What Child
What’s that commotion down in the street - all that whoopin’ and hollerin’, why that’s enough to awaken the whole town! Besides, who would be outside partying so late on a chilly night like this? Who could that be and why all the noise?
“Ahhhh, yes of course. The census.” I remind myself.
Having lived in this town as long as I have, I should be used to the commotion and ruckus that accompanies a tax census.
The rabble rousers are approaching my home. I can hear excitement and even jubilance in their voices as I catch snippets of their conversation: “Angels! Good news! ... a baby in a manger!”
I grab my robe and wrap it around me, dashing downstairs to the street below. I can see the rowdies now in the cool moonlight - it’s just a bunch of sheepherders coming down the street. But, wait a minute ... that’s odd ... what are sheepherders doing in town, at night, and why aren’t they out on the hillside watching over their sheep? “How strange,” I think. “Sheepherders never come to town during a night watch. Very strange.”
I shiver in the chilly air and pull my robe tighter around me. As the sheepherders come towards me, I can see their jubilant faces. The air is electric with their excitement. Our eyes meet. They are practically bursting at the seams and need no invitation to speak.
“You - you’ll never guess what we’ve just seen and heard!” stammers one of them, barely able to get the words out.
“You’re not going to believe this!” gasps another.
I am curious and encourage them to go on ... not that they need the encouragement, mind you!
“We were out on the hillside and had just agreed who would take the watches for the night,” continues another. “All of a sudden, out of nowhere, this magnificent angel stood in our midst! All around us there was light. It was as bright as day, only much brighter - blazingly brighter - if you can imagine!”
I was trying to imagine.
2
“We were scared out of our minds! Absolutely terrified!”
For sheepherders to be that scared, I mused, it must’ve been something; they face dangers all the time in their line of work.
“But then,” continues another, “THEN the angel spoke and said this: ‘Do not be afraid. I’m here in your midst to tell you about an amazing and wonderfully joyous event that is meant for everyone, everywhere! A Savior has just been born in David’s town - Bethlehem - a Savior who is Messiah and Master, Christ the LORD! This is what you’re to look for: a baby wrapped in a blanket and lying in a manger.”
Now, that was the wildest thing I’d ever heard. Who would have a baby in a place like that? And who would put a baby in a feeding trough? Couldn’t this family find a better place to have a child? They must be poor. Really poor. But that’s odd, too. If this baby is a savior, what a strange place for him to be born!
And, if this baby is the Messiah - the anointed One - we haven’t heard from a prophet about the Messiah, the One who would save our people, in well over 400 years. We’ve been waiting for so long to hear a prophet announce Messiah’s arrival and there have been no prophets. But, wait a minute! Surely God wasn’t speaking through this rag-tag bunch of sheepherders ... these blue collar workers ... common country folk?
Why would God make such an announcement to sheepherders? Why not to the priests in the synagogue? And why would Messiah be born in a place barely able to shelter and protect Him or keep Him warm? Shouldn’t He be born in the royal palace? These sheepherders are right about one thing: it is hard to believe what they have just seen and heard!
Tugging at my sleeve, one of the sheepherders interrupts my thoughts. “And then,” he says, his voice growing with excitement as he relives that encounter, “suddenly the whole night sky was filled with angels, singing and praising God, saying: ‘Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to men and women on whom his favor rests.’ It was awesome!”
I was beginning to agree.
“I wish you could have seen and heard that angel choir!” says another.
3
I was wishing I had.
“After they finished singing,” he continues, “this grand troupe of angels withdrew from the hillside and disappeared into the night sky. Everything was dark again.”
“And then ...?” I prod.
“We talked it over amongst ourselves, totally blown away by what had just happened. None of us had ever experienced anything like that in our entire lives! The whole thing seemed ...” he pauses, grasping for the right word, “incredible!”
“So we decided,” pipes up another, “to hurry down into Bethlehem to check out this story ... to see for ourselves. We dropped everything and came running!”
A wave of excitement washes over them again as their words tumble out over each other.
“We found EVERYTHING exactly the way the angel had described it!”
“The baby was wrapped in a blanket ...”
“... and lying in a manger!”
“Not one single detail was left out - it was exactly the way we were told!”
It all sounded so incredible to me. Had the long-awaited Messiah finally come? But, to be born in such an out-of-the-way place? And his birth announcement made by angels? to sheepherders?! The whole story was indeed sounding incredible. And unbelievable.
As if reading my thoughts, one of the sheepherders puts his hand on my shoulder and says, “But, look, don’t take our word for it - go and see for yourself!”
Standing there in the chilly night air, I am intrigued and impressed by the excitement and total belief of these sheepherders. Their jubilance and praises to God for all they have seen and heard is contagious. Maybe I should go and see for myself. After all, seeing would be believing. Yes, I will seek out this unusual event.
4
By now, the sheepherders are already continuing on their way, sharing their news with everyone they meet.
A sense of urgency settles upon me. I must go and find this baby whose birth has been announced in a way like no other. With quickening steps, I head off following the directions the sheepherders gave me. Their directions are good and I have no trouble finding the baby and his parents.
I see the infant lying in the manger - just as the sheepherders had said I would. His mother and father are hovering over him, tenderly touching his tiny hands, examining his little feet, counting fingers and toes - as all parents of newborns do. Already, I see they have fallen in love with him.
I stop and wait. His mother looks up. Her eyes meet mine - they are filled with joy and wonder. Her smile invites me to come closer, to come and see. As I do, the baby stirs and she picks him up, cradling him in her arms.
I come even closer, captivated by the thought that if indeed the sheepherders story is true, then this baby must be Messiah. His mother asks me, “Would you like to hold him?” Her unexpected question startles me and takes my breath away. I am but a stranger to this little family. Barely able to respond, I whisper, “Yes. I would.”
Gently she places Him in my outstretched arms. I draw Him close to me, right next to my heart. I smell the sweetness of this newborn Child. I feel the downy softness of His skin against my cheek.
What Child is this, I wonder, who required such a proclamation of His birth? Such an extraordinary announcement to such ordinary people - sheepherders.
And me.
I look at His little feet and wonder where they will go, where they will take Him. I wonder what His hands will do for a living and who they will touch. I take His tiny hand in mine. He looks intently into my eyes. I whisper to Him, in awe, “Is it possible, precious little One, that You truly are the Messiah, Savior of the world?” His little fingers curl around mine and somehow, deep inside my heart, I know.
