Luke 2:8-16

Jeremiah stepped quietly inside the house, closed the door softly, and moved over to stand by the fire. Such behavior worried his mother, because usually her young son burst through the door and forgot to close it. She put down the vegetable knife and went over to stand behind him, her hands on his shoulders. For a couple of minutes, neither spoke. Finally he looked up at her. “Mom, why can’t I go to synagogue school? Why can’t I study the Torah like everyone else?”

Deborah looked over at her husband. He had heard the question. He remembered asking the same question himself, back when he was a child. And he remembered the answer he had been given.

Benjamin walked over to his son and sat down on the floor beside him. He motioned for Jeremiah to sit in his lap. He felt the pain that he knew his parents had felt before him. How could he tell his son that he was different from the boys he played with, the boys he had grown up with. That he could never worship in the synagogue with them. That he would not be married by a rabbi. That he was unclean.

And so he began.

“Jeremiah, I’m a shepherd. You know that. My job is to care for the sheep. Not just our sheep, but all the sheep in the community. That is what our family — for many generations — has done, and will do — for many more generations. Your uncles and I are good shepherds. We take good care of everyone’s sheep. At lambing time, we watch the ewes carefully, so that all the lambs are born healthy.

“But not everyone likes us. Some people say that we steal their lambs if something happens to ours. Some people say we always give our own sheep better pasture than theirs. It’s a job nobody else wants to do, but they don’t like us, no matter what we do or how careful we are.”

Benjamin paused. He was trying to remember the words his father had used. But it didn’t really matter. No matter how you said them, it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. And it hurt. Especially when you said them to your child.

“You know we don’t go to the synagogue each sabbath. We don’t go, because they won’t let us in. They won’t let us in because we smell like sheep. They won’t let us in because we don’t make the pilgrimages to Jerusalem each year. We don’t make the pilgrimages because someone has to stay and care for the sheep. That’s our job, so we do it. But because we don’t make the pilgrimages, we are unclean. Because we are unclean, we don’t belong to the synagogue. Because we don’t belong to the synagogue, you can’t go to synagogue school.”

Jeremiah looked at his father with the same expression of confusion that Benjamin had looked at his father. He understood the words, but even at his age, he also understood that the logic was wrong.

“Abba, do you know how to read? Can you teach me?”

“No, Jeremiah. I didn’t go to synagogue school either. I didn’t study the Torah. I didn’t learn to read. And nobody else would teach me.”

There was a long silence, as Jeremiah processed that information. He understood that his father was telling him that nobody else would teach HIM to read, either. And he also understood, even at his young age, that it wasn’t fair.

Finally Benjamin hugged Jeremiah a little tighter. Then he held him out at arm’s length.

“Now, I want to tell you something that happened to me a few years ago. Just before you were born. I don’t know if it will make a difference, but I think it will. I’ve told you many stories about taking care of the sheep, but I have been saving this story for this time.”

Jeremiah snuggled back into his father’s lap, his head against his father’s chest. He loved hearing the stories his father told him.

Deborah finished putting the vegetables in the pot hanging over the fire and settled down with Benjamin and Jeremiah. Supper would cook while they listened to the story.

“It was night,” Benjamin began, and his voice changed to reflect the feelings he had as he returned to the past. “It was cool, not cold, but cool. Your uncles were all there, and your grandfather. Simeon, Daniel, David, Zachariah, Micah, Grandpa, and me. Seven of us. Sitting around the fire. Every once in a while one of us would go out and check on the sheep. We had to be especially careful at night, so that nothing attacked the flock. Most of the dogs were in position around the flock, watching for predators, keeping the flock together.

“After a while we noticed a strange light in the sky. It was bigger than a star, and it seemed to be moving toward us. At first it was just something to watch and wonder, but then we realized that it really was coming toward us, and it was getting bigger and bigger! Finally it was about the size of a human being and it was right there with us! The light was shaped like a person, but it was glowing! And let me tell you, we were scared to death!

