The Shepherd King

Shepherds and kings – an interesting title for the Savior of the Nations. Shepherds are marginal folks, they are poor, homeless, and illiterate. We may wonder – are these the kind of folks we want watching our flocks by night? Does this image inspire confidence in us? Jesus, a shepherd. How strange to me.

The role of a King is masculine, powerful, authoritative, clever, and confident. A King is trusted, honored and revered. Isn’t it the king who protects its people, makes the difficult decisions, and keeps the store-rooms full of food and the Kingdom safe from foreigners, conquerors, and evil empires? Isn’t this the kind of Jesus we would want? When you think of Jesus is he a shepherd? A King?

The shepherd king – a different title. If Jesus were not a king would the wise-men from the East come to visit the baby in Bethlehem stall. Yet Jesus was marginal, simple, and poor. Could it be that Jesus is both – the one crown King of Kings and Lord of Lord and the Passover Lamb – the one who watches over the sheep, guiding and cajoling, caring and watching, protecting and showing them greener pastures and cleaner water? Could this baby, born in a stable be the Shepherd King? Could it be? How then shall I receive him?

Christmas is upon us and the question, what shall I give to the Shepherd King is part of the Christians struggle in this season of Advent. As I babble on about Shepherds and Kings, the Advent candles are lit and the Christ candle remains, unlit, untouched by human hands. Tonight under the cover of darkness the Shepherd King arrives and the world receives God's finest and greatest gift of all. How will we receive the Shepherd King? What gift do we bring? The world in solemn stillness lay to hear the angels sing. What song do we hear? The song of the Shepherd King.

The hopes and Fears of all the Years

"The hopes and fears of the all the years are met in thee tonight."

We live our lives in conflict. We hope for a better tomorrow, but fear the long night. So many look toward heaven and life eternal, but we fear the act of dying. We want to love the people we meet, but have been hurt by so many. Like the lovers who hope to spend the rest of their lives together, but fear the first fight. We wonder how to speak words without being misunderstood. We hope for that special package, but wonder how we’ll feel if we don’t receive it. The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight. That’s how the carol goes – the one that reminds us of life’s contradictions – the kind we live each day. Will there be room in the inn for us? What about the life we are living – where will it lead us? Will we find a crowded inn or a spacious stable? What do we expect in this life? Who am I? Who are we?

“For lo, the days are hast’ning on, by prophets seen of old. When with the ever encircling years shall come the time foretold. When the new heav’n and earth shall own the Prince of Peace their King, and the whole world send back the song which now the angels sing.”

What song do they sing? Perhaps, perhaps it is an answer to our hopes and fears of all the years – the one the prophets foretold. I babble on about hopes and fears, but am mindful that I'm not alone. Take pause in knowing the world is still this night that we might witness what the prophets of old foretold. The midnight miracle will reveal to us what the prophets knew and today -- like every Christmas we embrace as our story too. At midnight comes the bounteous light which caused the angels to sing, the shepherds to hurry to the stable of the King, and the wise-men of old came with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.

Christmas Dreaming

“Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

the stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;

And mamma in ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,

Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap…”

We can imagine their dreams when they settled down for a long winter’s nap. I wonder what kind of Christmas dreaming, Jesus did? I wonder if he dreamed about a warm blanket to replace his swaddling clothes. I wonder if he dreamed of a bed with mattress springs and memory foam to replace his bed of straw. I wonder if he dreamed of an airtight home of dry mud and stone to replace his drafty stable. I wonder if he dreamed of a time he could build wagons rather than chariots, cabinets rather than crosses. I wonder what kind of Christmas dreaming, Jesus did while he shivered in the cold.

And so I babble on about the dreams we may have and believe the dreams of Jesus might be very different -- something we haven't thought about. Christmas dreaming -- as the "sugar-plums" dance on your head, may the dream of the Savior be born in your heart today.

Star Light, Star Bright

‘In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.'

I remember as a child – star light, star bright! First star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might get this wish, I wish tonight. At this time of year, I wonder what wish we’ll make on the first star we see tonight. Perhaps we’ll wish for that winning lottery ticket stuffed in our stocking from Sister Michelle. I wish that I might make it through the family meal without fighting with Uncle Fred about the current state of the world. Will we wish for plenty of chocolate candy, rich and tasty egg nog, lots of presents that we’ve been waiting for all year long? Will we wish for good health, safe travels, or a stress-free year?

A voice cries in the wilderness and the wish list is very different than the wish I’ve made on that first bright shining star. It’s a cry to comfort my people – can we wish for an opportunity to comfort God’s people? The voice that cries in the wilderness cries for justice and peace – can we stop punishing criminals after they served their term? Has not their penalty been paid? The voice that cries in the wilderness sees a different world than the one we are living in. Could we be so courageous as to stand with the voice – the one crying in the wilderness for justice rather than the hateful way we treat others who are different than ourselves?

The star over the Bethlehem stable shines on a homeless child, a refugee in foreign land. As I babble on, I wonder if children still wish upon the "first star" they see in the night. If the children still wish, I wonder if they'll wish upon the Christmas star – the one that makes straight in the desert a highway for the coming child. What will your wish be this Christmas morning?