A Shepherd’s Tale

It was a quiet night that night. Some stars, chillier, but quiet. Rather surprising considering how many people had come into Bethlehem over the past few days. Some census ordered by the big man in Rome. Yet not long after dark the town became silent for the most part. Dead. Not unlike this place here after dark.

Oh you’ll have to excuse me! I’m sorry I’ve forgotten to introduce myself! My name is Bartholomew. Shepherd by day, but by night… also a shepherd. I was just thinking about that night - several years ago now I guess - when something extraordinary happened. Perhaps you would like to hear the story?

Very well!

As I said, a quiet night in Bethlehem. I lived on the outskirts of the town, out in the field. By trade I am a shepherd. My role is to live out-of-doors, if you will. I live a rugged life. Sleeping around the campfire with my fellow shepherd, fending for ourselves, and tending our sheep. We’re despised by most people. The Jewish leader don’t like us because we’re always breaking some law about Sabbath or something else. The people don’t like us because we stink. I don’t think it’s that bad really. maybe a little musky?? If I had had the ability to go to synagogue, I might have. Oh, did I hunger for deeper things. The things of God! I see you hold a Bible in your hand. In my day what a privilege it would have been to simply touch the sacred scrolls of Isaiah, or David, or Moses. I may not look like much, but might I remind you that King David of old was himself once a shepherd like me. Great things come in surprising packages, eh?

Anyway, it had gone dark hours before. Most of us had turned in for the night… I was charged with another of us - John - to take second watch. Most of the sheep were sleeping as well. The herd was quiet that night. Seemed to me that the stillness, however nice it might have been, was only temporary. I don’t what drove that feeling, could have been the census, or perhaps it was about to happen.

Suddenly, this light filled the sky! At first it was like looking directly into the sun, and yet even more. I’ve never seen anything like it! It shook the others out of their slumber, but instantly they hit their bellies, laying on the ground with John and I. Some may say that this was reverent fear. Indeed what we saw was awesome. But it was also truly terrifying! They say that when people of old met angels, they were equally filled with fear. Perhaps there is just something about the glory of all heaven meeting you in your little, sleepy corner of the world that truly shakes you to your core. It certainly did for me. It was terrifying to see such an awesome sight.

It was an angel, this I am sure of, who spoke to us. Who else could it be? What’s the first thing he says? “Fear not.” You know, I understand why they say that, but honestly! It’s a scary thing to meet an angel face to face. Yet what he said next brought a joy to my heart like nothing I had ever experienced before.

Luke 2:10–12 ESV

And the angel said to them, “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger.”

What news is this? city of David… Christ.. the Lord? Wait, a baby… what is going on here?

At this point I was too stunned to quite comprehend. But as I’m picking myself up off the ground, all of a sudden the one angel was joined by so many that I could not count them all. The radiance was overwhelming. They sang,

Luke 2:14 ESV

“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!”

Such praise! Beautiful song yes, but so much more than just perfect harmony! I’ve never heard anything like it to this day. Wholly for God, directed to Him. You couldn’t help but draw your attention to Yahweh.

Then, just as quickly as it started, they vanished… the night was dark again, quiet, silent.

We sat there kneeing, or on hands and knees, stunned. What had just happened. I think the realization hit me first. I could contain the joy I felt. With an energy and vigour not my own I jumped up and said to those with me, “friends, do you know what this means? We’ve just heard the best news! The Messiah has come!” How I had such a clear understanding I’ll never know, but I had never been so sure about anything in all my life.

Something compelled me in that moment. I had to know, I had to see, I had to go. I lept up, not really caring who might follow, though hoping my companions felt the same drive. We started running towards the town.

Apparently my friends did have the same compulsion, because every one of them ran too. We didn’t stop until we reached Bethlehem. Larger cities might have been walled, but such a small place offered not such protection. We burst into that sleepy town, and stopped. Where could the Messiah be? Wait, wait the angel said we would find him wrapped in cloths, lying in a manger. One of my friends asked, “wait, where is the nearest stable?” John answered before I could, “Over there! At the inn of Levi the Judite!” Again we ran, ever faster than before. As fast as we could. Could this be the place? Is this where we would find Him?

We stopped at the door to the stable. It was the ground floor to the house where Levi often had travellers stay. It might have been so packed upstairs that the only place for this wonderful child and its parents could have any semblance of privacy and room. But, should we go in, could we go in? We were the reprobate of society! Lowest of the classes at least! Would we get shooed out quicker than we had come in? I saw the same questions burning in the eyes of my friends. Yet there was something else. Yes, I felt it too. We just had to be a part of this. We had to see, we had to know!

