The Shepherd's Story
Dec. 23rd, 2006 22:28![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mapsedgeThe presentation I'll be doing tomorrow in church.
You all know the story. I'm certain that everyone of you here has heard it at least once a year every year of your lives, the story of the birth of the messiah, the birth of Jesus. The portion of the story that concerns me is the part where the shepherds come in.
And there were in the same country shepherds, abiding in the fields, keeping watch over their flocks by night.
That part, yes. You see, I was there. I am one of those shepherds. When you read it in the scriptures it sounds so poetic, but I'm afraid the actual truth of that day is a little more prosaic.
I wasn't even supposed to be there, but my wife and I had had a fight. While I was out that morning, gone to Bethlehem on some errand or other, a merchant caravan had come across our camp and my wife had purchased a bit of fabric. When she described the man I knew exactly who it was. An Ethiopian or Egyptian, a man with a big smile and a bigger belly who talked too much and too fast. I disapproved of the purchase - even though it was too late to do anything about it - and we argued. I determined that I would spend that night in the fields with my brother and our cousin, helping to watch the flock, while both our tempers cooled.
So there I was, shivering on a hillock, waiting for this sheep or that sheep to drop a lamb or get lost in the dark in spite of the bellewether goat. I was angry at my wife for the purchase. I was angry at the merchant who sold her the fabric. I was angry at my brother for taking her side. I was angry at my cousin who wouldn't shut up about it.
Mostly, I was angry at myself for being angry.
It was in the middle of these dark thoughts that a being of surpassing whiteness appeared before me, his arms outstretched, his mouth wide in a smile.
Now, I've as much knowledge of the scriptures as most men, and I recognized this angel for what he was and understood that most of the time that an angel appears it is to lay waste to some town or other. Now, I would happily have seen my wife as a pillar of salt earlier that day, but faced with the real opportunity I wasn't so sure anymore and thus I did what any sane man would do under the circumstances: I dropped to the ground and buried my face in the dirt.
A breath or two later, I heard the thumps of my brother and our cousin doing the same.
As I considered my dusty options, a warm and gentle touch on my shoulder raised me to my feet, and I looked into the eyes of the angel. He said something to me that in hindsight is rather amusing: he said, "Don't be afraid."
Mm-hmm. No worries there, I wasn't afraid. I was terrified. Still, his face was so gentle and so full of joy, I began to wonder what he would tell me. He said again, "Don't be afraid." And then, "I've brought you good news, joyous news, not just for you but for everyone!"
You know the rest. We made the hour's walk to Bethlehem and met the babe, spread the news to anyone who would listen. What I hope you come away from my story with is that if a man like me - a stupid stubborn angry man with no sense in his head - if that message is for me, then maybe...just maybe...it's for you, too.
For unto us... all... a savior is born.
You all know the story. I'm certain that everyone of you here has heard it at least once a year every year of your lives, the story of the birth of the messiah, the birth of Jesus. The portion of the story that concerns me is the part where the shepherds come in.
And there were in the same country shepherds, abiding in the fields, keeping watch over their flocks by night.
That part, yes. You see, I was there. I am one of those shepherds. When you read it in the scriptures it sounds so poetic, but I'm afraid the actual truth of that day is a little more prosaic.
I wasn't even supposed to be there, but my wife and I had had a fight. While I was out that morning, gone to Bethlehem on some errand or other, a merchant caravan had come across our camp and my wife had purchased a bit of fabric. When she described the man I knew exactly who it was. An Ethiopian or Egyptian, a man with a big smile and a bigger belly who talked too much and too fast. I disapproved of the purchase - even though it was too late to do anything about it - and we argued. I determined that I would spend that night in the fields with my brother and our cousin, helping to watch the flock, while both our tempers cooled.
So there I was, shivering on a hillock, waiting for this sheep or that sheep to drop a lamb or get lost in the dark in spite of the bellewether goat. I was angry at my wife for the purchase. I was angry at the merchant who sold her the fabric. I was angry at my brother for taking her side. I was angry at my cousin who wouldn't shut up about it.
Mostly, I was angry at myself for being angry.
It was in the middle of these dark thoughts that a being of surpassing whiteness appeared before me, his arms outstretched, his mouth wide in a smile.
Now, I've as much knowledge of the scriptures as most men, and I recognized this angel for what he was and understood that most of the time that an angel appears it is to lay waste to some town or other. Now, I would happily have seen my wife as a pillar of salt earlier that day, but faced with the real opportunity I wasn't so sure anymore and thus I did what any sane man would do under the circumstances: I dropped to the ground and buried my face in the dirt.
A breath or two later, I heard the thumps of my brother and our cousin doing the same.
As I considered my dusty options, a warm and gentle touch on my shoulder raised me to my feet, and I looked into the eyes of the angel. He said something to me that in hindsight is rather amusing: he said, "Don't be afraid."
Mm-hmm. No worries there, I wasn't afraid. I was terrified. Still, his face was so gentle and so full of joy, I began to wonder what he would tell me. He said again, "Don't be afraid." And then, "I've brought you good news, joyous news, not just for you but for everyone!"
You know the rest. We made the hour's walk to Bethlehem and met the babe, spread the news to anyone who would listen. What I hope you come away from my story with is that if a man like me - a stupid stubborn angry man with no sense in his head - if that message is for me, then maybe...just maybe...it's for you, too.
For unto us... all... a savior is born.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-12-24 06:27 (UTC)I think of you at least once, I'm sure. May you recieve wonderful blessings tomorrow.
S~
no subject
Date: 2006-12-25 02:24 (UTC)Keeping you in my prayers, friend.
no subject
Date: 2006-12-25 04:20 (UTC)Thank you for the prayers, that means the world to me.
xoxo
no subject
Date: 2006-12-24 06:52 (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-25 02:20 (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-25 02:06 (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-25 02:19 (UTC)(Is there not one icon in your collection that isn't just f'n gorgeous?)
So...
Date: 2006-12-25 17:18 (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-25 22:45 (UTC)I'm sure it was very well received, and if just one person got the message...you know?
*hugs*
Merry Christmas!
no subject
Date: 2006-12-26 19:58 (UTC)I dont' suppose there was video?
no subject
Date: 2006-12-27 01:12 (UTC)If the vocal majority of those claiming to follow the same path you do actually walked as you do...
I not only would have no quarrel with that religion, I'd feel better for the world.
It has been said that if Jesus came today, he'd be a pagan. I don't know the veracity of that; he might be allergic to patchouli or actually expect someone to accomplish something besides self-gratification...but I do know he would not be obsessed with outlawing homosexuals, waging war on muslims, or in any other way harming people.
Oh, he might set aside some time to upset The Establishment; but in this America, that establishment claims to follow him.
What a conundrum, eh? Loki is bellylaughing at him in the Deity Lounge at the end of the Universe.
He most likely would be fixing up his home, taking care of his family, and trying to lead by example.
He'd lose all sense of time as he wrote music and played with his children.
When he looked into his wife's eyes, he'd know that he really did know the Meaning of Life.
He'd occasionally step in front of folk and sing them a song...or give them a story, whereby they might look into themselves and find that they are wasting too much time on matters that don't grow corn, and not enough time on loving one another.
I know this guy in Independence like that...
no subject
Date: 2006-12-29 20:29 (UTC)