Ezekiel 34:11-16/1 Peter 2:21-25/St John 10:11-18
In the Name + of JESUS. Amen.
Once upon a time - a real time, not a fictitious time - there was a large, beautifully green pasture in which a flock of sheep freely grazed. Throughout this pasture flowed gentle, rolling streams and dotting its picturesque hills were flowering trees providing ample shade for rest.
Now at the edge of this pasture there was a cave, dark and ominous. From this cave blew the most putrid of smells, a vile stench that not even the blossoming trees of the pasture, with their wonderful aroma, could mask. And the entrance to this cave was streaked with blood. Blood that stained the stone and served as a warning to all the sheep of the thing that lived in this cave.
For inside this cave lived a wolf; a terrible beast of a thing. He had the most voracious hunger and whenever he wanted he could just stick his head out of his cave and gobble up some tasty sheep. He would pick them off, a few each morning, five or six in the evenings. Always eating, but never satisfied. Sometimes, just for fun, he would howl and laugh and terrify all the sheep, causing them to run and hide. For he knew that he would have them all. No matter how many lambs were born, no matter how far away they’d try to hide, he’d hunt them down and eat them.
Now this wolf had a name, a terrible, awful name that struck fear into the timid hearts of these sheep. Some would only need to think of his name and they’d get weak kneed, others would even faint. For this big bad wolf’s name was Death. Death was always eating and never satisfied. Death stank a putrid smell. The wolf named Death was the bane of the flock and the terror that haunted all the sheep.
Some of the hired hands would try to comfort the sheep, pacify their fears. But they would just lie to them. Tell them the wolf really isn’t that bad. Tell them he wasn’t real or at least wasn’t a problem for them, just for the old, slow sheep, easily picked off. But when that wolf named Death came bounding over the hill, jaws wide for a meal, even those hirelings would flee and leave the sheep. Nothing and no one could stop him.
One particular morning the wolf woke up especially hungry. And as he opened his eyes he could not believe what he saw. Grazing right in front of his cave was a little lamb, a succulent, tender thing. The wolf drew in air to fill his vast lungs and let out an ear splitting howl. All the sheep tucked tail and ran. They were afraid. All, that is, but this One that still grazed just outside. That lamb paid him no attention at all. Just kept on eating like he never heard him.
The wolf was getting mad now. He came bounding out of his cave and right up to this impertinent animal. He huffed and he buffed, this time breathing right into the sheep’s face. The sheep looked up as the hideous odor of decay blasted in his face, and he just blinked. Blinked and starred.
Now the wolf was furious. “Do you know who I am?” He snarled. The sheep looked at him, “Yes, I know.” Calm. At peace even. The other sheep quietly crept back to watch, staying at a distance. They couldn’t believe what they were seeing! No one had ever stood up to the wolf before. Not like this!
“Well,” snarled the world, “aren’t you afraid?” The sheep looked Death, that big, bad wolf, right in the eye and said, “Afraid? Of you? You’ve got to be kidding!” Now the wolf was livid! He spoke low and menacing, “You’re in for it lamb chops. Its not going to be easy. I’m going to devour you, slowly, painfully. I’m going to savor every bite, slowly.”
A moment of silence. Then the Lamb just said, “I know.” The other sheep had been watching, listening. They had never seen or heard anything like this before. At the moment the wolf pounced they couldn’t bear it. They turned away. A great sadness filled the, They had thought, scarcely dared to hope, perhaps it was possible, just this once, the wolf wasn’t going to get his way. Death wouldn’t win.
But their hopes were dashed. It was an awful and ugly sight. The wold chowed down. It was slow and painful just as he said. And in the end, there was nothing left. He turned his repulsive face, red with blood, toward the other sheep and he belched. Afraid, they all ran, knowing he'd becoming for them one day soon.
As the wolf returned to his cave he thought, “I’ve never tasted a sheep quite so good before. Good, tender meat. Rather satisfying.” The though surprised him. For the first time his insatiable hunger actually seemed to be quenched. The thought was a little disturbing to him. “Well, no matter,” he thought. And off he went to bed.
