Ezekiel 34:11-16/1 Peter 2:21-25/St John 10:11-16
In the Name + of JESUS. Amen.
Once upon a time (a real time, not an imaginary time), there was a wolf; a fat old thing. He had it pretty easy, you see. Whenever he wanted to eat, he only had to walk out the door of his cave and look at the sheep that fed right outside. He’d eye up this one or that one, go after it and with minimal struggle, bring down the sheep and eat away. And the more he ate, the bigger he got. And the bigger he grew, the hungrier he got.
He was a wicked old wolf. Sometimes he would just poke his head out of his cave door and howl. All the sheep would shiver at the sound of him. He’d chuckle to himself. “Yes, you’d better be afraid, you stupid sheep, because one of these days I am going to eat you, and it won’t be pleasant. You can’t escape. Ha, Ha!”
This big bad wolf had a name. A name of fear. The sheep had only to think of his name and they’d get weak kneed; some would even faint. His name was Death. And Death was always hungry and never satisfied. Always eating sheep and always wanting more.
And he stank. The very smell of him, of his ravenous gullet, was worse than his name or his howl. He was dreadful, the worst predator imaginable. He was in charge and all the sheep knew it.
One day, when he was feeling hungrier than usual, he poked his head out the cave door to howl and couldn’t believe his eyes. Right there in front of his door, almost on his very doorstep, was the fattest, juiciest sheep he’d ever seen! The effrontery of it! He drew in air to fill his vast lungs and let out an eye-splitting howl. All the sheep tucked tail and ran. They were afraid. All, that is, but this one that still grazed just outside. That sheep paid him no attention at all. Kept on eat, just like it hadn’t even heard him.
The wolf was getting made now. He came bounding right out the door and up to that impertinent animal. Again he huffed and puffed, this time breathing right in the sheep’s face. The sheep looked up, blinked as the hideous odor of decay blasted his face, blinked and starred.
Now the wolf was working himself into a tizzy. “Don’t you know who I am?” He snarled. The sheep looked him: “Yes, I know.” Calm. At peace, even. The other sheep began to creep back to watch, staying at a distance. They couldn’t believe that they were witnessing!
“Well,” snarled the wolf, “aren’t you afraid?” The sheep looked Death, that old wolf, right in the eyes and said, “Of you? You’ve got to be kidding!” Now the wold was livid! He spoke low and menacing, “You’re in for it, lamb chops. It’s not going to be easy. I’m going to devour you slowly, painfully.” A moment of silence. Then the sheep said, “I know.”
The other sheep had been watching and listening. They had never heard or seen anything like this before. At the moment the wolf pounced they couldn’t bear it, they turned away. A great sadness filled them. They had thought, scarcely dared to hope, perhaps it was possible, just this once, the wolf wasn’t going to get his way. But their hopes were dashed. It was an awful and ugly sight. The wolf chowed down. It was slow and it was painful, just like he said. And in the end, there was nothing left. He turned his repulsive face, red with blood, to the other sheep, and belched. They tucked tail and ran, knowing he’d be back for them one day soon.
As the wold went back to his cave he took out a toothpick and cleaned his teeth. He thought, “I’ve never tasted a sheep quite so good before. Nothing tough about that meat. It was tender and rich; altogether satisfying.” The thought surprised him. It was almost as though his insatiable hunger had actually been quenched for once. The thought was a little disturbing. “Well, no matter,” he thought. And off he went to bed.
When morning came the wolf wasn’t feeling quite himself. It was almost as though he were getting a bit of a tummy ache. Such a thing never happened. He always woke up ravenous and started eating first thing. A dozen or so sheep 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 feeling positively ill. He who had brought such pain on 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 so strangely good. “Could it have been poisoned or something?” It wasn’t long before he stopped thinking altogether. The pain was just too great. He rolled around on the floor of his den as he howled and yammered.
The sheep heard the sound and didn’t quite know what to make ot it. They crept cautiously nearer and nearer the door of his cave and turned their heads to listen. “What could it mean?”
