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Preached in Markham Baptist Church, December 16,  2007

There’s always one missing.  Sheep aren’t dumb, but sometimes they are dumb.  They’re always wondering off, they just keep grazing and grazing and grazing – not minding where they’re going.

Most folks think that shepherding is a relaxing occupation.  They tease us saying, “Did you have a good sleep last night?” or “You’re legs must be cramped from sitting all the time.” 

Sitting!  Ha! I wish!  We’re always going after the ones that wander off.  Always leading the flock to new pastures.  It makes for a lot of walking and not much sitting.

I’ll say one thing for sheep - they certainly are predictable.  I can tell you that the one I’m looking for now isn’t a lamb.  No, like most mothers, the ewes don’t allow their young to wander too far away, they keep their lambs close.  And this is lambing season - I’d say that half our flock are lambs. 

Have you ever seen a lamb? I wouldn’t tell the other men this, but they are very cute.  Huge eyes, little legs, beautiful tight coat of white.  They just fit in the nook of your arm.  

As I say, half our flock right now are lambs.  We have to time it just right.  Passover is coming up in a couple of months.  And all my lambs will be sold to the temple priests for the Passover sacrifices.  Each little one will be offered in the temple to remember the salvation God won for us. 

I’m pretty proud of that fact.  The Pharisees and the Priests wish we shepherds had nothing to do with the sacrifices – but what can they do?  Someone has to raise the lambs and get them ready.  They put up with us.  Tolerate us.  It’s not our fault our jobs don’t allow us to keep all the rituals of the law.  We can’t be doing all the ritual washings and sacrifices and looking after the sheep at the same time.

Anyway, I’m pretty sure that I’m not looking for a lamb – the one that’s missing is a ram – I’m certain it’s that hard-headed one.  I call him Gideon – he’s always putting me to the test, hence the name - you know, the prophet tested God. 

But I’ll find him. I always do. 

You know in all my years of shepherding I have discovered that that there are two keys to being a good shepherd.  The first one might sound silly – but it’s “be the sheep”.   I’ve grown up among sheep – my father was as shepherd as was his father, as was his father.  I never remember a time when I wasn’t around sheep.  “If you’re going to be a good shepherd you have to live with the sheep,”  my father would say.   So, living with sheep, you learn a thing or two about sheep.  I know their habits. I know the different pitches of their bleating.  One pitch will tell me they’re frightened, another will tell me that they are content.  One pitch will tell me they are hungry and another will tell me that they are thirsty.  I can tell when they’re lost and when they are tired.  I can tell from the colour of their skin if they are healthy or if they are sick.

I don’t know how other shepherds can be so ignorant of the ways of sheep.  I mean, the job is pretty straightforward.  Lead them to cool waters and green pastures and all the while protect them from harm. 

But some shepherds try to cut corners.  They let them graze too long in some pasture land or they push them too hard during herding.  They don’t pay attention to their sheep. 

The key to tending sheep it not to watch them or even try to think like them – the key is to become the sheep.  I know it sounds crazy and I know I can’t do it fully but I’m convinced that the best way to care for sheep is to be sheep.

Do you know that some sheep can even sense danger?  They feel it in the wind.  Some say that I have that ability too - I’ve watched them, and I know when danger is present. 

That’s why I’m not too concerned about this ram right now.  There’s nothing in the wind that smells of danger.  He’s just lost.  Well, not too lost. I do know where he is.  I’ve been a shepherd for 44 years – they don’t surprise me anymore. 

Ahh. There you are, right where I thought.  Come on, Gideon, back you go.

You know, the rest of the shepherds thought that I should just leave you behind – told me that you weren’t worth the trouble.  But there’s the second key to being a good shepherd.  A good shepherd is concerned not just with his flock but with every individual sheep in the flock.  There isn’t one that doesn’t matter. 

I love that passage in the Psalms, “The Lord is my Shepherd I shall not be in want.  He makes me to lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside still waters.  He restores my soul.  He guides me in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.  Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for your rod and your staff they comfort me.”

There’s a lot of talk among us Hebrews about the coming of the Messiah.  I have always learned that the promised one of God will be a great king.  But I sometimes wonder if the coming Messiah won’t be a great Shepherd.  After all, David was a shepherd before he was a king.  And maybe, I thought, our Messiah will come as a shepherd just like the one described in that Psalm – tending his sheep Israel, caring for them, and leading them, just like the Psalm says.

