Henrietta United Church of Christ

Rev. David Inglis Luke 2:8-14

December 25, 2005

“To You!”–a Shepherd’s Story

(Entering from the rear) Wow! What an amazing place! I’ve never been in such a pretty place before. And look at all these people! Imagine me, a shepherd, being in a place like this talking to you! I’m used to religious people sticking their noses up in the air when they see me, and everybody else just plugging their noses!

You know, I got kicked out of the Temple in Jerusalem once. I didn’t even do nothin’ either, as far as I could figure. I just wanted to feel closer to God. I’ll tell you how it happened, if you want.

I used to think about God a lot out there in the lonely hills outside Bethlehem. Have you ever looked up at the sky at night and peered into the deep blackness that’s filled with stars as far as you can see? Doesn’t it make you feel so small? And yet, sometimes you feel like you’re not alone, that you’re a part of it all somehow. Well, I wanted to find a way for God to notice me, little old Joshua, down here, and let Him know that I was thinking about Him. I wondered what I could do to get God’s attention. Maybe if God looked down on me kindly, He’d make my life a little easier too. Maybe I could give God a gift, and that would make Him notice me. But what could I give him? All I had was sheep. Would God want a sheep? If you want to know the truth, sheep are pretty dumb animals. Sheep can’t see any farther than what is right in front of them. As much as they like tender grass and a good drink of water, they never seem to be able to find it on their own. If one sheep starts heading for a cliff and acts like he knows what he’s doing, the others just follow right along. Sheep are always getting hurt, or getting lost. That’s why they need a good shepherd. But there was one old ewe in my flock who seemed to have a little sense. I called her Rebecca. She’d look out for the younger sheep and even teach them to come to my call and lead them into the fold at night. She wasn’t much to look at any more, but she was my favorite. I thought maybe God would appreciate her, and He would understand that I was giving Him my best.

Well, the way we gave things to God back in my day was to take them to the Temple for a sacrifice. So I asked my shepherd friends to watch my flock one day so I could take Rebecca to the Temple in Jerusalem. They looked at me like I was touched, but I knew it was something I needed to do.

But when I handed her to the priest to take her up on the big altar for the sacrifice, he got all red in the face and started yelling at me. “How can you dare to present a blemished old sheep like this for a sacrifice to God? Don’t you know anything about the law? You’ll have to buy a spotless young animal from one of the priests in the courtyard. You’re a shepherd, aren’t you? What would you know about God’s holy law? At least you ought to know that God’s Temple is a holy place. People who come here are supposed to be pure and clean. Now take your mangy old sheep and get out of here, and don’t come back until you learn how to tell the difference between what is holy unto God and what’s an insult to God!”

I started to say, “But Rebecca here is the best sheep in my flock.” But he wouldn’t listen. He just said, “You heard me. Now go!”

Now I knew why shepherds didn’t go to the Temple, and tried to stay away from proper people in general. I suppose everybody who looked at us thought the same things that priest said out loud to me.

Maybe they were right. I knew I couldn’t keep all the laws about washing and purifying myself and cooking in certain ways and keeping the Sabbath and thinking pure thoughts like I was supposed to. But I had to wonder. The priests and the religious authorities claimed to be speaking for God, so the people followed them like sheep. But the places they led the people seemed more like the thorny points of the law than green pastures. We needed a real shepherd, someone who knew his sheep and really cared about them, someone who knew how to lead them to the green pastures that nourish their souls and could draw them closer to God.

I thought about things like that sometimes on those starry nights out on the hillside. It was one of those brilliant nights that I wanted to tell you about. On that particular night, I wasn’t alone. It was early in the year, and there was still good grazing in the hills close to Bethlehem. So four of us shepherds herded our flocks over to the same hill and sat together at the top to keep each other company. But as we all looked into the deep, star-filled sky above us, I swear, it felt like there was more than just us out there. The heavens almost seemed to be looking back at us. We all sat there, gazing up at the sky in silence. And then, it was as though whatever this strange presence was became visible in the form of a light, a light that was brighter than any light we had ever seen. We started to run for cover! But a voice spoke to us. I still don’t know if I heard it with my ears or with my heart. It said, “Don’t be afraid! I have good news of great joy for all people. This very day in King David’s town a Savior was born for you.

