Sermon by Norman Moll

December 21, 2002

Thank you for your invitation to be here this morning! I am a shepherd as you can see. Oh, you say everyone is welcome at our services! Well that may be true now, but it wasn't always that way.

You see, I was one of those shepherds you just read about. Ah! That was many years ago, but I remember it as if it were yesterday. And I can't help repeating the story!

In fact that story has changed our reputations entirely. Today if you think of the birth of Jesus the Messiah, what comes to your mind first -- a baby in a manger, cattle, angels, wise men and shepherds, right?

But back then it was different -- very different. A shepherd was, well. . . nobody, but actually less than nobody!

Of course we shepherds at Bethlehem were actually very important to the religious economy of the times. You see we supplied the premium lambs for the temple sacrifices in Jerusalem. Talk about lucrative! But all that wealth never reached us.

Oh you supposed that people raised their own lambs for sacrifice. That was true in the past, but in my day it was almost unheard of. My people by then had been scattered through many nations. When people came to temple services they couldn't be bothered with bringing lambs with them. But the real reason is actually more shady. Let's say you brought your families favorite lamb to be sacrificed. You remember all sacrifices had to be perfect -- no lame or blemished animals were permitted. Well when you got to the temple the first thing you were required to do was have your animal inspected by the priests. And guess what. Those inspectors were very creative. If your lamb didn't have a blemish, no problem the inspector could just squeeze a little too hard on one of those little legs, and bingo that lamb had a bad limp.

"Not fair," you say!

This little event meant that you now had to buy a temple lamb at three times the going rate. And it probably wouldn't be worth your while to take home your crippled lamb so you could unload it for the price of damaged goods. Not fair, you complain! Oh, and by the way, when you bought that lamb you couldn't use common currency. No, no! First you must exchange whatever kind of shekels you brought for "temple shekels. And guess who controlled the exchange rate for that transaction. Take it or leave it! But that's pure corruption you complain! And I would agree.

But it also wasn't fair that none of the money from these little schemes ever reached us shepherds at the bottom of the food chain. The profits were all siphoned off by the priests and the middle men. Yep, we provided the premium lambs all right, at the same discounted wholesale prices they paid for lamb chops at Hebron! But I'm wandering.

Somehow the reputation of shepherds had gotten messed up. You say, "David, as in King David, started out as a shepherd!" And you are right, in fact we grazed our flocks on the same hills where young David roamed a thousand years earlier. But by our time shepherds were viewed as, being cheaters like our ancestor Jacob! Of course in working around animals without the comforts of a Holiday Inn at your disposal you pick up the distinct odors of the animals. And working at night as we did, makes it seem that you might be shady characters. And there were some well known cases of sheep stealing. There were no fences back then so you were sometimes guilty of grazing your sheep on other people's property. Do you get the picture -- shepherds -- stinking, illiterate, thieving, lying, outcasts. Worse than uncircumcised slaves. Only one short step above pig farmers!

Seriously, it was actually pretty bad news to be a shepherd. You were by law excluded from testifying in court, because your honesty was assumed to be non-existent. No one except the middle men would do business with you because it was assumed that whatever you had to sell was stolen. And as far as your salvation, -- sorry, God can't forgive you because you're so corrupt. You don't even know who you need to ask forgiveness of! It would have been unthinkable for me to attend a synagogue service -- even if I went in disguise.

But being the scum of the earth doesn't keep a body from having hope. And we Bethlehem shepherds had hope that wouldn't stop. For generations we passed down the prophetic messages about a Messiah to come who would set the world straight, take away the unfairness, make religion meaningful again. Every day, every night, the coming of the Promised One was part of our conversation, our prayers, our personal meditations. Even though you wouldn't hear much about Messiah prophecies in Jerusalem, we talked about it, we hoped and we believed it. We knew by the Daniel prophecy that the time was close at hand.

