Good News for the Shepherds: The Essential Workers
Shepherds: The Gospel’s Essential Workers
Preached at Wollaston Congregational Church
December 18th, 2022
Scripture: Luke 2:1-20
This past fall, I went to England and spent a few days on vacation with my mum in the Lake District region in Cumbria. The Lake District is a national park with a deep history. And it is truly beautiful in a uniquely English way. The hills, called fells, are practically sheer. In-between there are dramatic grassy valleys, dotted with tarns or small lakes. The lower landscape is divided into farms by ancient dry-stone walls which extend for miles.
If you are very fit you can hike the fells, or you can take walks around the tarns, if you are less adventurous like me. There are also historic places to visit, such as poet William Wordsworth’s cottage, or children’s writer Beatrix Potter’s houses. Whether you are in the valleys or the hills you will see sheep.
Our visit as tourists to the Lakes prompted me to revisit a favorite book, “The Shepherd’s Life: Modern Dispatches from an Ancient Landscape” by James Rebanks. Rebanks is a shepherd who lives in the Lake District. He comes from a long line of shepherds. They can trace their roots in the region back 600 years – on paper – but they know they have been there much longer.
The Rebanks breed Herdwick sheep, who are hardy and tough and live on the fells. Tradition held that this breed of sheep was brought to England by the Vikings. Recently, DNA testing confirmed that the Herdwicks “nearest relatives are sheep in Sweden, Finland, Iceland, and the northern islands of Orkney.” [1] Rebanks points out that the calls the Lake District shepherds use to round up their sheep, “hoeeewup, hoeeewup”, “cus, cus, cus, cus,” resemble the calls that Swedish reindeer herders use.
As a child, Rebanks did not know that he lived in the Lake District. He simply lived in his home and his family tended sheep. He was put to service very early. It was all he knew and it was all he wanted to do. School was an annoying inconvenience and interrupted his time working on the farm.
Rebanks resented his teachers who seemed to think that the only hope for the students was to follow a career that would take them away from the area. For many years he was stubborn stuck to his plan to be a shepherd, but shepherding doesn’t pay all the bills needed to raise a family on a farm. Today he is also a writer and “an expert advisor to the UNESCO World Heritage Centre in Paris.” [2]
As a boy Rebanks never understand the tourists who walked through their land, dressed in fancy hiking gear carrying topographical maps. He had no interest in Wordsworth or Potter.
The locals may not understand the tourists, but the most tourists do not understand the shepherds either. Visitors are inclined to romanticize the shepherd’s life. And as I leafed through the sheep-themed water colors and Christmas tree ornaments in quaint little gift shops, I was inclined to do the same.
But Rebanks does not romanticize. He reminds readers that shepherding is tough, even with the advantages of modern technology. It can be rewarding but also heartbreaking. In the winter time, sheep may be suddenly stranded by snow and die. Lambing is an anxious and exhausting time. Shepherds struggle to deliver newborn lambs safely and persuade reluctant mothers to suckle their babies. They can lose lambs to predators or disease, unexpected weather can bring death and loss. And yet the Herdwicks only thrive in the fells, they would not do well anywhere else. They are “hefted to the land” and Rebanks confesses that he is also “hefted to the land.”
This week we heard of the fourth angelic appearance in the story of Jesus’ birth. In today’s story, shepherds who live in the fields are keeping watch over their flocks by night. These shepherds do not even live on a farm. They work and live in the hills surrounding Jerusalem. But the history and the politics of the place mean very little to them. Their days and nights are focused on the survival of the sheep. It is their livelihood, it is their own survival.
The shepherds may be “hefted to the land” like James Rebanks, having lived in those hills for generations, unable to thrive anywhere else. Or they may be migrant workers, who have found their way to Judea from Egypt, Syria or other neighboring land.
They are paid a pittance, and yet they protect a vital source of nourishment for the people in the cities and villages below. They are essential workers of their time, barely noticed by anyone.
The shepherds are used to living under the radar of the city folk. At least no one asks them to show up for the census. At this time many citizens are traveling to Bethlehem, crowding the city of the shepherd king, David.
The shepherds make their own community, up there in the fields. Perhaps they gather around a campfire and take turns watching for predators, allowing the others to close their eyes for a short while.
They do not expect a sudden brilliant light, which blinds their dark-adjusted eyes. An angel appears and he greets them in the characteristic way saying – “Do not be afraid; for see--I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people - to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.”
They are the first to know. The angels entrust these shepherds with an amazing message. They are expected to go and see. The angels tell them “you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” When they find him, they will know that the angel’s message was real and true.
And then the shepherds are surrounded by the most glorious light show, as a whole host of angels appears praising God, declaring “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!" No one down in the city looks up. It is all for them. And so they gather their belongings and hurry to Bethlehem.
We don’t know whether the shepherds who are visited by angels in the field that night know of the metaphor of God as shepherd of the people. And they cannot know that Jesus, the baby they will visit in the manger, will one day say “I am the Good Shepherd.”
The shepherds may not know the connection between the city of David and the shepherd king. They may not know that the youngest and smallest child of Jesse was was out tending the sheep when he was called to be the king of Israel. Perhaps the young David had been out on the very same hills as the Christmas shepherds, some 1,000 years before them.
The shepherd do know the angel’s message: “to you, is born this day a savior …” To you. The good news, which is for ALL people, is given to them first. This must not have escaped their notice.
And they do hear the angels’ praises, in which peace is announced for the people whom God favors. And, wonder of wonders, this message indicates that they – the first recipients of the good news – are people favored by God.
And so, this morning we are left pondering the meaning of this story, for ourselves and for our communities this Advent season.
We may hear the message “to YOU this day” as speaking directly to us. It could be that you sometimes identify with the shepherds. Perhaps you sometimes feel overlooked by the people in power. Perhaps the political and religious leaders of this city, this state, or this nation, do not seem to speak for you. Perhaps, when good things happen, you are often left out. Or when censuses are taken you are forgotten and unaccounted for. Perhaps you are “hefted to the land” in the place where you live, but it is changing beyond recognition around you.
Or perhaps you are a newcomer, trying to figure out this strange new world you find yourself in. Perhaps you are among the Haitian refugees dropped off like unclaimed luggage, in the towns of Plymouth and Kingston.
Perhaps you are an essential worker and you were not allowed to protect yourself during the worst of the pandemic. You may be a nurse’s aid in a nursing home, a daycare employee, or a retail employee stocking the shelves in our grocery stores. You may drive a bus or deliver the mail. Perhaps you do not speak English, and so you cannot understand what is going on around you and you suspect that what you hear is not always welcoming.
Are you among the people who receive the least attention, the lowest pay? If so, God says you belong to the people whom he favors. The angels are bringing good news directly to you, this day.
The rest of us – we who do not identify so strongly with the shepherds - are more like the citizens of the larger Roman Empire, flocking to Bethlehem to be counted. Or we are like the tourists in the Lake District, admiring the scenery but unaware of the daily lives of the farm workers. We romanticize the shepherds of today and of the Christmas story, as we sing “The First Nowell” of “certain poor shepherds.”
Fortunately for us, the shepherds are bringing the good news of the gospel. They are not only the essential workers of the community, they are the first responders of the gospel.
May people like me, who are not so overlooked, who know that we are seen and accounted for, turn our attention toward you shepherds, the heralds of good news. Because when we do there will be peace, shalom, in all the world. That is what the coming of the Christ child brings.
May all God’s people say,
Amen
[1] Rebanks, James. The Shepherd's Life: Modern Dispatches from an Ancient Landscape (p. 66). Flatiron Books. Kindle Edition.
[2] Ibid., 204