SHEPHERD’S TALE
First Congregational Church of Evanston
Christmas Eve 2006 Family Service
Luke 2:1-20
Rev. Dr. James E. Roghair, Interim Minister
It is surely alright for an old man to tell his stories. Sometimes the little ones ask me again, and again – my grandchildren – my neighbor’s children – even the great-grandchildren. So I have them sit down, and I tell this story.
There are a lot of things I have forgotten over the years – so many years! But what happened that night, I never forget. It is as clear to me as it was then.
And so, my children, if you want to hear it again, I will tell it one more time!
Once upon a time, we were there on the hillside– my father and older brother and I. I was just a little guy. We were watching our sheep – someone always has to watch them. It was a dark and chilly night. The sheep were quiet – keeping near each other for warmth. And we slept near them, too, wrapped in old sheepskins.
But someone had to stay awake watch for wolves – to make sure the sheep didn’t wander off. And so we took turns, while the others slept. We watched the stars to mark the time for changing the guard – taking our turns.
It was a pretty good life – and things were usually predictable – until that night. Unsually nothing ever seemed to happen.
That night, my dad and brother were sleeping – I thought I heard them snoring that night. Yes, I know they were snoring. And I sitting there in my usual spot – leaning up against a rock – the same rock my grandfather leaned on when he taught me so many things.
As I said, nothing much ever happened. Things were always the same when we were watching the sheep.
But then I had a sense that something was happening. Something not right! Perhaps the sky was starting to light up – but it was only midnight. Perhaps there was some little sound. I perked up, but I wasn’t sure what was happening. I called out to my father and brother to wake up.
My brother said, “If there is a wolf, scare it away. You know what to do!” And my father said, “It’s all right son, just keep doing your job until it’s time to switch off. I’ve got to get some sleep.”
I tried to relax. But the sky got brighter and suddenly there was that big sound! My dad and brother finally did wake up. And they saw it too: The bright light. And they heard it, too: The loud singing. We were really scared. We didn’t know what to think. We tried to hide our faces.
But one of them said, “Don’t be afraid...”
But, how could we not be afraid?
I think the bright ones were angels. But I don’t know.
When all the singing was over and the bright light had faded, my Dad said, “We have to go Bethlehem and see about this.”
“But what about the sheep?” my brother asked.
“It is so important that we have to go,” he said. So we built a big fire to keep away the predators. We went to Bethlehem.
But it didn’t seem like anything was happening in Bethlehem. In town was pretty quiet. There were a lot of horses and donkeys tied around. It looked like a lot of travelers in town. But ‘most everybody was sleeping. There were a few people drinking at the Inn.
When we peaked in at the inn door, just to ask them where a new baby might be, they scolded us:
“Get out of here, you smelly shepherds.”
“And don’t come around here telling us about angels!”
“What have you shepherds been drinking, anyway?”
“Out!”
We didn’t know what to do. But as we were closing the door, the innkeeper slipped out to us and told us to go around to the barn. A man and a woman might be there, he said. She looked like she might be going to have a baby.
We thanked him. And we went to see for ourselves. And sure enough we found them. The parents and this tiny baby, all wrapped up. They looked exhausted – and so very poor. We kneeled and said a prayer. As we were leaving, the young mother nodded her head, as if she knew why we had come. And the young man thanked us. And that was it.
What a strange thing! We never saw that baby or his parents again. Maybe they ran away. The Romans were so terrible – they even went out and killed baby boys in our town. I hoped that they got away. But I have often wondered what happened to that baby.
Many years later, when I was already a father of my own children, we heard about a prophet who spoke like no other prophet – who healed the sick – and cured the lame. “Jesus” I think they called him. We wanted to go see him, but then trouble came, and the Romans killed him. I heard he was a good man, but we didn’t get to see him.
But there were rumors that this prophet was the baby we saw in the manger. But I don’t know. It might have been true.
We were just a family of poor shepherds. We had heard about prophecies, of course, but they wouldn’t let us go into the temple. And we had no scrolls, but we wouldn’t have been able to read them, anyway. We were never invited to listen to the scribes reading from the sacred scrolls. And the Pharisees kept us out of the temple in the big city. They treated us like foreigners that didn’t belong. They said we were unclean.
So why did angels come to us? Was God trying to tell us something wonderful? Why would did God send angels to poor shepherds, anyway? What could God have been thinking?
I never became rich or famous. I never went far from Bethlehem. Now I’m old, but the experience on that night changed me. I have never been the same again.
Maybe that night changed the world, too. I think so. What do you think?
Last Updated: Wednesday, February 6, 2008