This
parable was originally told by
Pr. William Weedon. Reprinted from
Much
thanks to Pr. Weedon.
Christ
is Risen! Alleluia!
In
the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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 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,
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!”
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.”
Once
upon a time, and the time was 2,000 years ago. But the promise still
holds: “My sheep
hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. I give them
eternal life and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them
out of my hand”
(John 10:27-28). Jesus has descended into the belly of Death, and has
burst forth victorious. He has blazed the paths of righteousness,
that He might lead you out of the vale of death and seat you in His
green pasture, at His well-set banquet table. He has died the death
to sin once for all, and has emerged victorious in your stead. Death
no longer has dominion over Him, or any that belong to Him.
It
is the comfort of the Resurrection that Christ sets before you today
in his Supper. Here you taste the body and blood that went into the
wolf’s mouth, but which the wolf could not hold. As you eat and
drink you have the same promise: “Whoever
feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life!”
(John 6:54). Let the old wolf howl and snarl all he will. You know
about the hole in his belly. You know the Sheep who is the Shepherd.
Our Good Shepherd.
In
the Name of Jesus. Amen.
Christ
is Risen! Alleluia!
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