Dear Theophilus,
If I had any question as to the
authenticity of the events in the letter you just wrote me, that would be the
end of my investigation. I know, I
know—it would be extremely short-sighted on my own behalf to end my exploration
before I even got into the meat of the story, but such an event seems too
far-fetched to be true. What purpose
does it serve for the son of God to be born in a stable, laid in manger? It all seems rather risky and dangerous to
me, and if I were God I certainly wouldn’t have taken the chance. Enough women die in childbirth as it is, and
to introduce so many more risk factors seems rather chancy on God’s part. It’s stories like this that make it almost
impossible for people like me to believe that God exists at all!
But, alas, my investigation must go
forward. I have received multiple
letters and heard this story related numerous times. If any of the story is true, this part is the
most likely in my view, simply due to the wide range of people in my life who
validate it. I may be ready to cast it
off as a cruel legend, but so many others are willing to step up and assert
that this is the way it happened that I must be willing to admit that there is
some truth to it, even if it seems beyond the realm of common sense to me. Even if this is far from the way that I think
it should be done!
And to think that shepherds were
involved, too! Why not just have the
baby in the gutters of the streets in Jerusalem and have the homeless come tend
to her?
Perhaps I have reflected on this
too much. It seems to have happened, for
whatever reason, and so I will move forward.
Have you heard of the shepherds?
You did not mention them in your correspondence, so I will assume that
you did not hear of the unexpected visitors Mary, Joseph and the baby had that
evening. I would have expected someone a
little more regal to drop in, but apparently shepherds are the new religious
elite, according to my source.
As would be expected, since
Bethlehem is not exactly a major metropolis, there were fields surrounding the
city, each one filled with shepherds tending to their sheep that evening. I hesitate to even mention this, for most of
us would assume that the shepherds were hallucinating before ever thinking such
a thing was true, but it has been impressed upon me with utmost urgency that
this is a reliable story. Anyway,
apparently an angel of the Lord (it is unknown if this is the same angel that
appeared to Mary and Elizabeth. If so, I
wonder if he hasn’t earned himself a nice vacation by now!) appeared before
these humble shepherds and scared the daylights out of them, because some sort
of light (God’s glory, as they called it) shone all around him, surrounding the
shepherds as well.
The first words the angel spoke
were, “Do not be afraid,” a curious greeting that is very similar to the one
offered to Mary. I would think that if I
were to meet an angel I would be too busy asking questions to be afraid! Perhaps that is why they avoid me—they don’t
want to be interviewed about the reality of God and his strange tactics. But I digress—The angel announced that it was
bringing joyous good news for everyone.
That must have had their attention!
The angel continued that a Savior, the long awaited Messiah, was born in
Bethlehem on that evening, and that they would find the child in a manger,
still swaddled in cloth.
It’s hard for me to continue with
this story. Remove it from its context
and I would probably suspect the shepherds of spending the evening with a
bottle rather than the sheep. Were a
shepherd to relate this story directly to me, I would put about as much faith
in it as I would a child’s idle tales.
But considered what I have already related to you as truth, it would be
cruel to cast off these particular shepherds as drunkards because they have
seen an angel. Still, though, it’s hard
for me to believe that they saw many angels surrounding the previous one angel,
all of them singing as some sort of heavenly choir, Glory to God in heaven, and peace on earth to his favored ones. It seems as though angels are appearing
everywhere in this tale.
After the angels left, the
shepherds could think of no good reason not to follow the angelic instructions
and seek out the child which they had been told about, believing God to have
directed them so. (What about the
sheep? Did they take them with
them? Leave them on their own? Choose one shepherd to stay behind and miss
seeing the supposed Messiah?) So they
went as quickly as possible and found Mary and Joseph and the child, just as
the angels had proposed they would, and they related all of this to Mary, each
one talking over the other, trying in vain to describe the heavens shining
around them as they listened to the angelic chorus. I know I write this with skepticism on full
display, but I would like to hear that, if such a thing truly happens.
As you can imagine, anyone who
heard the shepherds relating the tale was amazed, but Mary simply pondered
these things, holding them closely in her heart. In that moment, this was her child,
regardless of everything that was being predicted for him. She was just a young girl with her precious
infant, and I can think of no stronger bond in the world.
Before long the shepherds returned
to the field, filled with an energy that escaped them all other nights. They were praising God for what they
witnessed, amazed that everything had been just as the angels said it would.
There you have it, Theophilus. I believe it is well beyond the scope of good
sense to have shepherds be the first visitors to the child, but considering
that God didn’t even make provision for them to have the child in a decent
room, why not shepherds? It escapes me
to determine why God would do this thing in this manner, and I will freely
admit that my skepticism grows. Perhaps
it is all true, but this doesn’t seem like the actions of a God that I am in a
big hurry to offer my life to in service.
I hope that my attitude towards
this particular event does not disturb you.
I do look forward to your reply, and hope that I might be able to come to
some sort of understanding about all of this.
Sincerely,
Luke
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