When morning came the wolf wasn’t feeling quite himself. It was as though he was getting a bit of a stomach ache. Such a thing never happened. He always woke up ravenous. He always started eating first thing. A half-dozen sheep or so before the dew was off the grass! But not this morning. His stomach was grumbling. By noon he was feeling more than discomfort. He was ill! He who had brought such pain to those poor sheep was getting a taste of pain himself. And it was unpleasant.
He kept thinking back to that impertinent sheep yesterday afternoon, the One who had tasted strangely good. “Could it have been poisoned or something,” he wondered. It wasn’t long before he stopped thinking altogether. The pain was too great. He rolled around on the floor of his cave, hollering and whimpering.
The sheep heard the sound and didn’t quite know what to make of it. They crept cautiously closer to the cave, turning their heads to see. They’d never heard the wolf cry like this before. He was really crying. But what could it mean?
Sometime in the dark of the night the wolf let out a shuddering howl, one like never before! We woke with fright as looked down at his stomach: something was alive and moving inside his gullet! Something pushed and prodded, stretching his vulgar belly until with a sudden burst, his gullet was punctured and ripped open! And something, rather, Someone, stepped right through the hole, right out the massive, sticking stomach. The wolf felt as though he was dying. And in a way he was.
The figure who stepped out of the wolf’s belly was totally unknown to the wolf. It looked like a Shepherd. He’d heard of such a creature, but never actually seen one. Not like this. With staff in hand the Shepherd walked around and stood facing the wolf. The Shepherd blinked and with a curious smile, He began to laugh. He laughed and laughed. His laughter broke open the door of the wolf’s house. He laughed and the sheep were bewildered, wondering what’s going on in there. He laughed and He looked the wolf right in the eye.
“So, old foe, you don’t recognize Me? It was I who ate right outside your house three days ago. It was I that you promised would die horribly. You kept that promise. But what do you have to say now?”
“You?!” The wolf gasped. The voice was the same, he recognized it. This Shepherd was indeed the Lamb he has swallowed down three days earlier. “You? But how?,” cried the wolf as he writhed in pain. The Shepherd smiled again and sad, “Well, you’re pretty harmless now. Go on and try to eat some of My sheep. I promise that as fast as you swallow them down I will lead them out through the hole I made in your gullet! Then you’ll never be able to touch them again!”
The wolf howled in fear and rage, but there was little he could do. The Shepherd had tricked him. He was once the bane of the sheep; now nothing but a shadow, a ghost. He had no power. He seethed in his rage as he looked out upon the flock and saw how they looked right past him to their Good Shepherd.
And the Shepherd turned and walked into the pasture, calling His sheep to Himself. For they knew His voice too. They’d heard it before. And as the Lamb who is their Good Shepherd stood in their midst, back from the dead, He lovingly told them what He had done and what would now happen to them. “In a few days the wolf will come crawling out, hungrier and angrier than ever. His rage will fuel him. He come and snatch you up, swallow you down. And you’ll die too. But don’t worry. Don’t be afraid. I punched a hole right through his belly and I promise that I’ll bring you out again to be with Me. He can’t have you. You’re mine.”
Once upon a time - a real time - two thousand years ago, this promise was made and still stands: My sheep hear My voice and I know them and they follow Me. I give them eternal life and they shall never perish, and no one will snatch them out of My hand. I am the Good Shepherd and I lay down my life for the sheep.
Come. The Lamb the sheep has ransomed. Even though you walk through the valley of the shadow of death, fear no evil. For your Good Shepherd is with you, His rod and staff, His Word and Spirit, they comfort you. Behold, He has prepared a Table before you, a feast of rich food, given to you in justice, in the Righteousness of His atoning death, even His Body and Blood, swallowed by death, alive from the grave, given you to here as the Food of Immortality. The wolf may howl, he may snarl and rage, but death cannot have you, its sting is lost, its power is done. You belong to Christ, the Great Good Shepherd and Bishop of your body and soul, who gathers you together as one flock. His mercy and goodness follow you alway. You shall dwell in His house forever.
