Read: Luke 2:8-18
In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: 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.” And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!” (Luke 2:8-14).
Shepherds get a lot of time to think. But if I had an eternity to think about what happened that night, I don’t think it would be enough to get my head around it. And I only experienced the first part. Somebody had to stay with the sheep, after all.
You may think I was disappointed, and you’d be partially right. But I was also relieved. That first angel was bad enough, but then the whole sky was filled with them. It was deafening. It was dazzling. It was terrifying.
I don’t even remember falling to the ground, but that’s where I was when the angels went back to wherever it was they came from. For a minute, I tried to convince myself that it hadn’t happened. But then I looked around and realized that all the other shepherds—including my father—were also sitting on the hillside staring off into the sky with their mouths hanging open.
Oddly enough, the sheep didn’t seem particularly upset. You’d have thought they would have scattered like—well—sheep. But they didn’t. They just got on with their sheepy business as if heavenly hosts were part of their nightly routine. A few of the ewes were in labor, so you can’t blame them for just getting on with it, I suppose. But still. I guess it was a night for miracles.
My father called everyone together to confer about what we should do. It didn’t take long for a consensus to emerge. “Let us go now to Bethlehem,” my dad said, “and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.”
Then he looked gently at me and said, “Except for you, son. You stay with the sheep.” He must have read the expression on my face as disappointment because he quickly added, “We’ll tell you all about it. I promise!”
Like I say, I was more relieved than disappointed. (My legs still felt like they were made of wool.) And to be honest, I was also a little proud that he trusted me with the job. Lambing time is serious business.
It was a long night, and I helped deliver three healthy lambs. I didn’t have much time to wonder about what the rest of the shepherds discovered in Bethlehem. But when they rushed back just before dawn, my dad came straight over and told me all about it. Everything was just as the angel had said it would be. They’d found a young couple rejoicing over their newborn baby who was sound asleep in a manger.
I just smiled and gave the newborn lamb I was holding a rub with some fresh straw.
“What are you smiling about,” my dad asked. “Aren’t you disappointed you didn’t get to meet the Messiah?”
“Sure, I suppose,” I replied. “But I think the Messiah might understand that a good shepherd has to give up a lot for the sake of his sheep.”
Now it was my dad’s turn to smile. “I’m proud of you, son,” he said, ruffling my hair in the way that he does. “You’re a very good shepherd.”
Ponder: What does this imagined episode help you to notice about Luke’s familiar story? What does it say about the Messiah that the “first noel” was to “certain poor shepherds?”
Pray: May we never grow numb to the wonders of this story.