“And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night.” The shepherds are part of just about every Christmas pageant. Kids dressing up in robes with their heads covered, carrying their shepherd’s crooks. Sunday’s pageant was no exception, as the three adorable shepherds exclaimed how bright the sky was and how loud the angels were as thousands of angels sang praise to God. We think of Linus with his blanket on his head that magically transforms into the perfect shepherd head covering.
Shepherds weren’t quite so cute in Jesus’ day. These were probably self-employed businessmen. They owned their flocks and cared for them. But they weren’t exactly respected. “They were considered unclean. They were rough characters, kept from proper worship and proper interactions with the ‘good people.’” And yet, after mentioning those big names like Caesar Augustus and Governor Quirinius, we hear about shepherds receiving this good news first. Not the rich or the powerful. But the common people.
It was an ordinary night for the shepherds. They had brought their flock of sheep to the fields to graze on new shoots or on the stubble that had been left after the spring harvest. During the day, they could easily see potential predators and would take turns napping as the others watched. But at night, they needed all their senses to be able to spot trouble. So they were alert, watching and listening for trouble as they struggled to keep their eyes open. Maybe telling ghost stories to keep themselves awake.
And then, the night turned far from ordinary. No giant star is mentioned- that’s Matthew’s gospel. No, it’s the glory of the Lord that shines when an angel appears to the shepherds. “The sky exploded [and t]hey thought their hearts would stop…. They thought it was the end of the world. They thought they would never hold their little babies, or kiss their wives, or laugh with family ever again. They thought all their mistakes were coming back to trip them up, all their failings, all their doubts and brokenness…. They thought they were doomed to disappear into the dark like [in] all th[ose] ghost stories [they told] around the fire in the middle of the night.
“As quickly as all these thoughts raced through their minds, came another, fast on its heels. Fear not. The voice spoke in their heads without having to go through their ears somehow. Good news. They heard or felt, or just somehow knew. To you is born a savior. To …us? they thought. Surely not, maybe the ‘good’ people in town. ‘Maybe the priests and leaders, the rich and powerful,’ they thought. A sign to you, a babe wrapped in cloth, lying in a manger.”
Wait, that meant something to them. This wasn’t some rich prince that had been born in some grand house. This was a house like theirs: with the manger in the floor of the family room, which was on a raised terrace about four feet above the lower area where the animals were brought in on cold nights. The baby would be there if his parents had come in to be counted for the census. Every house was packed, so the guestrooms at the back of the house would have been full as well. The family and the baby were in the center of everything, in a house just like theirs.
And the baby was wrapped in bands of cloth, just as they swaddled their own children- just like their neighbors and mothers had done. These were people like them!
“[And then the glorious] song began…. It brought tears to the eyes of these rough and burly men used to the hazards of the wilderness. It made their hearts light, their minds rest, their hope soar. …When it ended, they didn’t dare to breathe for a long moment. When they did, they looked at one another, hoping they weren’t the only ones to hear this message. But they could tell by the look on each face that it was real, and it was theirs. ‘Let us make haste,’ they said. They made room in their busy schedule; they made their way, breathless and hopeful, [and] turned aside to see.”
Searching briefly, they found that family in the middle of the life of the house. Mary, exhausted. Joseph, beaming. And the child, wrapped in cloths and lying in the divet in the floor that served as a feed trough, or manger.
Unable to contain their excitement, the shepherds left the house and told everyone they encountered what they had experienced that night, and what the angel had told them that it meant: this was great joy for all people, this was the messiah who had been born for them. This was the anticipated Savior. The people weren’t sure what to make of their story at first: these were rough characters. But they were amazed at the story, and at the ones telling it. And the shepherds, having told all they encountered, went back to their flocks and back to their fields. There would be no temptation to doze: the watch would be easy tonight.
God was at work on this ordinary night turned extraordinary when God came and made a home among us. We have been looking at home this season: the kind of home that will complete us and will transform the world. The home of the coming kingdom, where we will study war no more, where people will walk in the light, where joy will be found, and where love will be the tie that binds us together. Tonight, full of the knowledge of God’s love for us, we move forward living in that love. Welcome home!
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