I gently pushed the door open…

I’ve often pondered over that night and wondered, what would it have been like to be the baby’s parents? Six smelly, sticking, grimy shepherds show up at the door of the stable where you’ve just had a baby. I’ve never had children myself, but I suppose if I had I would be none-too-pleased to have six guys invade such a private space. As I pushed the door open, the father turned around to look at me. concern washing across his features. I guess the wonder on our faces said it all, because his expression softened. “You’re here to see our child, aren’t you?” He asked. “Yes” I said, barely above a whisper. He gestured for us to enter. Lots of hay, a few animals. Typical. Yet over to our left, in the corner, lay a young woman. Pale, laid out in the hay and propped up with blankets. Next to her, in the small manger used for feeding the animals, lay her child. The child. The One we had come to see.

I couldn’t help it. I fell to my knees. Tears - I don’t know where they came from exactly - began to trickle down my cheeks. I don’t cry easy, but that night they fell unhindered. I stared at the tiny person, lying in that manger. He must have just been fed, because he was asleep, not crying. He looked fairly contented. I couldn’t help it. I reached out, and touched him. Suddenly it washed over me: the realization that the One we had wait for for so long, the one prophets talked about and psalmists praised, we here. I am not an educated man, but even someone as humble as I knew enough to know that a Messiah was promised. I knew, without a doubt, that this was He! He had come at last!

My friends and I each took a turn. On our knees before the Lord, who had come as some tiny, helpless little baby in a manger. His mother smiled at us. I caught her eye just enough tot tell that, despite obvious pain and tiredness, she too was soaking in these moments, and had a deep impact on her.

We weren’t there very long. We each took a turn, and then left to give the family their privacy. As we closed the door behind us, I felt more light-hearted than I had ever felt before. Joy began to bubble up in me so much that I began to laugh, and cry! It was John who gain composure enough to voice a question first: Who else do you suppose knows about this?” We all stopped. The town was quiet, and it didn’t look there had been many other who had come to visit this little family. Were we the first ones? The first to know, the first to see? We had to go. We had to tell others about what we had witnessed for ourselves. Would they believe us? Who cares? it didn’t change the fact that this kind of news we could not hold top ourselves.

We paired off, John and myself, and the other four in groups of two. We began to run through the streets, knocking on doors, calling at windows. Anybody who would listen we told. I watched some with skeptical faces and blank expressions close their doors to the smelly shepherd. Still other cursed at us and told us to go away before they called the soldiers. But in some I watched the same fire light that had been lit in my heart as those angels sang. The fire of belief, excitement, anticipation, joy? Who knows how to properly describe such a feeling. But they felt it, I knew that much.

Eventually, as day dawned we slowly made our way back to our herd, having completely forgotten about them until now. Amazingly they were all still there. Who knows how! Perhaps Yahweh had something to do with it…

We’ve talked for years about the night. The quiet one outside of Bethlehem when all of Heaven’s best singers sang to us about the King who would save us all. The years have passed all too quickly, and I have a lot more gray hair, and a lot less hair period, than I did on that night. But the memory remains firm. How could it be that such news would be delivered first to us? Normal humanity can’t stand my sort. Maybe it’s the smell, although I like it! Yet the Messiah Himself, the One who was promised to come - God Himself in our flesh - welcomed me with open arms. And I got to be his herald that night. I got to tell our small corner of the world about the greatest news that has ever been, or ever will be. That a reprobate like me could be accepted by the Almighty Himself, used by the Almighty. The longing I had for something more, something… spiritual, was filled that night in the precious knowledge of who the Saviour is. Since then, every day i have put my faith in Him. He will save us, he has come! Something shifted that night for me. I no longer felt the same emptiness, the same fear, the same feeling of alone I had felt. Suddenly it was like God and I got a lot closer. I can’t do justice to how it felt to know and experience the Messiah that night. but i do know this: My encounter with Him changed my life forever. I’ll never be the same! Everything has changed, and from then on, I knew where my hope was found. Now I live for Him everyday, and cannot wait until I get to see Him, face to face.

Ah, well I must be getting back to the sheep. Silly things are a few bread pieces short of a loaf! But, might I pray with you before I go?

Pray