Sometime in the dark of night the wolf let out a shuddering howl, one unlike ever before. Something was alive and moving inside his gullet! Something that pushed and poked and prodded until with a sudden burst, his gullet was punctured and a hole ripped open! And something, rather, Someone, stepped right through the role, right out of the massive, stinking stomach. The wolf felt like he was dying. And, in away, he was.
The figure that stepped out of the wolf’s belly was totally unknown to the wolf. Why, it looked like a Shepherd. He’d heard of such a beast, but has never actually seen one. With staff in hand he walked around and stood facing the wold. The Shepherd blinked and with a curious smile, he began to laugh. He laughed and laughed. His laughter burst open the door of the wolf’s house. He laughed and the sheep were filled with bewilderment, wondering what was 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. And you kept your promise. But what do you propose to do about Me 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? Oh, the pain!” The Shepherd smiled again and said, “Well, I think you’re pretty harmless now. Go on an 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 stomach. And then you’ll never be able to touch them again!”
The wolf howled in fear and anger and rage, but there was nothing he could do. The Shepherd had tricked him; fooled him good! He was once the bane of the sheep. Now he was a shadow, a ghost.
The Shepherd stepped outside the door and called His sheep together. They knew His voice too. They’d heard it before. They stood before the Lamb who is their Shepherd and they listened as He told them what He had done and what would happen to them. “You’ll die too. He’ll come out in a few days and be hungrier than ever. His rage will fuel him. He’ll swallow you down. But don’t worry. 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 (Jn 10:27-28). Christ, your Good Shepherd, brings you the comfort and joy of the Resurrection today in His Supper. Here you taste the Body and the Blood that went into the wolf’s mouth, but which the wold could not hold. And so as you eat and drink, you have the same promise: Whoever eats My flesh and drinks My blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day (Jn 6:54).
Let the wolf howl and snarl all he will. You know about the hole in his tummy. You have the Lamb who is the Shepherd.
Alleluia! Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!
Amen.
This homily was borrowed in large part from Pastor Wil Weedon with portions adapted from Shepherd of Hermas and various Early Church Fathers.
In the Name + of JESUS. Amen.
Once upon a time (a real time, not an imaginary time), there was a wolf; a fat old thing. He had it pretty easy, you see. Whenever he wanted to eat, he only had to walk out the door of his cave and look at the sheep that fed right outside. He’d eye up this one or that one, go after it and with minimal struggle, bring down the sheep and eat away. And the more he ate, the bigger he got. And the bigger he grew, the hungrier he got.
He was a wicked old wolf. Sometimes he would just poke his head out of his cave door and howl. All the sheep would shiver at the sound of him. He’d chuckle to himself. “Yes, you’d better be afraid, you stupid sheep, because one of these days I am going to eat you, and it won’t be pleasant. You can’t escape. Ha, Ha!”
This big bad wolf had a name. A name of fear. The sheep had only to think of his name and they’d get weak kneed; some would even faint. His name was Death. And Death was always hungry and never satisfied. Always eating sheep and always wanting more.
And he stank. The very smell of him, of his ravenous gullet, was worse than his name or his howl. He was dreadful, the worst predator imaginable. He was in charge and all the sheep knew it.
One day, when he was feeling hungrier than usual, he poked his head out the cave door to howl and couldn’t believe his eyes. Right there in front of his door, almost on his very doorstep, was the fattest, juiciest sheep he’d ever seen! The effrontery of it! He drew in air to fill his vast lungs and let out an eye-splitting howl. All the sheep tucked tail and ran. They were afraid. All, that is, but this one that still grazed just outside. That sheep paid him no attention at all. Kept on eat, just like it hadn’t even heard him.
The wolf was getting made now. He came bounding right out the door and up to that impertinent animal. Again he huffed and puffed, this time breathing right in the sheep’s face. The sheep looked up, blinked as the hideous odor of decay blasted his face, blinked and starred.
Now the wolf was working himself into a tizzy. “Don’t you know who I am?” He snarled. The sheep looked him: “Yes, I know.” Calm. At peace, even. The other sheep began to creep back to watch, staying at a distance. They couldn’t believe that they were witnessing!
