Of All People, Why Them?

 The Rev. Dr. Skip Ferguson

Manassas Presbyterian Church

Manassas, Virginia

December 18, 2011

Fourth Sunday in Advent

Of All People, Why Them?

Luke 2:8-20

We have such a gauzy, pastoral image of shepherds:

gentle souls watching over their flocks in the heat of the day

and the chill of the night,

bravely protecting their sheep from predators,

leading them to pastures where grass is plentiful

and water abundant,

wiling away the hours playing their flutes and harps,

as adorable lambs gambol and frolic.

The Bible is filled with references to shepherds,

well over one hundred,

and almost all glow with praise.

What was Moses before he led the children of Israel

out of bondage?

When the Lord called to him from the burning bush,

he was tending his flock.

What was David before he became a mighty warrior

and then King of Israel and Judah?

A young man who learned how effective

a rock and sling could be

against any animal intent on picking off

a stray lamb for supper.

David himself sang of God as watchful shepherd

when he wrote those words we know so well:

“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want

he makes me to lie down in green pastures,

he leads me beside still waters.”

Speaking through the prophet Jeremiah,

God said to his children:

“I will give you shepherds after my own heart,

who will feed you with knowledge and understanding.”

(Jeremiah 3:15)

In his recounting of Jesus’ birth,

Matthew reminds us of the prophecy that

came from God through Micah:

“And from you Bethlehem shall come a ruler,

who is to shepherd my people Israel.”

(Matthew 2:6)

“He shall stand and feed his flock in the strength of the Lord.”

(Micah 5:4)

Shepherd strong and proud,

crook solidly in hand,

leading, guiding,

tending, protecting.

And yet, back when Joseph and Mary

sought in vain a room for the night

shepherds were looked upon as filthy, ignorant men;

men who were dishonest

as they led their flocks to graze

wherever they could find grass and water,

even if was someone else’s private property.

A shepherd’s life was hardly romantic,

hardly the stuff of poetry.

It was dirty work,… lonely, dangerous.

A shepherd worked under the baking sun

and through the cold of night.

He worked far from others;

the foul smell of the fold

deep in clothes, hair,

even the skin.

Shepherds were outcasts;

they were unwelcome;

they were despised.

So this leads to the question,

if shepherds were thought of with such contempt,

then why did the angel choose them,

of all people,

choose them to visit on that first Christmas?

Choose them to hear the glorious message,

“I am bringing you good news of great joy

for all the people:

to you is born this day

in the city of David a Savior,

who is the Messiah, the Lord.”

(Luke 2:10)

Why did the angel say to the shepherds,

“to you is born this day … a Savior…”?

To you, in all your dirt, your smell,

your feet caked in muck and mud,

the Savior is born this day – to you,

for you.

Surely the angels could have found better company

had they simply roused the people of that inn

where there had been no room for Joseph and Mary.

Surely there the angels could have found men and women

who at the very least didn’t smell rank and foul.

And how much easier for all involved:

The men and women could have walked out the back door,

taken a few steps and found the stable

where the baby lay in the manger.

No need to run the long distance from the countryside.

    

Why didn’t the angels bring their news to

the merchants, the businessmen,

the teachers, the rabbis,

the respected, the educated,

the prominent,

the important people of Bethlehem?

Why the shepherds,

men who lived literally and figuratively

on the very edge of society?

But of course,

the very fact that they were outcasts

is at the heart of the message

given us by God in the birth of Christ,

the message Mary herself anticipated

as she sang her praise to God

after she learned she would bear the Son of God:

“God will lift up the lowly

and send the rich away empty”

(Luke 1:51)

In bringing the good news to the shepherds,

God made clear that what we value,

what we consider important,

and what God values and considers important

are often not the same.

The prophet Isaiah reminds us how much like sheep we are,

for “all we like sheep have gone astray,

we have all turned to our own way.”

(Isaiah 53:6)

You and I need a shepherd to lead us, to guide us,

to help us find our way back to the fold

when headstrong and so sure of ourselves

we wander off,

filled with determination to do our own will

rather than God’s will.  

It fits the message of the gospel

that the angels would say:

to you the shepherd,

to you the outcast,

to you the lowly,

is born a Savior, a Messiah,

the Lord Jesus Christ.

For surely,

made as you are in God’s image,

you are worthy,

worthy of God’s love, of God’s goodness,

of God’s boundless grace.

Time and time again,

one example after another,

God shows his love for all humanity

through the outcast,

through the lowly,

through even the scoundrel.

In Matthew’s gospel the birth narrative begins in chapter one,

but not till we get to verse 18.

We tend to skip over the first 17 verses

as unimportant, not essential to the story.

Those seventeen verses are a genealogy of Jesus,

showing how he descended from King David,

who descended from Abraham.

They are seventeen verses filled with names

many of which are difficult to pronounce,

and in older versions of the  Bible,

the names are strung together by that word that makes

even the most serious person laugh:   

“begat”.

We’d expect such a list to be a record of saints,   

holy men, pious and pure,

models of how to live faithfully as children of God.

But if we look carefully,

what we will find are men –

and some women –

who have more in common with shepherds

than they do with cloistered saints.

The list is heavy with the flawed, the failed,

the fumbling, and the foolish:

Jacob the liar and thief;

Judah, who sold his brother Joseph into slavery;

Jesse, who failed to see any potential in his youngest son David;

David, an adulterer, a murderer;

Rehoboam, faithless and cruel. 

And on goes the list.

It is a list that reminds us

of the wideness of God’s grace,

of God’s goodness,

of God’s mercy and kindness given to shepherds,

to rogues and cheats and liars,

given to you and me,

the love of God given us all

by the grace of God.  

This is the glorious news of Christmas!

On a cold’s winter’s night long ago in Bethlehem,

the sky spangled with the lights from a billion stars,

as shepherds watched over their flocks.

Suddenly the sky was ablaze with light and sound

as the heavens erupted in music of the heavenly host:

“Glory to God in the highest!

Glory to God in highest heaven!”

For to you is born this night a Savior

to you, shepherd, baker, carpenter,

teacher, banker, merchant, doctor,

student, mother, father, sister, brother

for to you all the world is born the Savior.

And “He shall not judge by what his eyes see,

or decide by what his ears hear;

but with righteousness he shall judge the poor

and decide with equity for the meek;…

righteousness shall be the belt around his waist,

and faithfulness the belt around his loins.”

(Isaiah 11)

This is the glorious news the shepherds heard that night

and this is the glorious news we hear:

a Savior born for you and me,

love come down from heaven,

given us by the grace of God.

How can our response be any different

than the shepherds’,

any less enthusiastic,

any less excited for what we’ve been given?

Our voices joining those of the shepherds,

those of the angels,

all singing in joyful praise:

“Glory to God!

Glory to God in the highest!

Glory to God in highest heaven!”

                 

AMEN