The Rev. Carol S. Wedell
Luke 2:8-20

Nearly 25 years ago during my first year in ministry, I purchased a very simple wooden nativity set.  It's small and the figures are rough hewn - not intricately carved.  Yet every year, it has found a place of honor in our home.  Depending upon the ages of our kids, all three have lobbied to be the one to set it up. 

Last year, I fell in love with one of the nativity scenes that were at our holiday bazaar - one which we had received from SERRV.  With some less than subtle hints from me, Mark bought it for me for Christmas.  I was delighted!  Then later that week, we were at Mark's parents and began sorting through items that they were hoping to give away. I came across another crèche scene. My sister-in-law was not interested in it, so I packed it up with the rest of the things we were taking home.

Within a short period of time, our one simple scene had multiplied to three.  When it came time to put them up this year, we had to give some thought as to where each set should go.  Jessica led the way and carefully arranged all of the pieces - Mary, Joseph, the baby Jesus, the animals, and the magi.

Then she came into the kitchen and asked, "Why don't any of our nativity sets include the shepherds?"  Now mind you, these are three very different manger scenes - although none of them are particularly delicate or fancy.  Yet between all three sets there was not one shepherd!

Unlike Joseph, it was not at all difficult to find carols or hymns that speak about shepherds.  In fact, there are more in our hymnal than we could use in one week! (Although you will notice that shepherds and angels get put together most of the time!) Also unlike Joseph, the gospel of Luke gives the shepherds speaking parts. Yet the absence of the shepherds in our manger scenes is probably not entirely an accident.

At the time of Jesus' birth, shepherds would have been at the lowest rung of the societal ladder.  Luke tells us that they were living outside.  In other words, they had no real home, but along with thieves and other outcasts would have lurked in the darkness.  Garrison Keillor likens them to parking lot attendants - not necessarily the sharpest folks -- doing a job that no one else wanted to do.

Shepherds were often viewed as a lower class -- at best they were seen as common and ordinary. Their labor was essential to the economy - especially these particular shepherds outside of Bethlehem - for their sheep were raised to be the sacrifices in the Temple. Yet since the shepherds work made it difficult for them to be able to attend to religious law, the very people they worked for despised them.

For the most part, shepherds were rough, dirty, and not particularly well-mannered.  Those of you who have ever assisted with a Christmas pageant know that if there is going to be a behavior problem, it will likely be with the shepherds!  And these shepherds were undoubtedly not nearly as well-behaved as we expect our young actors to be!

They were probably out in the fields and not on their way to register because they were not even considered full-fledged citizens, worthy of being counted in the census. They spent all their time driving the sheep across the land of so many different people that they could not really call any place home. Quite literally, they didn't count. And since they made a living sleeping, eating and living with the sheep, they probably smelled much like the sheep they were watching - not at all pleasant!

Not to the emperor, not to the priests, not even to wealthy business people, but "to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay," came life-changing news. To an amazingly unlikely bunch, huddled around a fire, probably taking turns staying awake to keep wild animals or thieves away, God's messenger comes and scares them to death.  How ironic that those who would not have been welcomed in worship are the ones to whom an angel appears. All of a sudden they find themselves in a field blazing with the light of God.  Who wouldn't be afraid?  

The angel messenger is quick to reassure them, "Don't be afraid - I've got great news for you - in fact, for everyone!"  Hmmm.  Good news?  Maybe a new green pasture?  A lost sheep found?  Have the Romans decided to go home?

No.  Nothing so obvious.   Rather, "To you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.  This will be a sign for you:  you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger."  The good news is a baby?  What sense does this make?

You can almost see the shepherds looking at each other with quizzical expressions on their faces - "Did you just hear what I just heard?  Are we imagining this?"  But before they can say much of anything, a whole host of angels appear giving loud and joyous praise to God.  And then as quickly as they had arrived, the angels disappear.

Max Lucado writes, "The shepherds didn't ask God if He was sure He knew what He was doing.  Had the angel gone to the theologians, they would have first consulted their commentaries.  Had he gone to the elite, they would have looked around to see if anyone was watching.  Had he gone to the successful, they would have first looked at their calendar.  So, he went to the shepherds.  Men who didn't have a reputation to protect or an ax to grind or a ladder to climb.  Men who didn't know enough to tell God that angels don't sing to sheep and that messiahs aren't found wrapped in rags and sleeping in a feed trough!"

