There Were Shepherds
As I was thinking of all the topics worth writing about this week, one global, national, and personal concern after another came to mind. In a few moments, I had a long list of issues to ponder, but then I asked myself if readers deserved a break this week from more worries.
I’m sure the news cycle in the Roman world at the time of Jesus’ birth seemed to residents in the Empire as packed as ours is. Rome had its own version of “Breaking News,” with news criers moving from one open area of a city to another to spread what was new in the government campaign to subjugate the troublesome Brits or what was the new market price for one of life’s essentials, olive oil.
As others have observed, the birth of a child in backwater Judea wouldn’t have created a ripple of interest in Rome. In some ways, the Nativity Story of Jesus remains an easy story to gloss over. The story is so familiar to us that we drift off as soon as we hear the opening words.
Despite overfamiliarity, the birth story of Jesus can still surprise us as it meets us where we are in our modern lives.
Consider the beginning of the birth story from the perspective of the shepherds. It’s night, and like us, shepherds dealt with more fears in the dark. On this night, however, they heard something new: “Don’t be afraid.”
Anyone even remotely awake these days would admit that we live in anxious times. Imagine waking in the middle of the night to hear that message: “Don’t be afraid.” What would be the first worry that would come to your mind? Perhaps your first reaction would be “Easy for you to say. I’ve got a lot to worry about.” The shepherds might have thought something similar.
But the message continues. “I bring good news of great joy.” What would the shepherds have made of that? What do we make of it if we hear it addressed to us? Aren’t we all hoping for some good news?
Any worries that this message is meant for others, for those more worthy than us, are cancelled out by the next words. The message is meant “for all the people” and then more specifically “for you.” In other words, the news will bring joy for everyone, but especially for shepherds. You see, shepherds in Jesus’ day were mainly hired workers who tended sheep owned by others, and because of that, shepherds were commonly viewed as opportunistic thieves unworthy of heaven.
Many people today, if told that they were recipients of great news, would respond uncomfortably, “I think you’ve got the wrong person.” If we are an anxious people, we are also a people who doubt our worthiness.
But that’s where the story gets even more interesting. The message announces that the person born that day will be like a surgeon who can heal the incurable disease that everyone shares, including the shepherds, including us. What an amazing promise.
One of the features of the story that I love is that the shepherds aren’t asked to dress up before meeting their savior, their future healer. They’re invited to come as they are.
And so are we.