“But the strange thing was that the dogs didn’t bark and the sheep didn’t move! Like either they didn’t see it, or they weren’t afraid of it! Well, we COULD see it, and we WERE afraid of it!

“And then it spoke! Or maybe it didn’t speak. Maybe we just heard it in our heads. I’m not sure. But what we understood was an assurance, not to be afraid. There was something comforting in its presence.”

For a moment Benjamin paused. He remembered the mixed feelings as if it had happened just last night. Awe and wonder! This must be an angel of the Lord!

“But if this really WAS an angel of the Lord, then we had good reason to panic! We were unclean shepherds! Outcasts! What would an angel of the Lord do to us?”

“Then we did hear words. Soft, gentle words. “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”

Again Benjamin paused. Then he continued, but his voice rose. “‘YOU!’ Did you hear that? The message was for US! For us shepherds! Not for the rabbi! Not for the elders of the synagogue! For US! … Listen, and count the number of times the angel said, ‘you,’ meaning ‘us.’”

“‘Do not be afraid; for see — I am bringing YOU’” (Deborah joined them as they each held up one finger) “good news of great joy for all the people: to YOU” (another finger on each of three hands) “is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for YOU:’” (three more fingers) “‘YOU’” (a fourth finger on each hand) “‘will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.’”

Benjamin looked at his hand, at Jeremiah’s hand, and at Deborah’s hand. He counted the fingers on his son’s hand. “One, two, three, four. … Shepherds do learn to count, you know. We have to be able to count the sheep!” He repeated, more slowly. “One … two … three … four! Four times the angel said, ‘YOU,’ meaning ‘US!’ Four times. The message was for US!

“And if that wasn’t enough, suddenly there dozens, maybe hundreds, of heavenly beings. They sang, ‘Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.’

“Now I can count a flock of sheep, but I didn’t even try to count the number of angels with us right then! To be honest, I was too afraid! One angel … that’s one thing. But THAT many … well, let me tell you, I wasn’t the only one trembling in my sandals right then!

“And then, just as fast as they had come, they were gone! Not one of them was left! Just us, the sheep, and the dogs! But the words kept ringing in our ears. ‘Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.’ Were WE among those God favors? God had sent the angel to US! Were we favored by God?

“For a while we just stood there, wondering about that. Then Grandpa said, ‘Well, boys, I think we’ve been sent on a mission.’ We stood up. ‘Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.’ And we headed together for Bethlehem. All of us. We just left the sheep where they were and took off for town.

“It wasn’t far, and we found the baby, wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger, just as the angel said. And his parents.

“We told them what had happened, how the angel had come, the words spoken to us, the whole multitude of angels, their words. And they were amazed. Angels! Coming to shepherds! Bringing them to this place! To this baby! What did it mean? What would happen to this baby? What would this baby do?”

Benjamin paused, thinking, letting his two listeners think.

“Now I’ve thought about this a lot over the last few years. And I’m not sure, but I know that the angel promised us JOY! ‘Good news of great JOY!’ Those were the words. ‘JOY!’ Joy to the outcasts! Joy to the unclean! Joy to shepherds! Joy! The angel of the Lord promised us JOY!

“And I think … I think … I think that means something different is going to happen. I think something is going to happen … someone, maybe that baby, will change the whole world! Something is going to happen that will change the way we think, the way we act toward others. I think this baby is going to turn the world upside down! I think this baby is going to bring justice and peace to everyone! Even to shepherds! I think the time will come when every child, no matter who they are, will be accepted into the family of God. There will be no more outcasts, no more people considered unclean. And there will be JOY for all of God’s children!”

For consideration:

1. How does this story follow its scripture?
2. How does this story expand its scripture for you?
3. What is the message of this story?
4. How does the message apply to us today?
5. How does our understanding of cleanliness differ from theirs?
6. In those days, the son always followed the father’s occupation. How would that work today?
7. Whenever angels appeared, they usually began with “Do not be afraid.” Would that work for you if you recognized an angel with you?
8. We Christians like to say that Jesus coming changed everything. What has changed? What has not?