In the name...
So, I've told some of you this story before, but it bears repeating tonight. I have a seminary friend that would nightly read Bible stories to his children when they were younger. And whenever he got to a part when an angel appeared, his kids would laugh and cover their ears and hunker down, because he would always shout at the top of his lungs. “BEHOLD!” he would yell. “I'M A BIG HEAVENLY ANGEL!” he would mean.
Angels didn't know any better, my friend thought. Their normal mode of operation was fluttering around in heaven, yelling at each other from cloud to cloud. Plus with all the noise of the heavenly hosts constantly singing and all those wings flapping, and an angel's gotta project to be heard on a busy street paved with gold.
Add to that the fact that angels tend to appear out of thin air, not giving you hints ahead of time that something's about to happen. They don't stand their while you're sleeping, gently shaking your shoulder, whispering, “Pssst, hey, wake up. Hey, hey.”
Nope, for my seminary friend, it's POOF! Angel! With a BEHOLD!!!!! Sort of a heavenly way of jumping out of a closet and shouting, “BOO!” This, he told his kids, is what they are taught in angel school.
So, I figure that our Angel outside Bethlehem scares those poor innocent shepherds half to death in this story. I mean, there they are, just a bunch of guys, sitting out in the fields, keeping watch over their flocks by night. They've probably been sitting around the fire, talking about pretty girls and bragging about things they've never done. And suddenly, out of the blue, POOF! Angel.
All bright and shiny and probably at least five or six times their size. And the first thing it shouts at them is, “FEAR NOT!!!!!”
Fear not??? How can they NOT fear not? This is really going on. God's messanger is booming forth right in front of them.. This is scary stuff. Especially since they know that angels don't just pop in to see what's going on. When angels appear, things start to happen.
“Fear Not,” the angel says, “for behold I bring you good tidings of great joy. A savior is born, the Messiah is here.”
And this probably is not helping the shepherds dial back their anxiety. The Messiah is supposed to be a warrior like David, putting Israel back in it's rightful place among the nations. This will not make the Romans happy. There is going to be war, the shepherds are sure of it. It's hard enough being a shepherd on a good day, but with troops tramping through the fields, snatching up all the sheep, arresting shepherds for looking suspicious, this is going to be awful.
“Fear Not!,” the angel goes on, “you will find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes.”
Wait! What? Perhaps the shepherds finally begin to listen. A baby? An innocent little baby? That's our savior? OK, ok, this can work. Babies take time to grow, and a lot can happen in those years. Maybe Rome will even be gone.
“Fear Not!,” says the angel. “This savior is lying in a manger...off to the side...in some barn or cave, barely keeping warm.”
And before the shepherds can wrestle with this, POOF! More angels! Joyous angels, a Gospel Choir of angels, praising God. And like with any good Gospel choir, the shepherds get swept up in the joy, forget their purpose in life for a while, and head off to see this miracle.
“Fear not!” I can almost see that angel's face, a warm, loving smile on it, standing in that spot, out in some nowhere place, looking like any nowhere place, until the end of time. Watching those shepherds go off to town, all fear forgotten. And sending people out after them for centuries, each from our own spots in the wilderness, headed off in search of that manger.
Fear not.
And maybe, by now, as we approach we start to run swiftly to that manger, because kids, they grow up so fast nowadays, and we need to see this miracle right away, because we so desperately need to see miracles. We so desperately need to hear angels. And if we don't get there quick, the child will be grown, and off on his own, walking into destiny, in one way walking out of our lives, and in another way walking back in to them forever, changing us in ways we never imagined. Ways that can be scary, because we know the story...we know we'll be called on to love. And being called to love in an unloving world can be so scary.
And that angel leans in and whispers in our ear, “Fear not.”
Maybe by now, centuries down the road, we know what tonight's story truly means. It's not about a baby really. I mean, it is (there is a baby, yes), but, in some ways,it isn't. It's about that new born faith in each of us that walks that same path with “the Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” Us as shepherds, learning from the first moment that baby draws it's breath, that we are given the chance to do something miraculous – if only we just fear not.
Children, infants, families, all around the world streaming away from their homes torn through war and violence, neglect and injustice, needing help, needing someone to travel forward in love to meet them, to see that miraculous babe in each of their faces. Calling on us to see them. So, Fear not.
Pressures of the world pushing us to look at others in distrust and suspicion, while our Savior looks at the world with the eyes of a baby, filled with love and wonder, calling on us to do that, too! Fear not.
Fighting for, standing with, the poor, the widow, the orphan, like our prophet ancestors throughout the ages have always urged us to do, in a time we'd rather just look after our own. But, Fear not.
Looking at the needs of the world, and then looking around here at each other, and asking “What would we do as a church if we weren't afraid to do it?” Fear not.
Fear not. God is here...now. God with us...here, now. So fear not.
Tonight, there is a multitude of heavenly hosts, singing out with such joy, and tonight, too, there is a multitude of earthly hosts, joining our voices to theirs. Because we know this story so well, and we will commit ourselves, once again, to live it out as best we can, following our Savior through his joys and his pains, remembering always to love God and love our neighbor, with courage and no fear at all.
And when we will leave tonight, some of us might stop outside, or maybe in our driveways when we get home. Maybe some of us might go out on the back porch for just a little peace and quiet before tomorrow gets a little too hectic. And maybe each of us, wherever we are, will look up in the sky. And maybe we'll see a spot of light, a star, that we've never noticed before. And maybe we'll hear music beginning to swell up. And maybe we'll know, in the back of our minds, we'll know that the adventure of our lives is about to begin anew, an adventure that fills our soul, a new life about to take flight, driving us out into the world to live in a new, Christ-like way.
And maybe then, we'll feel it, someone watching us. And we'll turn around and look and behold! An angel standing there that will smile at us, throw up his arms, and shout with joy, “Fear Not!!!!
Merry Christmas.