In the last
of our three reflections on the songs of the nativity we come to the main
event, the birth itself, and the shepherds, abiding in the fields, minding
their own business until heaven bursts into their lives and the angels’ song
chases away any chance of sleep.
These
shepherds are interesting characters and their significance has been
interpreted in all sorts of different ways. Some commentators have seen in them
echoes of the shepherd images in the Old Testament; of King David the shepherd
boy who becomes a king, and God himself, the shepherd who leads us beside still
waters and feed us in green pastures. But the truth is that shepherds at the
time of Christ were often regarded as very disreputable. They seem to have had
a reputation for dishonesty too, often accused of grazing their flocks on other
people’s land. So maybe these shepherds
are meant to foreshadow all the other sinners and outcasts whom Christ welcomed
and honoured.
There is a
third possibility too. These are, specifically, shepherds living just outside
Bethlehem, which is just a few miles from Jerusalem. In ancient times this
seems to have been where the lambs were raised that were used as sacrifices in
the Temple. These lambs had to be perfect, without any blemish if they were to
be acceptable. Maybe Luke is reminding us that Jesus is the Lamb of God, the
perfect sacrifice that ended the need for sacrifice? It’s all speculation –
Luke doesn’t spell it out and we probably miss things that would have been obvious
to those he was writing for. But whoever they are it is clear that the
shepherds aren’t the kind of people who would have expected to be first in line
to hear about a royal birth. This kind of thing just doesn’t happen to them. Except
that now it has.
A multitude of
angels appear in the sky, praising God and singing the song which forms the
beginning of the canticle we sing every Sunday at communion, the Gloria. “Glory
to God in the highest heaven. and on earth peace among those whom he favours!”,
or, as we know it, “Glory to God in the highest and peace to his people on
earth.” The Greek can be translated in a number of ways, but the key to it all
is the first word, Glory. This is a song that acclaims the Glory of God, the
glory that is now spilling out onto the shepherds.
Glory was a
very significant word in both the Old and New Testaments. Luke uses the Greek word -“doxa” – but it is the direct
equivalents of the Hebrew word “Kabod” (pronounced “kavothe”). Kabod
wasn’t just a metaphor or an abstract noun to the people of the Bible. The
Glory of God was an actual thing, a distinct phenomenon. The root from which it
is derives means heavy or substantial. Although it is often described in terms
of shining light, there was nothing ethereal about it. It was a weighty thing, full
and abundant, but often terrifying as well. Moses encountered the glory of God on Mount
Sinai and “the appearance of the
glory of the Lord was like a devouring fire,” we are told. (Exodus 24.17) And when he came down the mountain, his own
face shone with glory so brightly that he had to wear a veil to stop it
dazzling people.
It was the
visible sign of God’s presence. Ezekiel the prophet described seeing the glory
of the Lord leaving the Temple in Jerusalem before the Babylonians destroyed it.
It wheeled up into the sky and over the mountains that surrounded the city
until it was gone from sight. It was a powerful symbol of his despair for his
nation. But he also had a vision of it returning just as it had gone. One day
the Temple would be restored.
But now this
kabod, this glory, is spilling out of heaven and landing where? In the
midst of a bunch of shepherds. It isn’t shining in the Temple. It isn’t shining
on some High Priest or king. It is shining on some anonymous, poor, ordinary
shepherds. And it is directing them to a
manger, not a palace, and to the son of a couple around whom there was at least
a whiff of scandal – a child born too soon after their wedding to be strictly
respectable. This is where God’s glory is now coming to rest. This is where
God’s presence is. Who would have thought it?
“Peace among those who he favours” sing the angels, which sounds like a
rather barbed comment. It’s fine if you are one of the favoured ones, but what
if you aren’t? But the good news of the angels’ message is that in this child
God’s favour rests on anyone who is open to it. Jew and Greek, slave and free,
men and women, the respectable and the outcast, the rich and the poor.
As Paul reminds
the Colossians we can look into ourselves and into each other and see “Christ
in you, the hope of glory”. We don’t have to go up Mount Sinai. We don’t
have to look in the Temple. We don’t have to wait for some religious expert to
dispense it to us. God has come to live in each of us, and in those around us, in
all his glory. In the silence tonight, let’s ask ourselves whether we really
believe that – about ourselves, about others. If the answer is no, or not as
much as we should do, let’s ask ourselves what difference it would make if we
really did.
Amen
No comments:
Post a Comment