Throughout Advent, we’ve been “On the way to Bethlehem.” Today, we finally made it. We’ve arrived. We’re in Bethlehem, the city of David.
It’s not much of a city, really. It’s more of a town, or village. Not much bigger than Nazareth, at the time of Jesus’ birth.
But there is one important difference between Bethlehem and Nazareth: Bethlehem is the city of David…
David, the most revered king in Israel’s history. David, who united Israel and Judah. David, who is remembered as establishing justice and maintaining freedom.
So unlike Nazareth, Bethlehem had a historical and symbolic significance, even if it was just a little town.
And people had heard of Bethlehem. It was small, but it was not insignificant. It was… the city of David.
Today we hear the story of Christ’s birth as presented in Luke’s gospel. It takes place in Bethlehem, the city of David. It takes place when the Israelites long for a king like David.
Currently, they are under Roman rule. Their rights are limited. The fear and threat of Roman harassment is constant. And much of their income is taxed, and sent to Rome, for the maintenance of the empire.
You may recall that that’s what this whole census business is all about. Caesar wants to count all the people—and all the livestock, too—to know who and what he could tax, how much money he could extract. He wanted every last coin.
The Roman government is not “of the people, by the people, for the people.” The Roman government is all about using the people, and taking from them as much wealth as possible, for the sake of those at the top of the pyramid: the powerful and the wealthy.
Everyone else suffered the oppression of living in an Empire that only answered to those at the top.
Which is why the people long for a new king like David. It’s why they maintain hope that God will send a messiah, in the line of David, to restore their nation and bring peace—true peace, a peace without fear or intimidation.
And it’s why, according to Luke, Jesus was born in Bethlehem, the city of David.
If this were a movie, and Luke the director, the camera would start with a view of the room or stable, dimly lit, with Mary and Joseph and the animals; and then the camera would slowly zoom in, until all we see is the manger, with the baby Jesus lying there, wrapped in bands of cloth.
But then the camera would zoom back out. We’d see the whole room, and then the exterior of the building. (Some think the manger was in a cave, but I think it was a room used for animals on the side of a house or across the courtyard from the house.)
The camera would zoom back further still, until we see the neighboring buildings, and then the whole village, dimly lit by a few lamps scattered about, beneath a starry sky.
Then the camera would begin zooming in again, but not on the village. The camera is now bringing us closer to something in the darkness outside the village, something we can’t quite see.
It looks like we’re heading into the countryside out beyond the town’s edge. It’s very hard to make out what’s there, in the darkness, but finally, we’re able to discern shadowy figures. Shepherds! They’re murmuring, whispering; and a few soft, “baas” let us know that their sheep are nearby.
The shepherds are grateful for the darkness. And the quiet. It gives them cover, and helps them avoid harassment.
Shepherds often face harassment, or worse, because they don’t have land of their own. They take their sheep, and wander over land owned by others, moving from place to place, searching for good pasture for their flocks.
The landowners resent this. They often chase the shepherds off their land, or they summon Roman soldiers to chase the shepherds off their land…
They do this, even though shepherds are what we would call “essential workers.” Even the landowners who despise the shepherds rely on them. They rely on the shepherds for sheep, for wool, for food…for so many things they need.
But just because they depend on the shepherds doesn’t mean they respect the shepherds, or that they offer them any dignity or respect. The shepherds are looked down upon. Despised. And poorly treated.
So the shepherds like the night. They like the darkness. And, they like the quiet. It all helps them remain unnoticed, and if they can avoid notice, maybe they can avoid harassment.
But tonight… tonight, the quiet murmuring of this group of shepherds is interrupted. As this group of shepherds, just outside of Bethlehem, keeps watch over their silent flocks, at night, in the dark… suddenly, throughout the heavens, there shines a holy light. And an angel chorus rings out: a multitude of the heavenly host, singing: “Glory to God in the highest!”
Which means that, all of a sudden, there is a lot of noise, and a lot of light! Which leaves the shepherds afraid and terrified. Afraid of attracting the unwanted attention of landowners and soldiers and others who might want to harass them… but even more afraid of this awesome spectacle before them; this supernatural display of light and sound and glory and power!
But the angel—the first one they see—says to them: “Do not be afraid… Do not be afraid! for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.
“This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.”
And before they leave, the angels also proclaim a message of “peace on earth; peace to those on whom God’s favor rests.”
And the shepherds know that the peace the angels talk about is real peace, not the uneasy peace of Rome. Even with the peace of Rome, one is always afraid of hearing the sound of soldiers’ footsteps, heading your way. You’d hear a sound in the night, and wake with a start, your heart racing, until you were sure that it was just an animal, and not soldiers marching.
But this peace, the peace the angels are talking about—this is real peace; and this is good news.
It means no more fearing the sounds at night. It means no more harassment during the day. It’s a peace that allows you to sleep undisturbed at night and laugh with joy during the day.
That peace washes over the shepherds. That peace washes over them when the angels appear and proclaim their message, and that peace fills them when they go and see the newborn baby with their own eyes; when they see him, wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger, just as the angels said.
And when they return to their sheep, they rejoice, and they praise and glorify God as they go. They’re not so worried about being quiet and hidden in the shadows now.
Yes, the soldiers are still out there, and yes, the soldiers still have the power to harass them, but now the shepherds know that God is on their side, that God is on the side of all those who are oppressed, despised, looked down upon; God is on the side of all those who have been abused, forgotten, or exploited; God is on the side of all those who grieve or who are in despair.
As the prophet wrote: “There is no gloom for those who were in anguish. The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness—on them light has shined.”
We are not afraid of the light. And we’re not afraid of the dark, either. Because God is on our side.
When we are faithful, when we live according to what Jesus taught…
When we proclaim good news to the poor, release to the captives, sight to the blind, freedom to the oppressed…
When we love all people, without exception…when we refuse to commit acts of violence, or speak words of violence…
When we give food to those who are hungry, and water to those who are thirsty; when we welcome strangers; when we clothe the naked, care for the sick, and visit those in need of companionship…
Basically, when we love and care for all those who are vulnerable in our world, just as Jesus was vulnerable when he was born to Mary and Joseph…
Then we need not fear, for God is on our side, and we are on God’s side.
We will not fear, though the earth should change, though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea; though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble with its tumult…
We will not fear.
When the nations are in an uproar, and kingdoms totter…
We will not fear
For God is with us. God is with the vulnerable. God is with those who are poor. God is with those who mourn. God is with the meek. God is with those who hunger and thirst for what is right. God is with those who show mercy. God is with those who are pure in heart. God is with those who work on behalf of peace in this world.
God is with those who fear the darkness, or who fear the light, or who fear armies and empires.
And this, we know, because God came to earth not with the power to oppress or cause harm, but with all the vulnerability and weakness and innocence of a newborn child.
If we weren’t so familiar with this story, it would blow our minds. A baby, weak and vulnerable and defenseless, is God’s secret weapon, God’s secret power.
Because in God’s kingdom, power is found in weakness. Greatness is found in humility. And the strength to overcome is found in love.
Nothing in this world is greater, or more powerful, than love. Nothing outlasts love.
Love is with us. Always has been. Always will be.
And that is why we light our candles at this darkest time of year, and why we sing angel choruses on silent nights:
Because in this world of darkness, there is light. And in this world of sadness, there is joy. In this world of ugliness, there is beauty. In this world of hate, there is love.
And it’s all because of Jesus, the savior, who is the messiah, born this day in the city of David.
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