An Unlikely Peace for the Lowly

We’ve talked about the prophets, Zechariah and Elizabeth, Mary and Joseph. Now it’s time for some more about the shepherds.

I named this third week of Advent, Radical Intersections (the most unlikely participants). The whole Nativity story is full of unlikely scenarios, protagonists, and conclusions, but I think the shepherds stand out as the most unique early recipients of God’s Good News. Their example as the marginalized and lowly ones in Israel is not to be questioned; it is the fact that God chose once again to shift the narrative in favor of the humble and unexpected.

Kelly Nikondeha, author of The First Advent in Palestine, writes,

“The story of the first advent, according to Luke’s telling, is the story of God pushing boundaries of respectability in pursuit of another kind of peace . . . He reaches deep into the social fray, stretching all the way to a band of shepherds. The whole of society is embraced by Emmanuel—God with all of us, right down to the lowliest shepherd!” (p.87)

We all know the depictions of Bethlehemite shepherds by their hard-working smell, low social status, and keen attention to their flocks. Modern sermons and commentaries might equate them with today’s manual laborers or migrant farmers (“nearly unseen and certainly under-appreciated, yet absolutely essential to the economy,” Nikondeha writes. p. 89). But what Nikondeha wants us to remember is that it’s not only about who God sent His Son for, but also about who acknowledged Him when a choir of bright and loud angels said, “go!”

Jesus could have been conceived into a wealthy family, born amidst the royals in Jerusalem, but one of the biggest reasons He wasn’t, was for people like the shepherds. The Messiah came low in order to show the humble path to salvation. And He came low in order to be received by the lowly—in a manner they understood and were curious about. Imagine if the angels had only said,  

“Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. . . Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!
(Luke 2:10b-11,14)

What if they left out the part about Jesus' swaddling clothes and manger bed, I’m not sure the shepherds would have wanted to go. They would have known that no fancy family would receive messy field-dwellers and their whole meandering flock into the birthing room of a baby savior. But maybe they could go see what was going on with a new baby born amidst animals like their beloved sheep.

Nikondeha reflects on this idea early in her book:
“How Jesus entered the world matters. Where and when God chose to come into the world carries significance.” (p.5)

So far, the message of the Messiah’s identity had reached a priest and his wife, a peasant girl and her carpenter fiancée. Now, the angels made sure the shepherds heard the Good News as well. This showed how far-reaching this new salvation would be—not just for the religious leaders, not just for the righteous and devout, not just about their homes, livelihoods and land. Including the shepherds in the narrative shows us that the Messiah’s peace can permeate the very edges of the economy and those most likely to be exploited. One of Bethlehem’s chief commodities were the very lambs and sheep the shepherds cared for. And now, forevermore, we place them and their caretakers next to figures of Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus, asleep on the hay. A radical intersection indeed.