The Bible tells a story about three groups of people involved in the first advent story: an unmarried pregnant woman, pagan, idolatrous “wise” men, and a small band of dishonest, probably smelly guys; all believed, at the time, to be the spiritual rejects of 1st century Judean culture.
The story begins with the smelly guys, hanging out in the middle of nowhere, watching some sheep that belong to a wealthy person who’s entrusted them with the care of thier property…
…in the middle of nowhere…
…no witnesses.
As you can imagine, being a shepherd comes with certain difficulties associated with people whose resources are limited. It was common to return the herd to its owner light a few heads of sheep; wolves and/or thieves being the most frequent explanation.
But everyone knew that if you send a poor person out into the Judean countryside’s nether-regions, in full view of nobody, they’ll probably help themselves, then lie about it.
Who could blame them?
That was the reputation of shepherds in Jesus’ day. I’m sure there were some honest ones among them, but the idea of this story isn’t to paint a peaceful, pastoral scene. It opens with a group of known/likely criminals, at night, who’d probably just finished off some of their boss’ property.
So when the sky lights up and the angel appears, the first century Jewish reader would immediately think that punishment is coming. That’s why the shepherds were “sore” afraid. It’s not just that angels, as the Bible describes them, are scary as hell, it’s that the author wants to give you an idea of what’s going on in the mind of a bad guy when one of God’s angels appears, usually the herald of retribution and justice in the Old Testament.
It’s brilliant storytelling, especially considering what comes next.
Instead of punishment, the shepherds are sent to herald Messiah’s arrival.
Messiah.
Like, the one sent directly from God to make everything right: believed to be the most powerful human the world would ever see, God in flesh of all things, formally announced to the muckety-mucks of Israel by some of the worst people imaginable.
Why? Does God not understand the finer points of marketing?
It doesn’t matter what these shepherds said, or how they said it, nobody’s going to show up.
Nobody important.
The author is intentionally jerking around with our feeble understandings of how God works and why He does what He does. He’s taken our worship of good behavior as well as our perspective of who’s good/who’s bad/etc. and injected a serious dose of tension in the hopes that our minds might be oriented towards something higher.
To better understand the gist of this story, there’s an Old Testament verse that helps us out, one from a prophet who predates Jesus by 700 years, believed to be talking about the coming Messiah:
“Every valley He shall raise up,
every mountain and hill will be made low”
~Isaiah 40:4
I’ve always been fascinated that our oldest copy of Isaiah’s words predate Jesus by 175 years.
In this prophet’s mind, the important people will be brought low and the losers will be exalted. When this work is finished, everyone will be on the same level. No more social caste systems where money, accomplishment, good looks, etc. make someone more important than someone who hasn’t managed to distinguish themselves.
Hence the smelly bad guys, regardless of their reputation, are given an express elevator straight to the top.
But, for those of us who’ve become a bit too enamored with good behavior, we ask, “Does God not care about their sin?” Most of the people in this shepherd crowd aren’t, for the moment, hungry. They’re guilty, bellies full of stolen meat, now running around town like idiots trying convince everyone else to come to a cow stall to see a king.
Surely God doesn’t appreciate people like this, much less give them a seat of honor at the table.
Personally, I’m left completely baffled, with no cute, nerdy resolutions for the tension this creates. I do however believe that God loves it when us spiritual know-it-all’s throw up our hands and confess one the most powerful theological truths a human can embrace:
“I don’t know.”
The only thing I can respond with is this: if we’re to partner with God in His work to “flatten hills” and “fill valleys,” this story, first and foremost, indicts us.
If you’re wondering why our churches are, predominately, white and wealthy, guess no further. There’s a reason why we’re so homogeous, why our buildings are so grand new. Nobody wants to worship in a dump, with people who have no choice but to worship anywhere else.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my church, and my faith. They’ve both conspired to produce a middle-aged cajun male who’d otherwise be a complete wreck. I’d add that Christianity in general has done America a world of good.
But we have to accept the fact that there are some unsavory aspects of American culture that have infiltrated the ranks of American Christianity.
The American social caste system is one of them.
We ascribe high value to a certain cross section of people in our culture, usually folk whose lives are distinguished by influence, money, accomplishments, etc.
