This sermon was offered at Grace Memorial Church in Wabasha, Minnesota. The Gospel text is Luke 2:1-20, the birth of Jesus. Please note, this holds a copyright, please only use with permission.
Let me tell you another story. It’s a story
of unexpected transformation in the midst of everyday life. It’s a story where individual worth comes
from a small gesture. It’s a story of
miracles, of wandering, of stars and angels and of a shepherd who meets an
unlikely savior in an unlikely place.
This shepherd tells the story this way:
“Did you see it? It was brighter than any star I have ever
seen. I had been watching the sky for
weeks. Three stars kept getting closer
and closer to each other. Finally, they
got close enough to one another to make a single light. Even the sheep looked up, wondering if night
had turned to day. The ground shimmered
in the light, the dew twinkling back at the stars. I knew something big was going on.
“Did you see the angel? A glowing figure came up over the crest of
the hill. I didn’t know who it was, but
they floated toward me with their arms outstretched and told me, in the kindest
voice to not be afraid. I have to tell
you, I was shaking so hard I had to poke my staff into the ground and hold it
tight so no one could see me tremble. I
mean, why was this angel talking to me and the other shepherds? No one ever gives us that kind of
attention. Certainly, no one tells us of
any important news. Why now? Why US?
“The angel told us that the Messiah was
born. I was shocked. I had heard rumors of this Messiah when I
would go into the villages, but they were talking politics: about a regime
change; they were talking about a man coming and making the world equal; they
were talking about a more “just” society; they were talking about a warrior;
they were talking about someone who would change the world. They were not talking about a child. But the angel was saying this Messiah was born.
It sounded like it was a baby who was chosen, not a man. I have seen miracles here in the fields. I have seen tiny lambs become the strongest
rams. I have seen the weakest sheep
protect themselves from wolves and snakes.
I have seen life and death and everything in between. I could only trust this angel was telling me
the truth.
“Did you see what came next? Hundreds of glowing figures filled the sky
and started singing. I couldn’t exactly understand
what they were saying, but there was so much joy in their voices, so much hope
in their song, it just didn’t matter. My
heart was filled with contentment and excitement all rolled into one. I had never felt such peace. It was different than lying on my back and
looking at the stars at night. It was
more of a welling in my belly, knowing that all will be well.
“Did you hear what I heard? I couldn’t believe it. The angel told me to go to where the star was
pointing. It was in Bethlehem, I could
tell. Not far, about a day or two
walk. The other shepherds were told to
go too, so together we gathered our bundles of possessions, some food and the
livestock and began the journey over the hills.
I didn’t want to think about what the villagers would think when we
herded our sheep through their town. I
knew that they would turn their noses away, avoiding the stench from the herd,
and to be honest, from me. Heh, heh. I decided it would be better to try to go
through town during the night.
“Together we walked in expectant
silence. None of us knew what to say…or
maybe we didn’t want to sound like we were crazy. We just herded our sheep toward Bethlehem
during the night. Resting on the outskirts when the sun was
shining and the people were about, we waited for night to fall and the stars to
light show us the way.
“Imagine my surprise when I saw the light
from the star shining on a cave on the far side of town. How could this be the Messiah? This baby was born like a lamb in the field,
dirty and alone. Heh, heh. Dirty and alone. Like me.
“The momma looked like it had been a hard couple
of nights. The papa let her rest as he
told us the story of their journey to Bethlehem. The census had brought them here. They had to follow the law, even though the
girl was nearly ready to give birth.
They traveled at a pace that kept her comfortable, but quick enough to
arrive in time. It was a difficult
journey, and they hoped that once they got here, someone would kindly help the
young family. But there was no place for
them to stay. They were rejected from
home and inn all over town. I understood
what that feels like. No one will even
open their door to me. They are afraid
of the shepherds because we are dirty and we travel from pasture to pasture. They don’t know if they can trust us. If they would just talk to us, they would
learn we aren’t so bad. Smelly, yes. But most of us are pretty good guys. Besides, where do they think they get their
wool for their clothes and the meat for their table?
“But this momma and papa were shunned,
too. They were treated like
animals. They weren’t trusted or
welcomed, except by the animals who know what it is like to give birth outside,
who know what it feels like to have to huddle together and share their body
heat in the wind, rain and cold. They
were, dare I say it, treated more poorly than any shepherd.
“The baby seemed to glow in the
starlight. Mary, the momma, let me hold
him for a few minutes. He didn’t even
cry when I brought him close to my chest.
I could feel his heartbeat next to my skin and I smelled the familiar
odor of new birth in his hair. Gentle,
like a lamb, soft like the down of a dove, the baby boy was so vulnerable but
at the same time I could sense his strength.
And then, he opened his eyes and looked at
me. In that moment I felt like the most
important person in the world. I felt
seen. I felt valued. I felt…loved.
It was in that moment I knew he was more than a baby born in a
cave. He was a survivor. No. He
was more than that. He was a
savior. I knew that this baby really was
the Messiah we were waiting for.
“When I gave the baby back to Mary, she
looked into my eyes, deeply, as if she was memorizing my expression. What was I telling her? Was it appreciation for allowing me to hold
this incredible child? Was it worry,
wondering if the baby had a chance at survival after being born in a cave? Did she see that I was hoping, no, believing,
this child would indeed, change the world?
I don’t know if it was any of these things, even though all were what I
was thinking. Through her exhaustion I
could see how much she loved the boy named Jesus. I was honored that she would let me come into
this space at such an intimate time between mother and child.
“I dug a rabbit skin out of my bag and gave
it to Mary to help keep the boy warm.
Then, I backed out of the cave, reverently. This young girl deserved such respect for her
bravery at birthing her boy in this place.
I caught the papa’s eye and thanked him for sharing this child with
me.
“When I was far enough away, I turned and
walked back to my flock, filled with joy and wonder.
“The flock was huddled close together, my
dogs circling them, protecting them from predators. We lingered there for a few nights,
protecting Mary and Jesus from a distance and then we moved along.
“I carry a song in my heart and sometimes it
springs from my lips. You may see me
looking off into the distance, humming the angel’s song, with a smile on my
face. My joy is complete. My hope is secure. My life is forever changed, even as I
continue to do what I have always done.
The Messiah has come. Joy to the
World!”
© January 2, 2016 May
use with permission only. Contact revdebbied@gmail.com for permission.