Of course, the shepherds were terrified. Of course, they were! They had to be terrified…because that night, they were just minding their own business…doing what shepherds do, when out of nowhere, an angel of the Lord stood before them and the glory of the Lord shown around them.
They were terrified at the shock of it all, but they were also terrified because no one ever visited the shepherds with good news. No one ever said to them, “Hey Shepherds! You are doing fantastic work. You are appreciated!” Nope. It didn’t happen.
Even though we’ve tidied them up in our nativity scenes, and we’ve cleaned their robes and their reputations, in that day and age, shepherds were rogues and outcasts. When people saw a shepherd coming towards them on the road, they would cross to the other side, to avoid them. They were not to be trusted. In fact, shepherds were regarded as being so dishonest, that they were not even allowed to give testimony in a court of law.
And their work…their work was not pleasant. We may think of sheep as cute, cuddly, warm and fuzzy animals… but they were not. Not at all. Sheep are obnoxious animals…smelly…disobedient…not that smart…
No, the life of a shepherd was messy. And shepherds…out in the fields, away from…well…everybody…they lived a lonely and a bleak existence. Which is why it was such a shock when the angels appeared to them.
Now, it’s hard to put ourselves in their place…but I would guess that at one time or another, we’ve all experienced the messiness of life, right? In some way, shape or form, we have all experienced this bleakness. Maybe you’ve experienced isolation…maybe you’ve experienced grief…maybe fear…maybe it’s rejection…maybe your heart has felt crushed…maybe you haven’t felt wanted…or loved…maybe.
Michael Yaconelli was a pastor, author and speaker. In his book, Messy Spirituality, he wrote about an experience he had back in 1953, when he was just eleven years old.
Michael’s father was…to put it kindly…demanding. He had high expectations of his kids, and he enforced those expectations. He wanted them to learn self-sufficiency, independence and strength. Michael’s dad insisted that Michael get a job…to learn responsibility, and how to manage money. Well, the only job an 11-year-old could get was to deliver the morning newspaper. So, Michael became a paper boy.
His dad told him that whatever he earned was his. And what he did with his money would be up to him. Awesome!
Over the course of months, Michael managed to save twenty dollars. Now, twenty dollars was a lot of money for a paper boy from a working-class family in 1953…
One day, walking home from school, Michael went past a music store. There, in the window, standing all by itself, was the most beautiful conga drum he had ever seen. It was almost as tall as he. It was barrel-shaped, made of polished wood; smooth, and shiny. It had a round, chrome frame. Michael didn’t play the conga drum. But in that moment, when he laid eyes on that thing, he believed that he could! Michael eagerly handed over his $20, and walked home, the proud owner of a conga drum.
Michael burst into the house like a conquering hero, excited to show off his first big purchase; the reward of his early morning newspaper labor. But Michael was not prepared for his father’s reaction:
“Michael? What is that?”
“It’s a drum. It’s my drum. I just bought it!” Michael said, beaming.
“How much did you pay for it?”
“It cost twenty dollars.”
“Twenty dollars?!? You paid $20? For that? That’s too much! What were you thinking? Were you thinking? Do you even know how to think?”
Their exchange was followed by a long silence. And then came the words that Michael never forgot:
“Take It Back! Right now! Return it back to the store and get your money back!”
“But…”
“No, take it back! That is a foolish purchase. Take it back right now!”
Michael stood stunned. And his eyes filled with tears. And he picked up the drum and slowly walked back downtown with it. His heart was, he wrote later, filled with sadness, and embarrassment, and shame, and a bit of anger too. “You said it was my money! You promised!”
The incident was never spoken of again. But Michael never forgot. He carried it with him for his whole life. He wrote that his soul had been scarred that day. Throughout his life, whenever he had to make a big decision, he said he would emotionally flinch. He didn’t want to commit to something that might be questioned…challenged…or even reversed.
Michael grew up and became an ordained pastor. In his work, he talked all the time with others about God’s infinite love. But this incident with his father was always in the back of his mind. It created this self-doubt.
He wrote that “Parked somewhere in my sub-conscious was the belief that God’s grace and forgiveness were lavish and unconditional, but limited. If you cross God one too many times, if you fail too often, if you sin too much, God may decide to take his love back. It made no sense, but it was always in the back of my mind.”
In 1997, Michael was speaking at a youth retreat. His own son, Mark, was there as an adult leader. Michael was sharing the story of the drum and talking about navigating the disappointments we all experience in life.
During Michael’s talk, his son walked to a curtain behind the stage and as Michael was finishing his story…about taking the drum back to the store…and the deep pain of his disappointment and shame, Mark walked out on stage…with a gift for his father: a brand-new, beautiful, conga drum.
Michael saw it and stopped in his tracks. The room went silent. And Michael stared at the drum and then at Mark, and then back at the drum. And then at Mark.
Finally, after this long moment, Mark walked the drum over to him, and as Michael’s eyes filled with tears, Mark placed it in his hands, and said, “You deserve this one Dad, no one is taking it back.” And Michael, who had carried this scar his whole life… like a wound that just wouldn’t heal…right there on stage, in front of God and everybody…he held his son and cried. In that moment, he said, he felt his heart healing.
You see, somehow, we believe in God, and we believe in love…but we have a really hard time believing in grace. There are days when you feel just a bit like those shepherds felt. A bit on the outside. Like you need to earn something…or prove something…like your value…your identity…is tied to your performance. Like you couldn’t possibly deserve to be loved in the way that God loves you.
These thoughts that from time to time we all experience …well, I’ll just be blunt. They are a lie.
What’s true?
- What’s true is that we all need healing.
- What’s true is that we need the gentle arms and hands of grace…the grace of God.
- And…what’s true is that tonight, we receive it.
My friends, this is Christmas. This is the meaning of our story. Jesus was born…God came into the world…Emmanuel…God with us…to bring light, and healing and to restore joy.
The fear and anxiety experienced by those shepherds…the disappointment and pain that Michael Yaconelli felt…the weight of life that each of you carries…these things are healed in a simple act; the birth of a savior, in a manger, 2000 years ago.
Because in that moment, God’s love broke into our world. Pure, undiluted, complete and total love. But not a distant, impersonal love.
The prophet Isaiah said “unto us…” “Unto us, a savior is born. Unto us, a son is given.” Unto us. This is a profoundly personal promise.
You see, the Christmas story is not simply a story, it is your story.
No matter how much of an outsider…no matter how small, or insignificant you may feel, (or have been made to feel), the meaning of Christmas is that you are intimately known and dearly loved by God. So much so, that he comes to you tonight.
Hear this truth: God knows you. God knows your name. God knows everything about you. And even so, God still loves you. That is a gift of grace that will never be taken back…that never expires…that never evaporates.
And every gift of grace… every smile, every laugh, every moment of kindness, every bit of gentleness and tenderness that we share with each other, is the work of a Savior who loves you.
Tonight, we experience grace. Unto you a Savior is born. Unto you a Son is given. His name is Jesus. He is love. And love…love always knows your name.
Thanks be to God, and Merry Christmas!
Amen.
Test Driving Theology 