Outside of Bethlehem, every night of the year, for thousands of years, there have been shepherds watching their flocks by night.
In that respect, this particular night was no different from any other. At least, it started out no different from any other. Sheep huddled in the cold night air. Shepherds keeping watch.
I don’t know how many shepherds were there that night. I don’t know what they were feeling. Perhaps some of them were bored. Perhaps one or two were anxious—about family situations or troubles at work. I wonder if one of them worried over a sick child at home, maybe one that wasn’t going to get well. Perhaps there were shepherds who were indifferent or angry or bitter or stressed. I wonder if some of them were just plain sleepy, worn out by too many late nights out in the fields.
I suspect that these shepherds weren’t all that much different from you and me.
Like most of us most of the time, the shepherds were on the alert for predators, but they were not expecting angels.
Think about it. On your average day, how much time do you spend on the alert for predators? I don’t mean wolves. I mean drivers consumed by road rage who threaten to cut you off on the highway. Or salesmen who try to sweet talk you into purchases you don’t really need and can’t really afford. Or co-workers who offer a cutting remark questioning your competence just as the boss walks by. Some of you might even have experience with predators in your own family—you know about being on the lookout for an angry word tossed like a grenade into the living room.
Now think about how much time, on your average day, you spend on the alert for angels? Not much, I bet.
Like most of us most of the time, the shepherds were on the alert for predators that night, but they were not expecting angels.
There were shepherds living in the fields nearby Bethlehem, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them.
God likes to surprise us!
Luke writes that the shepherds were terrified. Well, of course they were terrified. That’s the normal response when the glory of God intrudes on our little world—terror.
Whispers from God as we come before him in prayer are one thing. Gentle nudges from God as we sleep are one thing. An angel appearing out of nowhere while the night sky suddenly shines bright with the glory of the Lord is a whole different thing entirely.
Whatever the shepherds were feeling before—boredom, anxiety, anger, sleepiness—they were now unified in feeling terrified.
The angel said to them, “Do not be afraid.” Of course, that’s what angels always say. Those are the first words they learn in any human language: do not be afraid.
If I were in that field with the shepherds I’m pretty sure that those comforting words would not be quite enough to stop my knees from knocking. Those words may not have been enough to quell all their trembling, but the words were enough that the shepherds removed their hands from over their faces. The words were enough to encourage the shepherds to listen to and hear the words that followed.
“I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.”
That’s a relief. If the shepherds knew their scripture, they knew that angels sometimes come with good news and sometimes come with bad news. The shepherds could probably relax just a little bit now. Still, they had to be wondering: why is this angel appearing to us? Angels appear to prophets and leaders and mothers-to-be. Angels don’t appear to shepherds.
“Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord.”
It’s a birth announcement!
Of course, the shepherds didn’t know about the angelic birth announcements that came to Mary and to Joseph just months earlier.
But angels have done birth announcements before, and surely the shepherds knew about these. It was an angel that brought the news to Hagar that she would bear a son and name him Ishmael (Genesis 16:7). It was an angel that brought the news to Abraham and Sarah that the birth of the promised son would soon happen (Genesis 18). It was an angel who announced the conception of Samson (Judges 13).
In all of those cases, though, the angelic birth announcement came to one or both of the parents, not to unrelated, unfamiliar shepherds who just happened to be working in the general neighborhood.
There must be something special about this birth announcement.
It’s interesting the way the angel phrases it: a Savior has been born to you. God sent his Son because he so loved the world. But Jesus didn’t just come for the world in general.
Jesus came specifically to a group of shepherds in the fields outside of Bethlehem. Jesus came specifically to a group of magi from the east. Jesus came specifically to a blind man in Bethsaida. Jesus came specifically to a man tormented by demons who lived among the tombs in the region of the Gerasenses. Jesus came specifically to a crippled woman in a synagogue. Jesus came specifically to some fishermen in Galilee named Simon, Andrew, James, and John. Jesus came specifically to a tax collector named Levi. Jesus came specifically to a woman who had suffered much indignity named Mary Magdala.
