For All the People (Luke 2:1-20)

(Meditation for Gayton Road Christian Church's Worship on December 24, 2016, Christmas Eve)

-----

Why Only the Shepherds?

If the angel in tonight’s scripture is to be believed, the good and joyful news of Christmas is for everyone. “For all the people.”

And yet in tonight’s scripture, it is only the shepherds who hear the good and joyful news. I wonder: why do only the shepherds hear it, if it’s indeed for everyone?

…Because They’re the Only Ones to Respond?

There is an old folk tale that the Jewish rabbis tell. Abraham, they say, isn’t the only person who received God’s call. He’s the only one who said, “Yes.” Israel, they say, aren’t the only people whom God invited into a special covenant. They’re the only people who said, “Yes.”

I wonder—I wonder if a similar tale might not also be told about the shepherds. Imagine with me for a moment. Could it be that on the night Jesus was born, the shepherds were not the only ones to receive a visit from the angel of the Lord? Could it be that the angel in fact delivered the good news of great joy for all the people—to all the people?

Perhaps first the angel went to the kings and princes of the world. But because they were merrymaking in the radiance of their palaces, they could not see the shine of the angel. Nor could they hear the angel’s message above the noise of their festivities.

And so maybe the angel went next to the merchants. But because they were counting money in the light of their lodging, they could not see the shine of the angel. Nor could they hear the angel’s message above the clang of their coins.

And who knows? After that, the angel may have gone to the soldiers. But because they were eating and drinking by the great light of their campfire, they could not see the shine of the angel. Nor could they hear the angel’s message above the clamor of their carousing.

And so it was that, finally, the angel went to the shepherds, who were keeping watch over their flock by night. Dark, silent, empty night. Only the shepherds saw the angel that night, because only they had nothing else to see. Only they heard the angel’s good news, because only they had nothing else to hear.

A Message That Means the Most to the Least

Of course there’s no way to know whether the angel actually visited others besides the shepherds on this night many years ago. But perhaps that question is beside the point. Perhaps the point of such a folk tale is to invite us into the story, to ask us, “Now what about you? Would you see the angel if the angel came to you? Would you hear the angel’s good news?”

If we return to the original story in Luke’s gospel, one thing we can say with certainty is that the shepherds did hear the angel’s good news. They received it joyfully. I think it’s more than coincidence that the shepherds are the ones to hear the angel. In the gospel of Luke, the heroes of faith are almost always on the underside of life. The poor, the crippled, the blind, the lame, the prostitutes, the sick…and here, the shepherds. The good news of a savior is for all people. But it means the most to the least among us, the people who presently have the least reason to celebrate. They are the most inclined to hear the good news, to see it, to rejoice over it. The folks who are satisfied and self-content, preoccupied with their pleasures and pursuits, like the princes and merchants and soldiers of our folk tale, are likely to miss out altogether on the angel’s proclamation. Even if they did hear it, they would be just as likely to think nothing of it. A child is being born somewhere? So what?

All of this makes me wonder. Can I really hear the angel’s good news tonight? I recently learned that my brother’s moving back to Richmond, and so my whole family really is in a festive mood this year. What does the good news of Christmas mean to folks like me and my family, who are relatively satisfied and self-content? Is it possible for us to experience what the shepherds experienced?

Standing with the Shepherds

I have a hunch that if we look deeply enough within ourselves, we will all of us find that we are standing with the shepherds tonight—in dark, empty stillness. Some of us feel the black silence of that night more immediately than others. Some of us are walking through the empty night of grief, feeling the absence of a loved one. Others of us may be walking in the shadows of uncertainty, worrying about a doctor’s prognosis or fretting about a rocky relationship. Still others of us, like my family this year, may really be doing just fine. But just fine is just as needful of a savior, of someone who will breathe new life into old routine, someone who will upset our complacency and excite us with holy adventure.

It’s like the angel says: the good news of great joy is for all people. So come. In our emptiness, our weakness, or simply our need for new life, let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.

Prayer

God of star and song,
Whose good news rings out
Across dark, silent, empty nights—
With the shepherds,
We rush eagerly
To look for you;
And with them,
We rejoice in your love,
Which is made flesh in our lives
As it was on this night long ago.

Amen.