17 December 2006

061217ser
Zephaniah 3:14-20; Philippians 4:4-7; Luke 3:7-18

I found a story on the internet this week from Barry Robinson, the author of a website entitled “Keeping the Faith in Babylon” that is used in relation to our scripture readings. Robinson writes that one of his favorite stories is the legend of "How St. Francis Taught The People of Gubbio To Feed Their Wolf." It is a strangely humorous story with layer upon layer of meaning according to Robinson.

In a nutshell, the people of Gubbio have a problem. The bloody remains of some of their townsfolk start showing up on the streets of their beautiful city when people awake in the morning. Since the people of Gubbio are very proud people, they are convinced that "a stranger" passing through must be responsible for the terrible crime. Nevertheless, they begin to "lock" their doors at night. When more deaths follow, the same denial "that no one in Gubbio could be responsible for such a thing" is expressed over and over again.

And then, someone sees a wolf wandering the streets of Gubbio one night after everyone has retired; and the people of Gubbio realize that there is a wolf living in the dark woods on one side of Gubbio. Of course, this could not be their wolf; because they never asked this wolf to come to Gubbio. Immediately, they begin to find ways to dispatch this wolf.

After a number of futile attempts, the people get desperate enough to approach the holy man of Assisi who has a reputation for being able "to talk to animals".

St. Francis "speaks" to the wolf and gives the people what appears to be some strange and, not entirely, welcome advice.

He tells the people of Gubbio that they must "feed" their wolf.

At the first, the people are not impressed with this suggestion and begin to wonder why they ever approached the holy man in the first place. And, then, something miraculous happens. Bit by bit, people begin to leave food out for the wolf as he prowls the streets of Gubbio. The violent deaths cease and it is not long before every man, woman and child has learned how to "feed their wolf." As a result, the people of Gubbio are transformed.

They become more easy-going, less arrogant human beings.


Robinson says that people who hear this story for the first time have a variety of reactions to it.

Some are immediately amused by the story and identify with the proud people of Gubbio. They recognize that haughtiness that has to "blame it on strangers" when something goes wrong. The denial and avoidance of the townsfolk are all too familiar. In laughing at the people of Gubbio as they come to terms with their wolf, they realize that they themselves can find healing and freedom by embracing the negative aspects of themselves, their community and their church, that part of the story that is symbolized by the wonderfully vague image of "the wolf."

Other people, however, just don't get it. Or worse, they are offended by the suggestion of a self-identity that incorporates rather than excludes "their" wolf. They decline the invitation to befriend and feed that which they fear most in themselves and each other and miss the opportunity to come to a new and healthier understanding of themselves.


We get equally confounding advice from scripture this third week of Advent. This is Gaudete or Rejoice Sunday, a time when we stop the waiting and watching and preparing of advent and just rejoice.

Paul’s message to us this morning from Philippians is to “rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.”

And from the ancient prophet Zephaniah we are told, “Sing aloud, O daughter Zion; shout, O Israel! Rejoice and exult with all your heart, O daughter Jerusalem!”

Those sound like appropriate Yuletide scriptures. Rejoicing and singing abound.

But then we reach the gospel lesson where John the Baptist preaches, “Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.”

We’re reminded that God is not Santa Claus who knows whether we’re naughty or nice but Jesus who comes among us and calls us to turn around and follow him. Like the good folk of Gubbio, we need to recognize and feed our wolf. Feeding our wolf, means recognizing those parts that need to be chopped down and thrown into the fire so that we may properly rejoice.

Rejoicing requires that we are not afraid to face our own wolves and feed them so they don’t do further damage. It’s looking deep within ourselves and recognizing the wolf side of us that we don’t like to show in public.

Once we have faced and fed our wolf, we are ready to rejoice. We can then get on with the joy that is part of our lives. We can be like Paul, who writing from prison says that he is ready to rejoice and that in any situation he has learned to be happy.

The Good News of Advent is that God has come, is coming and will continue to come among us, calling us to repentance and to turning ourselves around, as John did among those first century crowds who came to him for baptism.

This advent, take time to rejoice. The waiting and preparing will continue but do so in joy. “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice!”