Jesus came specifically to little children in Korea and South Africa and the Philippines and Japan and Germany and Mexico and America. Jesus came specifically to you and to me.
Take a moment to think about that. It’s true. Today, in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord.
You don’t think you’re special enough? You think you couldn’t possibly matter that much to the God of the universe? Think again.
God sent an angel to announce to a group of humble shepherds: a Savior has been born to you.
That announcement is for you too: a Savior has been born to you.
This Savior is the Christ, the Anointed One, the chosen one, the one who will rule over the house of David forever. He is the King.
Caesar commands armies. Jesus commands angels.
Herod demands taxes and evokes fear, and is only too willing to act by force of violence. Jesus asks for your heart and for your steadfast loyalty, but he will only take what you surrender willingly.
Every ruler of this world lasts only for a time and then is gone. Jesus is King eternally, and one day every knee will bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God the Father.
Jesus is born to be these shepherds’ King. He is born to be my King. He is born to be your King.
“This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”
Shepherds, go. You are invited to visit the baby. You are invited to see the newborn King. You are invited to observe the glory of the Lord wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.
Do not be afraid. God has come to you in a way you can see…in a way you can touch…in a way you can understand. God has come, not to overwhelm you with terror, but to reach out to you with gentleness. Come see the baby. He will show you the way.
Let me borrow a story from another preacher (Terry Laughlin, sermoncentral.com):
On a raw winter night a man heard an irregular thumping sound against the kitchen storm door. He went to a window and watched as tiny, shivering sparrows, attracted to the evident warmth and light that was inside, beat in vain against the glass.
Touched, the farmer bundled up and trudged through the fresh snow to open the barn door for the struggling birds. He turned on the lights, tossed some hay in a corner, and sprinkled a trail of saltine crackers to direct them into the barn. But the sparrows, which had scattered in all directions when he emerged from the house, hid in the darkness.
He tried various tactics; circling behind the birds to drive them toward the barn, tossing cracker crumbs in the air toward them, retreating to his house to see if they would flutter into the barn on their own. Nothing worked and the birds could not understand that he actually desired to help. He withdrew to his house and watched the doomed sparrows through a window. As he stared, a thought hit: “If only I could become a bird – one of them – just for a moment in time… I could lead them to warmth and safety.” Meditating on this thought he grasped one of the principles of the incarnation.
Do not be afraid. God has come to you in a way you can see…in a way you can touch…in a way you can understand. God has come, not to overwhelm you with terror, but to reach out to you with gentleness. Come see the baby. He will show you the way.
Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests.”
The night sky was filled with angels singing God’s praises. Now the shepherds responded not with terror but with curiosity and excitement.
When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.”
This is the attitude God desires to see in all of us when we hear the good news of Christmas—curiosity and excitement. In the midst of all the cookie baking and tree decorating and gift shopping, are we really curious about coming into the presence of the One who was born to us this day? In the midst of all the excitement about opening presents on Christmas Day, are we really excited about the birth of Jesus?
So the shepherds hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger, just like the angels said. God-with-us. Immanuel.
When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.
Christmas Day is just one day out of the year.
Maybe we started this day filled with boredom or anxiety or indifference or sleepiness. Maybe now we are filled with curiosity and excitement. We have come to see the baby, but soon the time comes for us to return too. We can’t stay crowded into the stable peering at the little Holy One in the manger. The time comes soon for us to go back home, to go back to work, to go back to school.
When things get back to normal, will we forget? Will we get back to normal too?
Will we go back to looking out for predators? Or will we keep a look out for angels too?
Will we spread the word concerning all that has been told us about this child? Will we look for signs of amazement on the faces of our hearers? Will we glorify and praise God for the things we have heard and seen?
Will we treasure up all these things and ponder them in our heart?
“Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord.”
