One question that came up again and again in the first years of the Church was the question of just how far God’s love could reach, of how broad this new community should be. Who was in and who was out? Again and again they asked the question: “Can we include this person? This stranger? This foreigner? This person whose appearance and speech and habits are so different from everything we know?” Again and again they asked. And again and again the Holy Spirit taught them that the answer was “yes.” Yes, God’s love could reach so far.

Sheep aren’t exactly admired. They’re seen as stupid, dependent, easily frightened, prone to falling into ditches and getting stuck. And they probably don’t smell very good. Sheep stand around all day and eat grass. No sheep has ever been a hero, or written a great poem, or held a deep thought.

All this bad sheep PR creates some cognitive dissonance for people of faith, though, doesn’t it? I mean, think about it. Today we talk about Jesus as the Good Shepherd, the one who lays down his life for the sheep. But if Jesus is the shepherd, what does that make us?

We might as well face it. It makes us sheep.

A couple of weeks ago, I found myself volunteering with a group of people I’d never met before. They were all church-goers, but not Episcopalians. I knew this morning’s sermon was coming up, and I was looking for ideas. And so I asked them what questions they had about Easter. One wanted to know what Jesus meant when he said, “It is finished” from the cross. Another asked why “Good Friday” is called “Good.” A third said, “what’s up with the eggs and bunnies?”