Due to a slight technical difficulty, the recording process didn't begin until the end of the church service this morning. We only caught the last few minutes of the service. So we will be going back to the old method of sermon posting just for this week. For this reason THIS SERMON CANNOT BE USED FOR SERMON NOTES BY CONFIRMATION STUDENTS!- Pastor
He is risen, he is
risen indeed! Alleluia! Amen. Our
text today are the Epistle and Gospel lessons just read, especially these
words, “The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” Thus far our text.
This tremendous
sermon was written by Pastor Will Weedon.
Once upon a time (a real time, mind you, not an imagined one), there was
a wolf. He was a fat old thing. You see, he had it pretty easy. Whenever he
wanted to eat, he only had to walk his door of his cave and look at the sheep
that fed right outside. He’d eye this one or that one. And then he’d go after
it and with a pretty minimal struggle, he’d bring the sheep down and eat away.
And the more that he ate, the bigger he got, and the bigger he grew, the
hungrier he got. He was a wicked old thing; sometimes he’d just poke his head
out the door and howl. All the sheep began to shiver at the very sound of him.
He’d chuckle to himself. “Yes, you better be afraid, you stupid sheep because
one of these days I am going to eat you, and it won’t be pleasant, oh no it won’t.
Ha! Ha!” This big, bad wolf, you see, had a name. A name of fear. The sheep had
only to think of his name and they’d get wobbly on their knees and some would
faint outright. His name, you see, 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 was worse than his name or his howl. He was altogether
dreadful, let me tell you! He was in charge and all the sheep knew it.
There came a day
when he was feeling hungrier than usual. He poked his head out the cave door to
roar and he couldn’t believe his eyes. Why, right there in front of his door,
on his very door-step almost was the fattest, juiciest sheep he’d ever laid his
eyes on. The effrontery of it! He drew in the air to fill his vast lungs and
then he let out a stone-splitting howl. All
the other sheep in the vicinity turned tail and ran. They were afraid. All but
the sheep that grazed still just outside his cave. That sheep paid him no heed
at all. Kept on eating, just like it hadn’t even heard him. He was getting mad
now. He came bounding out the door and right up to that impertinent animal.
Again he sucked the air into his lungs and this time he breathed out right in
the sheep’s face. The sheep looked up and blinked as the hideous odor of decay
was blasted in its face. Totally unconcerned the sheep blinked and then
stared.
Now the wolf was
getting himself into quite a tizzy. “Don’t you know who I am?” he snarled. The
sheep looked at him and said: “Yes. I know.” Calm, at peace even. The other
sheep began to creep back at a distance to watch. They couldn’t believe what
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 have got
to be kidding!” Now the wolf was so livid with anger that he spoke low and
menacing: “You’re for it, lamb chops. You are not going to have it easy. I’m
going to take you out slow and painfully.” There was a moment of silence and
then the sheep said: “I know.”
The other sheep
had all been watching because they’d never heard anything like this before. But
the moment that the wolf pounced they turned away. A great sadness filled them.
They had thought, well, they had scarcely dared to hope, but it was just
possible that, this once, the wolf wasn’t going to get his way. But their hopes
were dashed. It was an awful and an 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 rude face, red with blood to the other sheep, and he
belched. They turned tail and ran, knowing that he’d be back for them one day
soon.
As the wolf went
back to his cave, he took out a tooth pick and cleaned his teeth and he thought
that he’d never tasted a sheep that was quite so good before. Nothing tough
about that meat. It was tender and rich and really altogether satisfying. The
thought hit him with surprise. 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 the morning
came the wolf wasn’t feeling quite himself. It was almost as though he were
getting a bit of tummy ache. Such a thing never happened. He always woke up ravenous
and went off to start eating first thing in the morning. At least a dozen or so
sheep before the dew was off the grass. But not this morning. His tummy 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, he was
getting a taste of pain himself and it was most unpleasant. He kept thinking
back to that impertinent sheep he had eaten yesterday afternoon, the one that
had tasted so strangely good. Could it have actually 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 and his howled and
yammered.
The sheep heard
the sound and didn’t quite know what to make of it all. They crept cautiously
nearer and nearer to the door of his house and turned their heads listening.
What could it mean?
It was sometime in
the dark of the night that the wolf let out a shuddering howl. Something was
alive and moving inside its own gullet. Something that pushed and poked and
prodded until with a sudden burst, the gullet was punctured and hole ripped
open. And something, rather, someone stepped right out through the hole, right
out of the massive stinking stomach. The wolf felt like he was dying. And I
suppose in a way 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 critter, but had never actually met one.
With a staff in his hand he walked around and stood facing the wolf. And he
began to laugh. He laughed and his laugher 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, you don’t
recognize me, old foe? It was I who ate outside your house three days ago.
‘Twas I that you promised would die horribly and how 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
sheep whom he had swallowed down. “You. But how? Oh, the pain!” The shepherd
smiled and said: “Well, I think you’re pretty harmless now, my friend. Go on
and try to eat some of my sheep. I promise you that as fast as you swallow them
down I will lead right out through the hole I made in your stomach. And then
you’ll never be able to touch them again! Ta!”
The wolf howled in
fear and anger and rage, but there was nothing he could do. The Shepherd had
tricked him, fooled him good! And the Shepherd then stepped outside the door
and called the sheep together. They knew his voice too. They’d heard it before.
They stood before the Lamb who had become the Shepherd and they listened as he
told them what would happen to them. “You’ll die too. He’ll come out in a few
days and be hungrier than ever. He’ll swallow you down. But don’t worry. I
punched a hole right through his belly and I promise you I’ll bring you out
again.”
Its not just a
story, but it is the truth for you. The
promise still holds: “My sheep hear my voice and I know them and they follow me
and I give them eternal life and they shall never perish neither shall anyone
snatch them out of my hand.” Let the old
wolf howl and snarl all he will. We know about the hole in his tummy. We know
about the Sheep who is the Shepherd. Our Good Shepherd. Amen!
