Back to Bees

July 5, 2020

“I went out like a light! I was flat on my back; I could see the sky and clouds, but couldn’t move or speak. After awhile, I started coming around, got up, and finished the work.” Roy had kept bees since he was a boy; he was in his seventies when he related the story to me. A bee had stung him right between the eyes, but it was a later incident that ended his beekeeping hobby for good. It happened again, but this time his wife happened to be there. She made him hang up his veil for good.

It was more than thirty years ago that Roy got me started in beekeeping. The little critters fascinated me, and when I said as much, Roy almost immediately gave me a colony to get started. I caught swarms, and harvested honey by the gallon from a measly two hives. Then one April when I checked on them, both colonies had died. A mere three weeks earlier, they were strong and active. I never did learn what killed them, but it was the beginning of what is now called Colony Collapse Disorder. Life got, as they say, busy as a bee, and the hive bodies remained stacked in the loft of our barn and then behind our garage for nearly twenty years. The fascination however, didn’t die with those colonies, and I recently decided it was time to begin again. 

Friday, a local beekeeper friend brought over two nucs (short for nucleus) consisting of five frames of bees, pollen, larvae, and honey. This evening, I transferred them to full-sized hives, which means I am back in business. It feels good, except of course, for where I got stung. Friday, I got nailed in my left hand, and tonight, one got under my veil and stung me in the Adam’s Apple. It itches more than it hurts, and by tomorrow morning I’m guessing I’ll look like I have a goiter. 

Keep bees, and you’re going to get stung. Speak boldly about Jesus Christ, and you’re likely to get stung again. We live in a culture that values safety and security above almost everything else, which to me, is unhealthy, a dangerous place to be. I am not by nature a risk-taker, but I have learned that nothing worth doing can be accomplished without risk. It took me awhile to understand this; seminary training and denominational ethos valued pastors who took good care of the people and the system. Entrepreneurs were discouraged. I was fortunate enough to have at one time a District Superintendent (read “boss”) who encouraged out of the box thinking, which kept me from going nuts or quitting. My ministry model came to be based on Jesus’ story of the Talents in Matthew 25. The only servant condemned by Jesus was the one who played it safe. I decided then and there, I would not be that kind of servant. 

So, occasionally I got stung. It hurt at the time, but I got over it, and eventually was able to enjoy the sweet harvest of handing over a healthy congregation to my successor. He would make a good beekeeper; he’s not afraid to take even more of a risk than I would, brushing off the stings like a pro. As for me, I’m thankful to let him keep the congregational hive humming; I’m content with my little buzzing friends. Thank you, Roy.