When the season of the vernal breeze begins to open the yearly birth of the ewes, when through the fields, meadows, and paths the fruitful flock begins to scatter abroad its abundant offspring, the good shepherd lays aside both his singing and his anxious ranging, and seeks, gathers, and collects the tender young, and joyfully carrying them, sets them upon his neck, shoulders, and arms, that he may bring them all safe and lead them into the sheltering folds. So we, brethren, when in the smiling springtime of Lent we see the ecclesiastical flock bring forth its teeming births, laying aside the song of our discourse and the feast of our accustomed sermon, we anxiously expend all our care, with heaviest labor, in gathering and bringing home the heavenly seed.
But since we see the lambs restored to the flock, and all now within the enclosures of Christ, we are most joyfully called back to divine songs, setting forth, with the full exultation of the Lord's food, its life-giving abundance for you: that those whom we have felt to be companions in labor, we may be able to have as partakers in joys. And because this our preface has made and brought in mention of the good shepherd—of him who alone is good, alone the shepherd, alone the shepherd of shepherds—let the whole intent of our sermon and discourse be filled and occupied with him. The good shepherd, he says, layeth down his life for his sheep (John 10). The force of love makes him strong, for true love reckons nothing hard, nothing bitter, nothing grievous, nothing deadly. What sword, what wounds, what punishment, what deaths can prevail to separate perfect love?
Love is an impenetrable breastplate; it spurns darts, shakes off swords, defies dangers, laughs at death—if it is love, it conquers all things. But let us inquire whether this death of the shepherd is advantageous to the sheep, which forsakes the sheep, which delivers the defenseless flock to wolves, which thus abandons the dear flock to the bites of wild beasts, gives it to plunder, and exposes it to death—as is proved from the very death of the shepherd Christ himself. For from the time when he laid down his life for his sheep, and allowed himself to be slain by Jewish fury, his sheep are plundered by the onset of the Gentiles, as of robbers; they are shut up in prisons to be slaughtered, as in the dens of brigands;
they are ceaselessly torn by persecutors as by raging wolves, they are gnawed by heretics as by strange dogs with rabid tooth. This the slain choir of the apostles proves; this the blood of the martyrs, spread over the whole world, cries aloud; this the limbs of Christians—given to beasts, consumed by fires, sunk in rivers—plainly demonstrate: all of which, just as the shepherd's death brought on, so his life could have prevented. Therefore for thee, O shepherd, he proves his love by death, because when he sees peril threatening the sheep, when he cannot defend the flock, he would rather die than see any harm come to his sheep. But what shall we do, since Life could not die unless he had willed it? Who could have taken away the soul, against his will, from the Giver of the soul, since he himself says:
I have power to lay down my life, and I have power to take it up again; no man taketh it from me. Therefore he willed to die, who, though he could not die, allowed himself to be slain. Let us then inquire what is the force, what the reason of this love, what the cause of this death, what the profit of this passion. And plainly the force is sure, the reason true, the cause shining, the profit of so great a blood most manifest: for from the shepherd's single death one singular power shone forth; the shepherd met the death that threatened the sheep, in place of the sheep, that by a new order the captive might capture the devil, the author of death, the conquered might conquer, the slain might punish, and by dying might open for the sheep the way of conquering death. For the devil too, while he aims at man, leaped upon God;
while it rages against the guilty, it runs upon the Judge; it finds punishment while it inflicts a penalty; it itself receives sentence while it pronounces sentence; and death, living upon the food of mortals, dies while it devours Life: death, swallowing the guilty, is itself swallowed while it gulps down the Author of innocence; and death itself perishes, which was destroying all, while it seeks to slay the salvation of all. Therefore in such fashion the shepherd went before the sheep; the shepherd did not withdraw from the sheep; nor did he give them to the wolves, but delivered the wolves to them—to whom he granted thus to choose their own plunderers, that being slain they might live, being torn they might rise again, dyed in their own blood they might shine in royal purple, and gleam in snow-white fleece. So the good shepherd, when he laid down his life for the sheep, did not lose it; and he so held the sheep, that he did not forsake them;
nor did he thus forsake the sheep, but in life he called them—whom through mortal fields, through the road of death, he called to life-giving pastures and led them thither. But someone says: When shall these things be? Behold, meanwhile the sheep—that is, the apostles, prophets, martyrs, and confessors—lie buried: torn asunder they are scattered over the whole world, wrapped in blood, shut up in foul tombs. And who doubts that the slain martyrs shall rise again, live, and reign, since Christ, being slain, rose again, lives, and reigns? Hear the voice of this shepherd: My sheep hear my voice, and follow me. It is necessary that those who followed unto death should follow unto life; that those who accompanied unto reproach should accompany unto honor;
and that they should be partakers of glory, who were partakers of the passion. Where I am, he says, there also shall my minister be (John 12). Where? Assuredly above the heavens, where Christ is, sitting at the right hand of God. O man, let not faith trouble thee, let not hope, though long deferred, weary thee: for the matter is sure to thee, which is kept for thee in the very Author of all things. You are dead, he says, and your life is hidden with Christ in God; when Christ, who is your life, shall appear, then you also shall appear with him in glory (Col. 3). The laboring reaper shall see in the harvest what he sees not in the seed, and he who weeps in the furrow shall rejoice in the fruit.