What was happening to us? I vaguely remembered hearing as a child that the prophet Micah had said that the Messiah would be born in Bethlehem. But that had been many generations ago. If this prophecy was being fulfilled after all this time, it surely wouldn’t be a few scruffy shepherds who would get the advance notice!

The angel, or whatever it was, seemed to sense our doubt. The voice spoke again, “You will know who he is, because you will find him wrapped in cloths and lying in a feed box.”

And then, I kid you not, it was like the whole sky burst into singing. It was beautiful voices filling the whole sky singing praises to God.

I think your Bible says that we made haste to go to Bethlehem. That sounds so polite! We didn’t just make haste–we ran out of there like we’d never run before. I don’t know about the others, but it wasn’t so much because I wanted to see a baby. I was too scared to stay anywhere near that hillside, sheep or no sheep!

But when we finally slowed to a walk close to town and caught our breath, we tried to make some kind of sense of what had just happened. The Messiah being born that day in Bethlehem. . . that part we could half believe. But lying in a manger–a dirty feeding box? Wasn’t God perfectly holy and pure and mighty? And we had all heard the angel say the same thing: “The savior is born for you.” He was speaking to us. None of this was making any sense!

We wandered around town a little, not at all sure what to expect. But then we heard the cry of a baby. It seemed to be coming from behind a shabby old inn. We followed the sound to a stable. Even for us shepherds, the smell seemed pretty strong! Back in the corner were a frightened girl and a man looking at us suspiciously. And right between them was a feeding box, with a baby moving around and making baby noises! We just stood there with our mouths hanging open.

Without thinking, we fell to our knees in front of that red little baby. I felt like I should pray or do something holy, you know? But my eyes were too full of tears. I thought I would never know anything but being dissed by people and forgotten by God. Why God chose us unholy nobodies to give His gift to, I couldn’t explain. But here it was, just like the angel had said!

We tried to tell the young couple what had happened to us out on the hill. They didn’t look at us like we were crazy. In fact, the frightened, defeated look on their faces gave way to a look of hope. Then they began telling us about how angels had talked to them too. It was like we were the first ones who had ever believed them!

Before we left, we all stood around the manger in a holy circle of love and hope. We wondered what God had in mind for this child.

Then some words from the prophet Ezekiel came into my head. I must have heard them somewhere before, but they came out of my mouth like I said them every day:

I myself will be the shepherd of my sheep, and I will make them lie down, says the Lord God. I will search for the lost, and I will bring back the strayed, and I will bind up the injured, and I will strengthen the weak,... and I will feed them with justice” (Ezek. 34:15-16).

Could it be that God Himself was coming to us to be our shepherd? Was it possible that the almighty and holy God was making his home with the lost and rejected, so that He could find His sheep and call them back to Him? I hadn’t been able to give God my most precious sheep so He would know I loved Him. But that didn’t seem to matter. God was giving us His most precious son so we would know He loved us.

We practically floated out of that stable. The stars never seemed so bright, and heaven never seemed so close. And we didn’t mind being around people any more. If God thought we were worth something, what did it matter what people thought? We never get tired of telling them what we had seen and heard–that God had at last come to all of us–all of us–to be our shepherd.

That’s what I came to tell you. God came to be your shepherd too. Even if he had to be born in a smelly animal stable and sleep in a feeding box, He wanted us to know that He came for us–for all of us. He’s a shepherd who really knows and loves his sheep. He came to find us when we’re lost, and help us keep from getting tangled up in the thorns, and help us find the green pastures that feed our souls. This baby that was born on Christmas is God’s gift to us.

When you get a gift from someone who loves you, don’t you open it and receive it? This Jesus that was born for us in God’s best gift to us. Won’t we receive him, as our shepherd, and let him lead us and care for us and bring him into his fold?