In the Name of the Father and + of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
In the Name + of JESUS. Amen.
Once upon a time - a real time, not a fictitious time - there was a large, beautifully green pasture in which a flock of sheep freely grazed. Throughout this pasture flowed gentle, rolling streams and dotting its picturesque hills were flowering trees providing ample shade for rest.
Now at the edge of this pasture there was a cave, dark and ominous. From this cave blew the most putrid of smells, a vile stench that not even the blossoming trees of the pasture, with their wonderful aroma, could mask. And the entrance to this cave was streaked with blood. Blood that stained the stone and served as a warning to all the sheep of the thing that lived in this cave.
For inside this cave lived a wolf; a terrible beast of a thing. He had the most voracious hunger and whenever he wanted he could just stick his head out of his cave and gobble up some tasty sheep. He would pick them off, a few each morning, five or six in the evenings. Always eating, but never satisfied. Sometimes, just for fun, he would howl and laugh and terrify all the sheep, causing them to run and hide. For he knew that he would have them all. No matter how many lambs were born, no matter how far away they’d try to hide, he’d hunt them down and eat them.
Now this wolf had a name, a terrible, awful name that struck fear into the timid hearts of these sheep. Some would only need to think of his name and they’d get weak kneed, others would even faint. For this big bad wolf’s name was Death. Death was always eating and never satisfied. Death stank a putrid smell. The wolf named Death was the bane of the flock and the terror that haunted all the sheep.
Some of the hired hands would try to comfort the sheep, pacify their fears. But they would just lie to them. Tell them the wolf really isn’t that bad. Tell them he wasn’t real or at least wasn’t a problem for them, just for the old, slow sheep, easily picked off. But when that wolf named Death came bounding over the hill, jaws wide for a meal, even those hirelings would flee and leave the sheep. Nothing and no one could stop him.
One particular morning the wolf woke up especially hungry. And as he opened his eyes he could not believe what he saw. Grazing right in front of his cave was a little lamb, a succulent, tender thing. The wolf drew in air to fill his vast lungs and let out an ear splitting howl. All the sheep tucked tail and ran. They were afraid. All, that is, but this One that still grazed just outside. That lamb paid him no attention at all. Just kept on eating like he never heard him.
The wolf was getting mad now. He came bounding out of his cave and right up to this impertinent animal. He huffed and he buffed, this time breathing right into the sheep’s face. The sheep looked up as the hideous odor of decay blasted in his face, and he just blinked. Blinked and starred.
Now the wolf was furious. “Do you know who I am?” He snarled. The sheep looked at him, “Yes, I know.” Calm. At peace even. The other sheep quietly crept back to watch, staying at a distance. They couldn’t believe what they were seeing! No one had ever stood up to the wolf before. Not like this!
“Well,” snarled the world, “aren’t you afraid?” The sheep looked Death, that big, bad wolf, right in the eye and said, “Afraid? Of you? You’ve got to be kidding!” Now the wolf was livid! He spoke low and menacing, “You’re in for it lamb chops. Its not going to be easy. I’m going to devour you, slowly, painfully. I’m going to savor every bite, slowly.”
A moment of silence. Then the Lamb just said, “I know.” The other sheep had been watching, listening. They had never seen or heard anything like this before. At the moment the wolf pounced they couldn’t bear it. They turned away. A great sadness filled the, They had thought, scarcely dared to hope, perhaps it was possible, just this once, the wolf wasn’t going to get his way. Death wouldn’t win.
But their hopes were dashed. It was an awful and ugly sight. The wold chowed down. It was slow and painful just as he said. And in the end, there was nothing left. He turned his repulsive face, red with blood, toward the other sheep and he belched. Afraid, they all ran, knowing he'd becoming for them one day soon.
As the wolf returned to his cave he thought, “I’ve never tasted a sheep quite so good before. Good, tender meat. Rather satisfying.” The though surprised him. For the first time his insatiable hunger actually seemed to be quenched. The thought was a little disturbing to him. “Well, no matter,” he thought. And off he went to bed.