No, Luke tells us, when the angels left, the shepherds decided among themselves to "go with haste" to Bethlehem and see what's happened.  The Greek actually says, "they kept on saying let's go" suggesting that they knew this was urgent.  And to "go with haste" doesn't mean simply to go quickly, but to really want what you are seeking - to desire earnestly.  Somehow, these simple shepherds - these uneducated, marginal folks -understood that what they had been told was important - really important.  They wasted no time in following the directions of the angel messenger. 

Here's where the faithfulness of the shepherds speaks to me.  They were scared.  They were overwhelmed.   They were also probably more than a little bit confused about what all of this was supposed to mean.  But they didn't sit around until it all got cleared up.  Even with their fear and anxiety, they acted.  They took a chance that what the angel had said was true and went to find out for themselves.  These folks on the fringe of society not only heard the message first, they showed us how to respond.  They didn't check their palm pilot to make sure the date was free.  God's messenger called and they acted.

I wonder - are we able to hear the messengers of God when they come to us?  Or are we so caught up in our own plans and schedules that we miss the glory of God when it comes?  Do we let our fear or anxiety keep us from doing what we sense God is calling us to do?  Or are we willing to set out in faith?  Are we "making haste" to go to the manger?  Is that what we want most of all?  Or have we become distracted with the fun, but too often stressful "accessories" to Christmas that consume our time and energy?

I believe God came to the shepherds first because they were most able to set aside the "stuff" of their every day lives and go quickly and intently to see what God had done.  From the very beginning, God came "to the least of these."  In so doing, we're reminded that the status we might gain from the world around us means nothing to God.  In fact, that very status may keep us from understanding what God is up to.

Many churches do annual Christmas pageants, reenacting the beloved story of Jesus' birth.  Such pageants speak to us deeply, I believe, because they ordinarily include children - who, like the shepherds are often more open and receptive to what God would teach them.  I read this week about one unique pageant that reminded me of the simple response of faith that we see in the shepherds.  Harry Pritchet Jr. tells the story of a Sunday School class that the women of his church held for a group of folks with cerebral palsy:

  It was a cold, bitter rainy day that first Tuesday when the cerebral palsy class performed the Christmas pageant at St. Thomas. There was Mary and Joseph, one little (African American) boy and one little white girl, in wheel chairs. The angel could not keep her arms from flying in the air. The shepherds came on crutches. The Wise Men took a very long time to get from the back of the parish hall to the manger with their arms waving so, pulling their own wheelchairs. It was almost impossible to understand the narrator because of her speech impediment, but we all knew the story any way. No one tried to help anyone else, and no one felt embarrassed. It was quiet at first and then there was laughter and sometimes there were tears. The simple truth from the manger was not denied - some of us have cerebral palsy and some of us do not. Some of us are children and some of us are adults. Some of us are black and some of us are white. Some of us are poor and some of us are rich. (As told on The Protestant Hour)

It may not have been the most "professional" pageant - but the truth of God's coming for all of us could not be missed.

When the shepherds arrive at the manger, they told everyone who would listen what they knew.  They understood that this miracle they had witnessed was for them - but also for everyone else. They must have been stunned when folks actually paid attention to them, for a change!  People who ordinarily wouldn't have given them the time of day, listened in amazement.  I can't imagine what it would have meant to them to have been taken seriously.  Yet when they spoke from their hearts about what they had experienced, they spoke with authenticity, conviction and power. These lowly shepherds were not only the first ones to receive the good news about Jesus - they were the first ones to share it - the first evangelists!

And then these ordinary, smelly shepherds returned home, back to the same fields and sheep they had always known. The fields and sheep may have been the same - but clearly, the shepherds were not.  For now they lived their lives glorifying and praising God.  This event may not have changed their career, but it changed how they viewed life.

Friends, if we follow the shepherds to the manger, that's what is awaiting us, as well - a changed life.  May we too, move past our fear, not letting our overscheduled lives block the sound of angel voices and give God all praise and glory!