And then -- it happened! It's the middle of the night. Fall has come and the air is cool. The moon is new and the sky is clear and black as sackcloth. The sheep are quiet. The campfire has burned down to a few embers. The coyotes and wolves must be hunting elsewhere since I haven't heard them howling anywhere near. A few crickets chirp and occasionally a lamb bleats. It seems like all nature is hushed in anticipation. Suddenly our eyes are blinded by light from a being standing near us. Our first impression is to hide our faces in the sand. But he speaks immediately, telling us not to be afraid. Then he announces the news. Our Saviour has been born! At the words our hearts leap. But then he quickly adds, the details -- "this shall be a sign to you -- you will find him wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger!" I was first startled by the light then so excited by the news I wanted to shout, and then shocked by this "sign." But before I could find my tongue, the whole sky was filled with angels! Hundreds, no millions of angels! They began singing. Oh if only I could play back that chorus! It was awesome. "Glory to God in the highest," they proclaimed, "and on earth His peace for men on whom His favor rests!"

When the anthem was finished and our eyes had readjusted to the darkness the only thing we could think about was going in search of the child. Obviously we knew where the cattle sheds were in Bethlehem and it didn't take us long to find the Child, His mother Mary and Joseph. Overjoyed by our experience we began telling everyone we met the news. For once when we spoke people listened. In fact they were astonished. In spite of the fact that shepherds were outcasts in society they listened to us. It didn't take long for our story to spread far and wide. I'm sure the lamb traders took it with them to Jerusalem and from there it spread with the spice traders to. . . who knows where.

All these years I've been thinking and wondering -- Why Shepherds? Why did God chose to give the news to us?

I can imagine the Almighty in heaven. He's making preparations for the greatest event in the history of the universe -- the incarnation of His Son! Actually "He" was to become His Son, because up until this point "This One" we call Jesus had been co-equal with the Almighty! He had existed from eternity past. Un-created, un-derived, unexplainable, a part of the eternal self-existing triune Godhead. And now He was to become a human baby?

So the Almighty is going to pull out all the stops, right? Send the elite symphonic choir to sing. Send Gabriel the highest of the angels to make the personal announcement! Compose a new anthem to be sung for the first time on the night of His birth. Choose as an audience those who will command the attention of the world when they share the news, like maybe, a meeting of the Sanhedrin, or the New Years Eve banquet at the palace of the Roman Emperor, or a special meeting of the United Nations General Assembly, or the super bowl half time show or some sleepy, hopeful shepherds???

Isn't there something wrong with this picture? Why us? Why shepherds?

Ya, we are up at night, but if an angel stopped by your bedroom you'd wake up too!

Yes we knew where all the cattle sheds were in Bethlehem, we owned them, but you could have found them just by following your nose.

Yes we were hoping for Messiah's return, but weren't others? Somewhere, maybe?

You know what I think the answer is? God was looking for a way to explain to people that His Son was coming to offer salvation to everyone -- not just the priests, not just the wealthy Jews who were on the receiving end of the temple business, not just those who make up the synagogue congregation on Sabbath. God was sending His Son to be the Saviour of the whole world, even shepherds, even pig farmers, even Gentiles and Romans. So he allowed shepherds to witness and hear "The Incarnation Hallelujah Chorus." This way, everyone everywhere would know that the message of Jesus' birth is good news for them too. And it didn't matter to Him that we aren't legal as witnesses, because we aren't dealing with human laws and human customs. In His sight our bad reputation is typical of all those who need to be saved. There is none righteous, no only one, and He had just been born! (MIcah 7:2; Matt. 19:17; Rom. 3:10-18)

For unto you a child is born, unto you a son [my son] is given. He will rule, and his name will be called Wonderful, Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace. (Isa. 9:6,7)

And he shall feed his flock as a shepherd feeds his sheep. He will gather the lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and gently lead those that are with young. (Isa. 40:11)

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want! (Psalm 23)

Reference: "To Shepherds" Caleb Rosado, Adventist Review, Dec. 22, 1988, pp10-11