December 25 - Christmas Day, Year B (RCL)
Not so much has changed in the last two thousand years.
The first shepherd that I saw in Israel
was standing on a hillside
beside the road
from Jericho
up to Jerusalem.
His flock
were gathered in front of him, apart from a few stragglers further up the hill,
just like in the pictures on Christmas cards,
but there the resemblance ended.
This one was in jeans,
and the hillside not a golf course smooth lawn of green
but a stony, dusty slope,
with barely a dusting of green;
you would have thought
it was hardly worth grazing sheep there.
Half an hour later, as we made our way into one of three traditional sites of the shepherds field
that our gospel today talks about,
I was relieved to see more green.
Well tended lawns,
pine and olive trees,
a graceful fountain with statues of sheep.
But the actual field was below,
a little more green than on the Jericho road,
but not much more hospitable,
great seams of rocks jutting out,
and cave traditionally used for shelter,
and below, another shepherd,
walking stick in hand,
hustling his flock along a dirt road.
It might not be the exact site
where the shepherds first heard those good news of great joy,
but it’s close enough.
Generations upon generations of shepherds
have grazed their sheep here in the hills a couple of miles east
of Bethlehem.
Not so much has changed in the last two thousand years.
The shepherds who first heard the news
were not exactly the sort of people
you would expect God to announce
the birth of the Messiah to.
Many of Israel’s great heroes had been shepherds -
Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and David -
but by the time of the New Testament,
shepherds had fallen
into disrepute.
In a time when most people had moved into towns and villages, shepherds still had a nomadic lifestyle. The dryness of the land meant they had to move about, and stay for long periods of time far from the owner’s home, living with the threat of wild animals and robbers. So although sheepherding required independence and responsibility, it was a hard life, and anyone who could afford it
hired shepherds.
They were outsiders, living in the hills
with just caves for shelter.
They weren’t part of the religious establishment -
sheep aren’t so good at looking after themselves
while you head off for worship, nor were their owners very understanding
of the hired help abandoning their work
for religious purposes.
And while they tolerated animals being sold for sacrifice
the Jerusalem temple authorities
were hardly likely
to allow shepherds to come to worship
complete with their flocks.
And it wasn’t always easy, when you live in a cave far from civilization,
to observe the ritual washings demanded by Jewish religion,
or ensure that all your food
was officially kosher.
Shepherds
were an unlikely group
for God to announce his Messiah to.
But perhaps it was precisely because they were so unlikely
that God chose them.
Perhaps, sitting on a hillside with nothing better to do than watch some sleeping sheep
they were the only ones paying enough attention
to notice the angels.
Because of course, we imagine that first angel
appearing with a shining white robe
suspended from the sky.
But most times, when angels appear in the bible,
they appear to be
just ordinary people.
It’s only when they stop and listen to their message
that people realize
who it is
that they are talking to.
Perhaps the angel had been wandering around a while,
and the shepherds were simply the first people
to pay any attention,
and so it was they who saw the heavenly host,
who received the news
of the birth of the savior.
Or perhaps it was
that the shepherds were so unlikely
as bearers of an important message
that people couldn’t help but listen.
Or at least, couldn’t help but hear
the commotion in the streets
as the shepherds arrived
driving their sheep ahead of them
to find this newborn baby.
Or perhaps it was simply
that God figured
that the shepherds really
needed to hear
some good news.
Not so much has changed in the last two thousand years, has it?
Because when God has something to announce
it doesn’t always work
to go to the most important people.
Imagine what would happen
if our President were to call a press conference and say,
“An angel just appeared to me,
and told me
good news.”
At best, he’d be accused
of mixing church and state.
At worst,
he’d be regarded
as crazy.
Or if a news broadcast began this way,
“Today, just outside of town,
and angel appeared
announcing the birth of a savior.”
We’d think it was a gag report,
created to bring some comic relief
to viewers mired in economic woes
and the pressures of the holiday season.
Perhaps the most effective way
would in fact to do exactly what God did,
and tell someone ordinary,
someone
who wouldn’t expect to be the recipient
of a special message from God.
Because not so much has changed in the last two thousand years
Perhaps if the angel were looking for shepherds,
he might come to children.
We all know
how much children love
Christmas.
Not just Santa and the toys,
but the wonder of this story.
In our Godly Play classrooms,
is one of the favorite stories
after the desert box
is the Holy Family.
The children take the figures of Mary and Joseph and baby Jesus, and the shepherds and the wise men,
and tell the story time and time again,
and if you have children in your house who have been to godly play,
you may find the figures in your creche
mysteriously rearranged
as they tell the story to themselves at home.
Often children
feel like outsiders when it comes to the bible.
There aren’t many stories
about them.
But this one, this story of a baby and shepherds and angels,
this one
they know and love.
They pay attention,
and God comes to them
and announces the birth of a savior.
And perhaps if God were looking for shepherds
God might come to those of us with computers.
Because for news to be broadcast
it no longer has to happen
through official channels.
A status update on facebook,
a tweet, re-tweeted,
a blog entry,
an email greeting,
all of them document
our encounters with the good news of great joy,
so that the coming of the baby
is announced as loudly
as a flock of sheep stamping through the streets.
Or perhaps if God were looking for shepherds
the angel might look for those of us
who just really need to hear
some good
news.
We’re struggling
in this struggling economy.
We feel left behind
by the changes in society.
We’re dealing with health problems,
or tensions in our families.
We’re too busy or too tired.
We’re overwhelmed.
We just need to hear the good news.
Not so much has changed in the last two thousand years.
God still comes to us
and invites us to worship the newborn king,
lying in a manger.
Divinity encapsulated in humanity,
a messiah
in a baby,
God with us.
O come let us adore him.
© Raewynne J. Whiteley 2010