The inspiration for this style came primarily from the Rev. Steve Norden. During Advent, he usually (maybe always?) does a first person narrative sermon. This sermon, as you will soon read, is not from the first person perspective but it is a narrative sermon.
Focus Text is Luke 2.8-20
Baruch leaned closer to the hot coals and gave them a slow, steady breath of air. He watched as the pale embers turned a bright, crimson red. Suddenly, the dry kindling piled above the embers flared to life and Baruch sat back on his haunches, satisfied. “Ahh, brother, as our friend Isaiah has said, ‘The people shepherding in darkness have seen a great light.’” He looked around at his companion, Itzhak, and smiled.
Itzhak turned his stare from the sheep grazing around them and considered his brother Baruch. Baruch was the oldest of the three brothers. As was common among shepherds, family relied upon one another for assistance. Their father had been a shepherd and had raised all three boys to follow him into the fields. But their father had long since gone down to sheol. Baruch was the oldest and most boisterous. Usually, being the eldest brings with it responsibility and somberness but Baruch was continually in a joyful mood. His bright mood contrasted with his dark, cracked skin and black, full beard. His teeth flashed white as he smiled and by the light of the growing fire Itzhak could see the ornery light gleaming in his eyes.
“You would be wise to not make light of the prophets, Baruch.” Reuben’s voice reached them before he was visible. Shortly afterwards he emerged from the darkness and stood there by the fire. Reuben was the youngest, but he was as tall as Saul and continually reciting to himself the words of the prophets and Moses. He lived for the great stories of his Jewish father. Though the youngest, Reuben towered over all of them, and fittingly was usually out amidst their flock standing guard. His rod hung from a loop on his belt and he held his shepherd’s crook as though it was the Rod of Aaron.
Itzhak, the middle child, was left with the burden of keeping the peace and keeping everyone focused on the task at hand. He sighed, “Reuben, who is protecting the sheep? Your watch is not yet finished. Baruch will fetch you when it is your time.”
Reuben was quiet a moment before responding. “I have gathered the bramble together. The pen is secure; the sheep are safe for the moment. The God of our Fathers, blessed be his name, is the great shepherd. And I brought you dinner.” As he finished saying this he tossed a dead rabbit which landed beside Itzhak and disturbed the dry ground.
Baruch smiled and started to thank him but was silenced by a fit of coughing from the dust. Itzhak stood. “Thank you Reuben. Now go; Baruch will fetch you when your watch is complete.”
Reuben turned to go when suddenly white light flashed. All three brothers cried out in pain as the light blinded them. The intensity of the light died down and they were able to see again, but as their vision came into focus it seemed to the three brothers that it was noon and not dusk. As they looked around in stunned silence, trying to figure out the source of the light, a man appeared in their midst.
He was extremely tall: taller even than Reuben. The light seemed to be emanating from his very skin. Fear gripped their hearts; Baruch cried out and cowered on the ground and Itzhak turned to run. Only Reuben, with the courage of a shepherd, raised his foreboding rod with the intention of clubbing the intruder.
But then the stranger spoke: “Fear not.” His voice was filled with power. The ground seemed to tremble and all the earth go quiet, as if holding its breath. The steady bleating of the lambs could no longer be heard. Even the gentle breeze seemed to have stopped. Reuben lowered his rod, Itzhak turned back and even Baruch looked curiously at the stranger. “For behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.” The stranger paused and starred intently at each shepherd for several moments. As his gaze lingered they could feel their fear disappearing and being replaced by pure joy. “For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ, the Lord.” At this announcement Reuben let out a cry of joy, “Blessed be the Lord of Israel who is faithful!” The glowing stranger continued: And this will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger.”
Immediately, the light surrounding the three shepherds was eclipsed by an even brighter light shining down from the heavens. The stars were no longer visible, instead replaced with thousands upon thousands of luminous beings, their bodies emitting a pure white light. The most beautiful sound the shepherds had ever heard reached their ears, it was as though the perfect tune had been matched with the perfect words and the resulting song was the epitome of musical achievement.
The luminous beings praised God and sang in a harmonious round, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!” The song continued for several minutes as the shepherds stood, transfixed, with their faces turned heavenward watching the angels sing praises to God to celebrate the birth of the Messiah.
As quickly as it had begun it was over. The illuminated choir was replaced with thousands of stars and a dark sky. The shepherds were once more standing around a small fire. They stood in silence for several minutes, digesting the news they had just received and waiting for their eyes to adjust to the sudden return of darkness. Silence enveloped their world. Reuben was the first to break the quiet: “Brothers, let us go over to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has made known to us!” He was already reaching for his sack that contained all of his worldly goods.
Baruch was in complete agreement. “The prophet Isaiah was right!” He said, sounding both surprised and embarrassed at the same time. “We must see this child who will free us from the Romans and restore the kingdom!”