When morning came the wolf wasn’t feeling quite himself. It was as though he was getting a bit of a stomach ache. Such a thing never happened. He always woke up ravenous. He always started eating first thing. A half-dozen sheep or so before the dew was off the grass! But not this morning. His stomach was grumbling. By noon he was feeling more than discomfort. He was ill! He who had brought such pain to those poor sheep was getting a taste of pain himself. And it was unpleasant.
He kept thinking back to that impertinent sheep yesterday afternoon, the One who had tasted strangely good. “Could it have been poisoned or something,” he wondered. It wasn’t long before he stopped thinking altogether. The pain was too great. He rolled around on the floor of his cave, hollering and whimpering.
The sheep heard the sound and didn’t quite know what to make of it. They crept cautiously closer to the cave, turning their heads to see. They’d never heard the wolf cry like this before. He was really crying. But what could it mean?
Sometime in the dark of the night the wolf let out a shuddering howl, one like never before! We woke with fright as looked down at his stomach: something was alive and moving inside his gullet! Something pushed and prodded, stretching his vulgar belly until with a sudden burst, his gullet was punctured and ripped open! And something, rather, Someone, stepped right through the hole, right out the massive, sticking stomach. The wolf felt as though he was dying. And in a way he was.
The figure who stepped out of the wolf’s belly was totally unknown to the wolf. It looked like a Shepherd. He’d heard of such a creature, but never actually seen one. Not like this. With staff in hand the Shepherd walked around and stood facing the wolf. The Shepherd blinked and with a curious smile, He began to laugh. He laughed and laughed. His laughter broke open the door of the wolf’s house. He laughed and the sheep were bewildered, wondering what’s going on in there. He laughed and He looked the wolf right in the eye.
“So, old foe, you don’t recognize Me? It was I who ate right outside your house three days ago. It was I that you promised would die horribly. You kept that promise. But what do you have to say now?”
“You?!” The wolf gasped. The voice was the same, he recognized it. This Shepherd was indeed the Lamb he has swallowed down three days earlier. “You? But how?,” cried the wolf as he writhed in pain. The Shepherd smiled again and sad, “Well, you’re pretty harmless now. Go on and try to eat some of My sheep. I promise that as fast as you swallow them down I will lead them out through the hole I made in your gullet! Then you’ll never be able to touch them again!”
The wolf howled in fear and rage, but there was little he could do. The Shepherd had tricked him. He was once the bane of the sheep; now nothing but a shadow, a ghost. He had no power. He seethed in his rage as he looked out upon the flock and saw how they looked right past him to their Good Shepherd.
And the Shepherd turned and walked into the pasture, calling His sheep to Himself. For they knew His voice too. They’d heard it before. And as the Lamb who is their Good Shepherd stood in their midst, back from the dead, He lovingly told them what He had done and what would now happen to them. “In a few days the wolf will come crawling out, hungrier and angrier than ever. His rage will fuel him. He come and snatch you up, swallow you down. And you’ll die too. But don’t worry. Don’t be afraid. I punched a hole right through his belly and I promise that I’ll bring you out again to be with Me. He can’t have you. You’re mine.”
Once upon a time - a real time - two thousand years ago, this promise was made and still stands: My sheep hear My voice and I know them and they follow Me. I give them eternal life and they shall never perish, and no one will snatch them out of My hand. I am the Good Shepherd and I lay down my life for the sheep.
Come. The Lamb the sheep has ransomed. Even though you walk through the valley of the shadow of death, fear no evil. For your Good Shepherd is with you, His rod and staff, His Word and Spirit, they comfort you. Behold, He has prepared a Table before you, a feast of rich food, given to you in justice, in the Righteousness of His atoning death, even His Body and Blood, swallowed by death, alive from the grave, given you to here as the Food of Immortality. The wolf may howl, he may snarl and rage, but death cannot have you, its sting is lost, its power is done. You belong to Christ, the Great Good Shepherd and Bishop of your body and soul, who gathers you together as one flock. His mercy and goodness follow you alway. You shall dwell in His house forever.
In the Name of the Father and + of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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