“Well,” snarled the wolf, “aren’t you afraid?” The sheep looked Death, that old wolf, right in the eyes and said, “Of you? You’ve got to be kidding!” Now the wold was livid! He spoke low and menacing, “You’re in for it, lamb chops. It’s not going to be easy. I’m going to devour you slowly, painfully.” A moment of silence. Then the sheep said, “I know.”
The other sheep had been watching and listening. They had never heard or seen anything like this before. At the moment the wolf pounced they couldn’t bear it, they turned away. A great sadness filled them. They had thought, scarcely dared to hope, perhaps it was possible, just this once, the wolf wasn’t going to get his way. But their hopes were dashed. It was an awful and ugly sight. The wolf chowed down. It was slow and it was painful, just like he said. And in the end, there was nothing left. He turned his repulsive face, red with blood, to the other sheep, and belched. They tucked tail and ran, knowing he’d be back for them one day soon.
As the wold went back to his cave he took out a toothpick and cleaned his teeth. He thought, “I’ve never tasted a sheep quite so good before. Nothing tough about that meat. It was tender and rich; altogether satisfying.” The thought surprised him. It was almost as though his insatiable hunger had actually been quenched for once. The thought was a little disturbing. “Well, no matter,” he thought. And off he went to bed.
When morning came the wolf wasn’t feeling quite himself. It was almost as though he were getting a bit of a tummy ache. Such a thing never happened. He always woke up ravenous and started eating first thing. A dozen or so sheep 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 feeling positively ill. He who had brought such pain on 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 so strangely good. “Could it have been poisoned or something?” It wasn’t long before he stopped thinking altogether. The pain was just too great. He rolled around on the floor of his den as he howled and yammered.
The sheep heard the sound and didn’t quite know what to make ot it. They crept cautiously nearer and nearer the door of his cave and turned their heads to listen. “What could it mean?”
Sometime in the dark of night the wolf let out a shuddering howl, one unlike ever before. Something was alive and moving inside his gullet! Something that pushed and poked and prodded until with a sudden burst, his gullet was punctured and a hole ripped open! And something, rather, Someone, stepped right through the role, right out of the massive, stinking stomach. The wolf felt like he was dying. And, in away, he was.
The figure that stepped out of the wolf’s belly was totally unknown to the wolf. Why, it looked like a Shepherd. He’d heard of such a beast, but has never actually seen one. With staff in hand he walked around and stood facing the wold. The Shepherd blinked and with a curious smile, he began to laugh. He laughed and laughed. His laughter burst open the door of the wolf’s house. He laughed and the sheep were filled with bewilderment, wondering what was 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. And you kept your promise. But what do you propose to do about Me 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? Oh, the pain!” The Shepherd smiled again and said, “Well, I think you’re pretty harmless now. Go on an 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 stomach. And then you’ll never be able to touch them again!”
The wolf howled in fear and anger and rage, but there was nothing he could do. The Shepherd had tricked him; fooled him good! He was once the bane of the sheep. Now he was a shadow, a ghost.
The Shepherd stepped outside the door and called His sheep together. They knew His voice too. They’d heard it before. They stood before the Lamb who is their Shepherd and they listened as He told them what He had done and what would happen to them. “You’ll die too. He’ll come out in a few days and be hungrier than ever. His rage will fuel him. He’ll swallow you down. But don’t worry. 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 (Jn 10:27-28). Christ, your Good Shepherd, brings you the comfort and joy of the Resurrection today in His Supper. Here you taste the Body and the Blood that went into the wolf’s mouth, but which the wold could not hold. And so as you eat and drink, you have the same promise: Whoever eats My flesh and drinks My blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day (Jn 6:54).
Let the wolf howl and snarl all he will. You know about the hole in his tummy. You have the Lamb who is the Shepherd.
Alleluia! Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!
Amen.
This homily was borrowed in large part from Pastor Wil Weedon with portions adapted from Shepherd of Hermas and various Early Church Fathers.
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