The more distinguishables you manage to acquire, the more value you have, and vice versa. Church is no different. Everyone wants to be friends with the pastor, or the influential people, the pretty ones, etc., while the plain folk sit in the background, some happily so.
The manger scene is a story that details the fact that God doesn’t play this game, and serves as an invitation for us to join in the games He does play.
But that involves two activities, both unsavory to the American Christian mind.
First, we have to open our hearts and minds to the people we’ve deemed unworthy. But we’ve deemed them so for a reason. They don’t think the right way about God, or, more importantly, our version acceptible behavior. They pose some kind of threat to us and/or our wellbeing. They sit on the wrong side of the political hill and therefore can’t be Christian, and therefore all of the above.
Some of us believe that the sins of others will earn damnation from God.
Those are the exact reasons why the important people in the manger story didn’t associate with the losers. In their minds, there were sound, legitimate, oftentimes spiritual reasons not to associate with such folk.
That’s why these self-proclaimed servants of the Lord were given the same invitation as the shepherds, sans the metaphysical part, and declined. God said, “O come all ye faithful” through the mouths of low people – a method sure to fail – and it He was understandably rejected.
But as it is in so many other Bible stories, the losers turn out to be the winners.
And vice versa.
Second, we’ll need to remember where our good fortune comes from, and what we’re supposed to do with it. I don’t mean to imply that if you’ve mined some success from this rock we live on that you don’t deserve it, but there are plenty of people working harder than you do who don’t have half as much.
The scriptures seem to suggest that whatever we have hangs on the whim of the almighty: our fortune can change at the snap of his fingers.
As such, we’re compelled to be thankful for our blessings, but to also reflect on the power they give us, and how we might use that power for people that don’t have as much. Money, influence, popularity, etc. can all be used on behalf of someone else, but we tend instead to expend our energy and resourses protecting what we have.
Got lots of money? Popularity? Fame? Influence? What’s your plan? Hold on for dear life, protect it with everything you have, or let go and wield its true power?
“Whoever seeks to keep their life will lose it.
Whoever loses their life will find it.”
~ Luke 17:33
Jesus seemed to think that life is not earned, or bought/sold, it’s given by God to those who best understand the one that controls it.
That might sound crazy to you, but to me it’s an invitation to let go of the things I’ve been given so that they can do more than they ever would sitting idle in my bank account.
But forget the Bible, spiritual, metaphysical stuff. How you interface with humanity is fundamental to your happiness. Deeming others unacceptable/unholy/unworthy of your investment is the quickest way to a life nobody wants.
Worse, it’s impossible to hold yourself in the same regard that God does, while simultaneously distancing yourself, for whatever reason, from people who aren’t worthy of your company.
Either way, if you’ve audited your life and found that it more closely resembles the people who stayed comfortable in the manger story, you’ll have a difficult truth to face. But for most of us Christians, we’re too busy auditing our Bible knowlege, ruminating over the finer points of culturall faithfulness, and trying to figure out how we might keep from losing “what matters most” to worry about what our associations might suggest about our deeper beliefs.
But it’s here that I’ll have to stop talking and instead reflect on what I’ve said above. When it comes to judging/marginalizing/distancing, I’m the chiefest of sinners, easily in danger of saying no to God’s invitations when they’re not wrapped in pretty bows.
Suffice it to leave you with a scene from another brilliant story, on Ebenezer Scrooge as he peered out his bedroom window after Jacob Marley’s visit:
“The air was filled with phantoms, wandering hither and thither in restless haste, and moaning as they went. Every one of them wore chains like Marly’s ghost; some few (they might be guilty governments) were linked together; none were free. Many had been personally known to Scrooge in their lives. He had been quite familiar with one old ghost, in a white waist-coat, with a monstrous iron safe attached to its ancle, who cried piteously at being unable to assist a wretched woman with an infant, whom it saw below, upon a door-step. The misery with them all was, clearly, that they sought to interfere, for good, in human matters, and had lost this power for ever.”
Reflecting on the power that we have, hoping we use it, and wishing you a happy holiday.
It won’t. It can’t. It doesn’t have that kind of power. Outside of the things that keep us alive and healthy, there’s nothing material on this planet that can de-mange this place.