I never thought I could be more right, I never thought I could be more wrong.  That is how the Messiah came, but it isn’t how the Messiah came.  How do I know?  Well, I know because I’ve seen him.  Have I never told you the story? 

It was only just a few years ago now.  We were just out side of Bethlehem.  The pasture lands there are perfect at this time of year and we were feeding our flocks.  Keeping watch over them as we do for predators and the like.  It was a quiet, star-filled night.  I remember it was quite cold so we didn’t stay still for long.  We weren’t talking about much, when you’ve been shepherding with the same group for much of your life, there isn’t much to talk about.  And so there was nothing breaking the peace – no voices, no sheep bleating, just a quiet, starry night.

When suddenly an angel of the Lord appeared to us.  We were terrified. I was terrified.  We had to shield our eyes it was so glorious. 

But the angel said to us, “Do not be afraid.”  Well that was easier said than done.  I was thinking, “What does the angel want with us?   Will he strike us down?  I know we didn’t attend all the feasts and sacrifices last year but ….”

Well the angel continued, “I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.”  That relieved some of the tension.  We were being a given a message – for all the people.

The angel said, “Today in the town of David a Saviour has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord.”  Wow! I thought.  The moment has finally arrived.  My grandfather would often talk about the coming Messiah, but I never thought He would come during my life time and I never thought an angel of the Lord would appear to me to tell me about it.  I wondered what palace He was born in – what royal family would have the child?

The angel continued – “This will be a sign to you; you will find the baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”    Lying in a manger?  That part didn’t make sense.  What kind of king would be lying in a manger?  What kind of royal family would use a cattle stall to deliver a baby? But my thoughts were interrupted … by “a whole company of the heavenly host appearing with the angel singing glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to those on whom his favour rests.”

Then the angels left us.  We were speechless for a while.  But then I just started walking toward Bethlehem.  The rest of the shepherds called after me – “Where are you going?” 

“To Bethlehem,” I said.  They were soon running after me.  “What about the sheep?” they said when they had caught up.  I had other things, bigger things on my mind than sheep.  “Don’t worry about the sheep.” I said.  “We have to go to Bethlehem to see this thing that has happened.”

As we walked, ran actually, as we ran the shepherds asked, “How will we know when we’ve found the baby?”

“You will find the baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger,” I repeated.  “There can’t be many babies lying in a feed trough,” I said as we picked up the pace.  The shepherds knew by my face that they shouldn’t ask any more questions.  I was lost in thought and trying to figure it all out. 

The questions kept coming.  How could the promised one of God be laid in a manger?  He should be in a palace wrapped in the finest cloth, not in old cloths.  How could the Promised One be a baby?  He should be a mighty warrior, a great priest?  It didn’t add up. 

When we got to Bethlehem we searched every stall we could find.  Some were filled with cattle, some were filled with people who were unable to find room in the inns because of the census.  But none of them were the right ones.  Finally we found it – we knew it was the right one because there was the new mother - her name was Mary - and a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.        

I will never forget that scene.  The mother and father were staring down at their little child with a mixture of awe and thanksgiving.  I’ve never been married so I’ve never had a child but I know the awe and thanksgiving I feel when I hold a new born lamb in my arms. 

One of my fellow shepherds whispered, “It’s the Promised One of God.”   We stepped closer, quietly, not wanting to disturb the family or this holy moment. 

I remember thinking, “This is not just a baby, this is the Messiah, the Saviour, God’s promised child.  Emmanuel!”  I thought.  But I must have spoken the word, not just thought it because the woman looked at me and said, “Yes, Emmanuel, God with us.”

The man bent down and picked up the child and held him out to me. I refused, thinking that such rough hands were fine for rams and ewes, but more gentle hands were needed for this.   But he insisted, so I held the child in my arms.

And I remember looking down at the little Messiah child and thinking how right I was and how wrong I was.  I was right – God had come as a Shepherd.  He would lead His people to green pastures and still waters and would lead them in paths of righteousness.  We would not need to fear the valley of the shadow of death. 

But I also thought how wrong I was.  He had come as a Shepherd – but more.   Emmanuel – God with us – He did not come in power and glory but in humility and in weakness.

I knew this little child would change everything.  And I realized that God loves you and me more than I ever thought or imagined. You as an individual mean more to God than I ever thought possible. 

For you see God did not just come as a Shepherd – but more.  As I looked down at this little lamb I realized that God had not just come as a shepherd but God had become the sheep.

Copyright MBC and Tom Cullen - December 2007