24 December 2008                                  
Carolyn L Roberts
Luke 2.1-14

“I wonder if the shepherds are allowed to hold the baby.”[1,81] That question is posed by one of my favorite commentators, Richard Swanson. I wonder if the shepherds are allowed to hold the baby.

I know when Jeffry and Aaron were born, it was our very closest friends who were there. Only distance prevented John’s mother and my parents from being among the very first to greet our new arrivals. They came as quickly as they could, of course, along with other members of the immediate family. And then the usual comments: he looks like he favors his Grampa John. What a sturdy child...he’s built just like his father! See how active he is? Reminds me of your Grampa Don. He never can holds still for long....

It wasn’t long before our next-door neighbors were over. Then other close friends and their children, members of the church, friends from seminary, colleagues, even Jonas, our postal carrier, all anxious to see the baby, all wishing us well. But people off the street? Migrant workers from California’s fertile valleys? Sanitation workers who whisked our garbage and recycling into the giant maws of rumbling trucks? Not a one of them beat a path to our door. And truth be told, if they had, we would have been more than a little startled. Which is exactly the point Luke is making in his telling of the story of Jesus’ birth.

Shepherds in the Palestine of Jesus’ time had a reputation as rough, colorful people who couldn’t be trusted, but whose livelihood was a necessary evil. After all, if you don’t eat pork, and cattle for beef are a thing beyond imagining, sheep and goats become a whole lot more important. But tending them is dirty, smelly work. So keep them outside of the community, out by the sanitation facilities. Wouldn’t want them polluting the atmosphere.

Yet right from the beginning of the story as Luke tells it, those who are outside, on the margins of respectable Jewish society, are those to whom God’s messengers herald the good news. They are not outside the margins after all; they are as much a part of the promise as Zechariah, the faithful Jew who is also a childless priest in the temple. Zechariah, who becomes father to John, known as the Baptizer. Zechariah and Anna and their son John are central to the story, reminding us of the prophets of Israel and of God’s long-standing promise to bring salvation to those who are oppressed. The shepherds are not outside the margins after all; they are as much a part of the promise as Mary, the faithful Jew who is also the unwed mother engaged to a man who is not the father of her baby.

Even though Zechariah and Anna are stigmatized for their lack of a child in a culture where children are viewed as a sign of God’s favor, they still are included, lifted up as faithful Jews, “observant and expectant children of [Father] Abraham and [Mother] Sarah.”[1,81] Stigmatized within their culture, yes, but Luke goes to great lengths to tell us that they never are excluded from all that God has promised. Even though Mary is stigmatized for her pregnancy in a culture where unwed mothers are candidates for stoning, she is still included, lifted up as a faithful Jew, an “observant and expectant child of [Father] Abraham and [Mother] Sarah.”[1,81] Stigmatized within her culture, yes, but Luke goes to great lengths to tell us that she never is excluded from all that God has promised.

We need to enter this wonderfully-familiar story very carefully. It is so layered with the patina of faith, the exquisite gilding of Middle Ages artists, and heart-warming renditions of children’s Christmas pageants that we may miss the radical message of inclusion, the extravagant message of welcome Luke portrays at every turn. It is a message that our culture–secular and sacred–often denies. It is still common for Black people to comment that a friend was ticketed for a DWB–driving while Black. LGBT friends often experience first-hand the message that some are more welcome within the faith community than others. On the secular front, the United States last week stood alone as the only Western nation unwilling to sign a declaration presented on the 18th at the United Nations, calling for a worldwide decriminalization of homosexuality. But Luke has angels appearing to shepherds–literally and figuratively people living on the margins of their culture, and the message to each of them is: don’t be afraid–we come with good news that will bring joy to the depths of your heart, good news that is given to everyone, everywhere, for all time. To you–and you–and you is born this day a Savior, a child wrapped in bands of cloth, lying in a manger.

That same message of radical inclusion and extravagant welcome is the message Jesus brings to the tax collector Zacchaeus, to the woman who had hemorrhaged for twelve years, to the child who died and was returned to life: you each are a Son of Adam or a Daughter of Eve; you each are a Son of Abraham or a Daughter of Sarah; you each are beloved; you each are inheritors of the promise. You each are welcome at the table of life. Thanks be to God!

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[1] Swanson, Richard W., Provoking the Gospel of Luke, The Pilgrim Press, ©2006.