A Montana shepherd wrote a strange request to
a Chicago radio station. The shepherd lived a lonely life with
his dog, four thousand sheep, a battery radio and an old violin.
He loved to listen to the Chicago Symphony Orchestra and wished he could play
along with them but his violin was badly out of tune.
So in his letter he wrote: “Sometime, before you start the next program,
would you have the orchestra play “A” for me?”
Just before the next Symphony broadcast thousands of listeners heard these
words: “The
orchestra will now play “A” for a shepherd in Montana.”
Isn’t that a nice story?
Doesn’t it warm your heart?
This poor, lonely man having his need met by an important, caring institution!
The two seem miles apart but they were brought together by an act of service.
This is the first Sunday of Advent.
In Advent we prepare for Christmas. Our opening story reminds
us of another act of service—this one offered by God
as God gave the world the gift of His Son, Jesus Christ.
Over the next few weeks we are going to look at the
impact of the nativity on various people 2000 years ago and see how that
impact still touches us.
The first impact we will look at is the one on the shepherds.
God touched them with more than an “A”.
To understand the significance of the angelic announcement
of Christ’s
birth to the shepherds we have to know something about the shepherds of
that day.
2000 years ago shepherds in Israel weren’t just poor and lonely—they
were despised. Because of the nature and hours of their work, shepherds had
a very difficult time keeping all the ritualistic laws associated with Judaism.
By not keeping the laws they were considered ceremonially unclean and therefore
couldn’t worship or associate with other Jews. They were looked down
upon. They were snubbed.
Probably as a result of their treatment shepherds got into
a lot of trouble. It was said that they were a little light
fingered. They often confused “thine” with “mine”.
Because of their reputation as thieves and untrustworthy scoundrels, they
were barred from giving evidence in court cases.
While they weren’t all dishonest, all were painted with the same
brush. As a group they were amongst the lowest on the social totem pole.
And so, to this lowly group, the Heavenly Host of angels
made their amazing proclamation. Just think—the very first people to hear—the very
first people to be told of the birth of Jesus—were a bunch of lowly,
despised outcasts.
The angels appeared—not to King and Queen—not to religious leaders—not
to political powers—but to shepherds. The proclamation came, not
to the top but to the bottom.
And what did these hardened men do?
They hurried off to see the baby Jesus.
Then they told everyone.
They told everyone what they had seen. The outcasts, who
couldn’t give
evidence in court, gave evidence of God’s precious gift to the world.
And those who heard were amazed.
One of the things the angels said in their proclamation to the shepherds is
emphasized by the fact that it was given to the shepherds first.
The angel declared, “I bring you good news of great
joy that will be for all the people.”
The birth of Jesus was news for all the people—even shepherds—even
those judged and shunned by the world. God’s love and care weren’t
limited by society’s barriers.
God blew those barriers away!
When we look at the Christmas story, time and time again,
we see that Jesus’ birth
was a lowly event for lowly people.
Our Lord wasn’t born in a palace with maids and servants
all about.
Jesus was born in a stable with cows and donkeys all about.
His parents weren’t royalty.
His parents were a carpenter and a young girl, who some considered a immoral
because she was pregnant before marriage.
The first people to arrive to see the baby Jesus weren’t
Caesar and King Herod.
The first people to arrive were shepherds.
The impact of the nativity on the shepherds showed God’s love for the
lowly—for those society rejected or judged unfairly.
Our society is one of the fairest, most tolerant in the
world. Yet we are far from perfect. It is up to Christ’s
Church to draw attention to the imperfections in our
society rather than grow comfortable with the status
quo.
Many in our society are poor, illiterate and forced into
lives where they can’t see, let alone reach, their full potential as human beings. Often
times we justify the poverty, the homelessness and the illiteracy by saying
it’s their own fault. It’s called “blaming the victim.”
But how much blame is to be shouldered by the family whose
father is unable to work because of degenerative disc disease?
With five children and no skills,
what does a poorly educated 50 year old man do? The man I knew in this
situation applied for welfare and long-term disability, while
at the same time going
out, against doctor’s orders, collecting scrap. He only made his back
problems worse trying to get enough money to survive. He was refused long term
disability four times before he finally received it—and then, the
amount received barely paid for rent and food.
And how much blame is to be shouldered by the teenager whose
mother is an alcoholic and whose father hasn’t been seen for five years? The odds
are much more in favour of that teen getting into trouble than being able to
make it out of that family’s struggles into a normal “middle-class” life.
A survey of street kids in Toronto showed that 93% had had to put up with
some form of serious abuse before they were forced to get out of the house
and live on their own.
There are, of course, always exceptions. Some people do
manage to overcome the odds. But most don’t. Is it fair to expect most people to do something
when, time and time again, it’s shown that only a few succeed?
If you are poor or badly educated, you are fighting against the tide.
Things aren’t always fair in our society. Fairness
often tends to be offered, not according to need, but according
to background.
A number of years ago a young teenager named Donald Marshall
got into trouble with the police once too often. He was at
the scene of a murder and even though
he didn’t commit the murder—even though the evidence pointed to
someone else—Donald was charged, tried and convicted. He was a young
thug at the time—a troublemaker. He didn’t commit murder but
his background overshadowed the evidence. He spent years in prison before
finally
winning release.
Ironically, at the same time Marshall’s appeal was
being sorted out, there was a news item, very briefly reported,
about a number of top lawyers
and judges in Manitoba fixing tickets for friends. Of all those charged
only two judges were convicted. One judge was dismissed with
full pension. The other
judge was dismissed then given a job in the Civil Service.
Is there fairness in our society for everyone?
Is justice assured?
Is there consistency when it comes to investigations and convictions?
Can we do better?
The lowly of society—those who make us uncomfortable—those who
are different because of a lack of money, education or culture—they,
too, are God’s people. God is for them as well.
God’s care isn’t just for the successful or
the confident or the ambitious or the powerful.
God’s care is for the failures—those who struggle with life—those
who are weak, dispirited, hopeless.
It’s for the “uns” of this world.
The unacceptable,
unappreciated,
unco-operative,
undependable,
uneducated,
unenlightened,
uninviting,
unlikeable,
unlovely,
unsuitable.
The lowly—the “uns”
Randy Cohen, writer of the weekly column "The Ethicist" for
The New York Times Magazine reminds us that:
“Real virtue lies, not in heroically saving orphans
from burning buildings, but in steadfastly working for a
world where orphans are not poor and buildings
have decent fire codes.”
The nativity reminds us of the impact of God’s virtue
on our world.
It’s an impact we know.
It’s an impact we have experienced.
It’s an impact we need to share with the “uns”!
Because—if Jesus were to have been born in our time, in our society— to
whom would the angels have spoken?
(1442)
© The Rev. Dennis Cook, St. Timothy’s Presbyterian Church, Ajax,
ON, Canada
