Christmas Eve

Have you ever wondered why shepherds are the first to hear about the birth of Jesus? I confess I haven’t. Hearing that story from Luke is so familiar and so much a part of all my life, that I can slip into it in the same way I slip into my comfortable evening slippers. They’re stretched and ready, requiring no effort. They’re warm and comfortable and add to my relaxation. This story is just like that. It’s so comfortable to hear these words on Christmas Eve that they often don’t challenge me at all. Until this year. Suddenly, I wondered, “why shepherds?”

Shepherds were the epitome of all that was bad in agrarian culture. The stereotyped shepherd was regarded as a thief who stole, killed and sold the owner’s lambs he was there to protect. Shepherds were seen as ritually unclean and, therefore, unfit for company. Yet angels come to them. Our expectation is that they would be among the last to hear any good news, as unworthy as they were. Yet, contrary to our expectations, they are the first. Luke shows us from the very beginning of the story of Jesus that God is going to care about everyone, no matter what their reputation or station. And isn’t that just like God to surprise us?

Who could have expected God to come as a baby in the first place? If you want to start a revolution in the hearts and minds of people, you come with a trumpet, don’t you? You come with an army, don’t you? You come with a media blitz, don’t you? But not only does God come as a helpless baby, he has the new kingdom announced to shepherds—the lowest of the low. What incredibly good news this is for us!

In my tradition, we often pray that our God is one “unto all hearts are open, all desires known, and from whom no secrets are hid.” That should just scare most of us to death. To think that God knows the innermost junk that clogs up my heart, the desires I have no business harboring, secrets that no one can ever know—to think God knows all that and knew it about the shepherds too, and still he came to them first! What blessed hope this is for us.

I heard a story recently about a woman diagnosed with a terminal illness who had been given only a few months to live. As she faced this, she called her priest and said she wanted to discuss her final arrangements with him. She told him the hymns she wanted sung and what Scriptures she’d like read. She also said she had a favorite Bible she wanted buried with her.

When all seemed to have been said, the priest said a little prayer and was getting up to leave, when she said, “Oh wait. There’s one more thing. This is very important. I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand.” The priest was taken aback and blurted out, “What in the world for?” She explained her wish this way. “In all my years of attending potlucks at church, as we were clearing away the dishes, someone would always lean over and say, ‘Keep your fork.’ It was a signal that some delicious dessert was on the way—my favorite part of the meal. So when people see me in the casket with a fork in my hand and ask why, I want you to say: ‘Keep your fork. The best is yet to come!’”

That’s what Christmas tells us. If the angels and all the company of heaven sing the good news to lowly shepherds, we can be sure that song is for us as well. “The hopes and fears of all the years,” the carol tells us, “are met in thee tonight.” All the promises of the prophets are fulfilled in this baby. All the struggles and disappointments of the people of God are overcome by this tiny bundle of hope and assurance. Our future is secure, our hopes assured. The best is yet to come. Even shepherds know that.

Peace, really!

Jerry+