels to come between a shepherd and his sheep. In an agrarian culture like Jesus’, everyone understood this. Sheep represented wealth, livelihood, and family. Losing even one was serious.
Jesus told the parable in response to the religious elites grumbling that He welcomed “sinners” and ate with them. Tax collectors (seen as traitors collaborating with Rome) and other notorious outsiders were gathering around Jesus, while the “righteous” Pharisees were offended by His closeness to them.
Jesus flips their perspective with a simple question: “Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one. Wouldn’t you leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until you find it?”
He highlights three powerful movements in the shepherd’s heart:
The Impulse to Search – This isn’t casual looking. It’s frantic, determined pursuit. The shepherd doesn’t wait for the lost sheep to wander back. He leaves the safety of the ninety-nine and actively hunts for the one.
The Joy of Finding – When he finds it, the shepherd doesn’t scold first—he rejoices. He lifts the sheep onto his shoulders and carries it home. The rescue involves care, strength, and personal sacrifice.
The Party of Celebration – Back home, he calls friends and neighbors: “Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep!” Jesus adds, “There will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.”
At Garden City, this is our rhythm: search, find, celebrate—and repeat. We’ve seen it lived out in real lives. Early in our church, a man deep in addiction came broken, marriage shattered, everything lost. Through persistent love and community, he found sobriety, healing, and restoration, not just for himself, but for his marriage and family. Today they thrive on the other side of the mountains with healthy kids and renewed faith. Stories like his remind us: no one is a throwaway sheep. Every person carries infinite value as an image-bearer of God.
Jesus shifts the entire conversation. Lost sheep aren’t an offense to judge or avoid, they are treasures to pursue and welcome. The Father’s heart moves toward the broken, the addicted, the lonely, the spiritually adrift. As a church, we’re called to reflect that same heart.
This Easter season, as we remember resurrection power and new life, let’s lean into this pattern. Who in your life feels lost? How can we search with urgency, carry with compassion, and celebrate every return with joy?
Because if we have impressive gatherings, powerful words, or growing numbers—but lack this kind of love—it all means nothing. Let’s love like the Shepherd who leaves the ninety-nine.
A message From Pastor George.