“Wait!” Itzhak’s voice, hard as stone, broke into their reverie. Years of automatic submission to Itzhak’s leadership kicked in and both Baruch and Reuben stopped and waited. Itzhak turned back to consider the lambs in the field and the sheep dogs moving among them. He had worked hard to nearly triple the size of the flock his father had left them. Years of sacrifice and dedication had resulted in a flock that was nearly large enough for Itzhak and his brothers to hire help and stop spending their nights sleeping under the stars or inside of their tent when the weather was unbearable. Within a few years, the flocks would be in good enough shape that the Temple might even purchase them. Between robbers and predators Itzhak knew that to go, at night to Bethlehem, would certainly result in disaster for the flock. All of the hard work, all of those years, would be thrown away.
“My brothers, we have our responsibilities here. The heavenly messenger did not instruct us to go and see the Messiah—he was just informing us of his birth.”
Reuben stepped forward and exclaimed, “We have seen the glory of God! We must go and see this child!”
“No,” Itzhak firmly replied. “We must stay here.” He gestured out at the lambs. “We must watch over them and protect them. This is the shepherd’s life. We live a selfless life—what you are suggesting is selfishness. We are not loved by our brethren, what makes you think the parents of a newborn will be happy to see dirty shepherds? Besides, you saw the multitude of angels in the heavens—everyone around here did too—surely that message was not merely for us. There will be numerous people searching for this…baby in a manger. When morning comes, if you still have a desire to see a new baby, then you can go. But not tonight.”
Reuben looked between his two brothers for a moment. There are times in life where lines must be crossed; where decisions must be made that will have far ranging consequences for how one will live their life. Reuben realized that he was facing just one of those moments. All of his life he had lived outside in the harsh elements in the countryside around Bethlehem. He had fought off wild beasts and robbers and slept on the stony ground in front of the bramble gate countless nights.
But that had not been his true life. While his body was present, going through the rhythmic actions of a shepherd’s life, his mind and heart had always been consumed with the stories of his people. As he would gaze at the flocks he would think about Jacob and Laban and the way Jacob had tricked Laban into giving him the choicest of his flock. And he would think about Jacob wrestling God in the Jabbok River and gaining that magnificent blessing. He often thought of Jacob and his relationship with his son, Reuben, and wondered if their relationship had been as distant as the one he had experienced with his father.
As he wandered the lonely, stony hills he thought of the young shepherd David who had slayed the great Goliath with a smooth stone from his sling. Reuben had never been very adept with the sling: he was all brute force and relied upon his strength and close range combat. David though, David was the source of legend. He thought of David’s rise from shepherd to the greatest king Israel had ever known.
But most of all, during the times of long solitude among the flocks Reuben thought about God. He thought about this God who had chosen Israel. He thought about this God who obviously was in control of the universe and yet seemingly did so little to right the wrongs Reuben saw daily: pain and suffering, tears, illness, the savage cruelties of nature and death. He often wondered where God was in the midst of such a cruel world. Perhaps that was why Reuben lived in the stories of his people so enthusiastically. In the words of the Prophets he was continually reminded of a God who agreed with him: all was not right with the world and one day God would make things right.
Reuben thought about how this God who so often seemed to be absent would suddenly appear, either directly or through his heavenly messengers, to make announcements and promises that evoked a sense of awe. He thought about God appearing to Abraham and promising a blessing of incomparable wealth; he thought of that same God appearing to Moses and the subsequent Exodus; of the angels who aided Daniel when he was in the fire; of the encouragement Samuel received to anoint David and the promise made to David about his future son. Through events such as that Reuben had been comforted with the knowledge that though God seemed absent he was steadily working towards something beautiful.
Now, Reuben realized, his years of living in these stories were coming to their climax that very evening. Today, the Angel had said, today in the city of David the long awaited Messiah had been born. The angel had also said he was Lord! Was this not the purpose of his life?
Reuben looked Itzhak in the eye. “Stay if you like Itzhak. There are times and places where God calls us to remember that he is more precious than all treasures. You may remain here if you want and watch over your sheep or you can make the decision to come and see this child who is Christ the Lord. As for me, I must see this child.”
Baruch spoke up, “Let us go over to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has made known to us.” And they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in a manger. And when they saw it, they made known the saying that had been told them concerning this child. And all who heard it wondered at what the shepherds told them.
But Itzhak remained behind. Shortly after his brothers left he took a burning log and carried it to the gate of their pen and built a new fire. Then he lay down with his body across the opening, his back to his sheep and stared out into the great darkness beyond the flames. For a time he mulled over the events of the evening wondering, “Had it even really happened?” Itzhak had been given the privilege of witnessing the greatest miracle in the history of the world but was unwilling to make a journey in faith to Bethlehem, for fear of losing what he had already gained in this world. He looked back at his sheep again, hoping that his future would remain secure throughout the night.
Years later, that baby born in Bethlehem would say, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.
Tonight, we await a celebration of materialism. Tonight, we await a celebration of our salvation through Jesus Christ. On this night, of all nights, let us do not get lost in the pursuit of worldly possessions and pleasures; but instead let go of that which is holding you down or keeping you from joining in with the shepherds and going in haste to see this child, who is Christ the Lord.
2 comments:
Superb story-telling, my friend! Simply superb!
Thanks!
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