December 3, 2023 Sermon

Sermon title:  “A Shepherd's Tale”

Scripture:  Luke 2:1-20

(Other lectionary suggestions include Isaiah 64:1-9, Psalm 80 (selections), I Corinthians 1:3-9, and Mark 13:24-37.)

Luke 2:1-20

The Birth of Jesus

1In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. 2This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. 3All went to their own towns to be registered. 4Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. 5He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. 6While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. 7And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.

The Shepherds and the Angels

8In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. 9Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 10But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people:  11to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. 12This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” 13And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, 14“Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!” 15When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.” 16So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. 17When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; 18and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them. 19But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. 20The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.

          This morning I am going to do something I rarely do, and that is use another person's work in its entirety. (Don't worry:  it's short!) It comes from a little pamphlet called "Tales from the Stable: Christmas stories from those who were there". It was written by a retired UCC minister by the name of Roger Lynn, with help from his now-deceased wife Veronica Lassen. I'll use the first story from this little book, and maybe later on in Advent turn to another or two. I heard about this source from one of our members, and I'm glad she told me about it. Pastor Lynn says it's okay to read this to you; in fact, he encourages it. He asks only that I give “appropriate acknowledgement....as to authorship.” And, he continues, “May {his work} contribute a sense of wonder and delight to every occasion in which {his work} is shared.” Pastor Lynn was a minister for 40 years, and he really liked the Christmas Eve candlelight service. He says, “I don't remember when it started, but at some point along the way, I began writing first person narrative stories to share during that special service. It was a fun challenge to find a unique voice and perspective with which to tell the tale.”

Here then is Roger Lynn's “A Shepherd's Tale.”

          My name is Jonas, son of Jesse, and I am a shepherd.  My father was a shepherd, as was his father before him, and so have I been all my life.  The life of a shepherd is sometimes lonely and mostly quiet, without much excitement.  Usually the most exciting thing that happens is when a lion tries to get one of the sheep.  Then things get pretty crazy for a while, but even then nothing you could call real, honest-to-goodness excitement.  You know, the kind that makes a real difference in your life.

          But I want to tell you about one night, a long time ago, when I was only a boy.  It’s funny how some things stay with you, but I can still remember that night as if it were only yesterday.  We were on the hill just outside of town.  The sheep were scattered around the hillside, and we were gathered around a fire near the top of the hill.  There were several of us watching that night, and I was the youngest.  I had only recently been allowed to stay out in the fields at night.

          Anyway, we were sitting around talking and laughing, when suddenly it was as if the air itself exploded with life.  At first we couldn’t move, we couldn’t think, we couldn’t breathe.  We didn’t know whether to be scared to death, or out of minds with joy.  It didn’t take long for the joy to win out.  Some of us just laughed, because there seemed no better way to express what we were feeling.

          You will get different stories about what happened that night, depending on which of us you ask.  But I think that is because it was so overwhelming that none of us could really grasp it all, let alone tell about it later in a way that would make any sense.  Suffice it to say that nothing like it had ever happened to any of us before, and it was very, very good.

          I’m sure if you had seen us that night you would have said we were drunk.  And you would have been right—we were drunk with pure, undiluted joy.  We were laughing and singing and dancing – and we were not alone.  The very air around us was filled with laughter and song and dance.

          And then, somehow, we found ourselves in town, out behind the old inn.  And things got very quiet.  Not because the joy was gone.  No, it was still so real we could taste it.  And not because we were afraid of waking sleepy townsfolk.  We would have awakened the whole world to tell of our joy.  I think we got quiet because our joy had moved us beyond laughter to prayer.  I had never thought about those two things being related, but that night I learned many things I had never thought of before.

          We went inside the stable, which was out behind the inn.  And there we found him.  He was just a baby, you know.  His parents must have been poor because they couldn’t even stay in the inn.  He was lying in the straw and he looked just like any other baby.  But that was only when you looked with just your eyes.  That night we saw things and felt things and knew things that went far beyond plain eyesight.  And we knew that this child was special.  We didn’t know how, and we didn’t know why, but we knew.  And the joy we felt at the knowing brought tears to our eyes and wonder to our lives, and not one of us was ever exactly the same again.

          We walked back to our hillside and our sheep knowing that we had witnessed something which can only be described as the glory of God.  And finally we found our tongues again and we sang.  Then, surely, we must have awakened the whole town with our joy.

Pastor Skip