'And there were in the same country shepherds abiding
in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.
9. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and
the glory of the Lord shone round about them; and they
were sore afraid. 10. And the angel said unto them,
Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of
great joy, which shall be to all people. 11. For unto
you is born this day, in the city of David, a Saviour,
which is Christ the Lord. 12. And this shall be a sign
unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling
clothes, lying in a manger. 13. And suddenly there was
with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising
God, and saying, 14. Glory to God in the highest, and
on earth peace, good will toward men. 15. And it came
to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into
heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us now
go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is
come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us.
16. And they came with haste, and found Mary and
Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger. 17. And when
they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying
which was told them concerning this child. 18. And all
they that heard it wondered at those things which were
told them by the shepherds. 19. But Mary kept all
these things, and pondered them in her heart. 20. And
the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God
for all the things that they had heard and seen, as it
was told unto them.'--LUKE ii. 8-20.
The central portion of this passage is, of course, the angels'
message and song, the former of which proclaims the transcendent
fact of the Incarnation, and the latter hymns its blessed results.
But, subsidiary to these, the silent vision which preceded them and
the visit to Bethlehem which followed are to be noted. Taken
together, they cast varying gleams on the great fact of the birth of
Jesus Christ.
Why should there be a miraculous announcement at all, and why should
it be to these shepherds? It seems to have had no effect beyond a
narrow circle and for a time. It was apparently utterly forgotten
when, thirty years after, the carpenter's Son began His ministry.
Could such an event have passed from memory, and left no ripple on
the surface? Does not the resultlessness cast suspicion on the
truthfulness of the narrative? Not if we duly give weight to the few
who knew of the wonder; to the length of time that elapsed, during
which the shepherds and their auditors probably died; to their
humble position, and to the short remembrance of extraordinary
events which have no immediate consequences. Joseph and Mary were
strangers in Bethlehem. Christ never visited it, so far as we know.
The fading of the impression cannot be called strange, for it
accords with natural tendencies; but the record of so great an
event, which was entirely ineffectual as regards future acceptance
of Christ's claims, is so unlike legend that it vouches for the
truth of the narrative. An apparent stumbling-block is left, because
the story is true.
Why then, the announcement at all, since it was of so little use?
Because it was of some; but still more, because it was fitting that
such angel voices should attend such an event, whether men gave heed
to them or not; and because, recorded, their song has helped a world
to understand the nature and meaning of that birth. The glory died
off the hillside quickly, and the music of the song scarcely
lingered longer in the ears of its first hearers; but its notes echo
still in all lands, and every generation turns to them with wonder
and hope.
The selection of two or three peasants as receivers of the message,
the time at which it was given, and the place, are all significant.
It was no unmeaning fact that the 'glory of the Lord' shone lambent
round the shepherds, and held them and the angel standing beside
them in its circle of light. No longer within the secret shrine, but
out in the open field, the symbol of the Divine Presence glowed
through the darkness; for that birth hallowed common life, and
brought the glory of God into familiar intercourse with its
secularities and smallnesses. The appearance to these humble men as
they 'sat simply chatting in a rustic row 'symbolised the
destination of the Gospel for all ranks and classes.
The angel speaks by the side of the shepherds, not from above. His
gentle encouragement 'Fear not!' not only soothes their present
terror, but has a wider meaning. The dread of the Unseen, which lies
coiled like a sleeping snake in all hearts, is utterly taken away by
the Incarnation. All messages from that realm are thenceforward
'tidings of great joy,' and love and desire may pass into it, as all
men shall one day pass, and both enterings may be peaceful and
confident. Nothing harmful can come out of the darkness, from which
Jesus has come, into which He has passed, and which He fills.
The great announcement, the mightiest, most wonderful word that had
ever passed angels' immortal lips, is characterised as 'great joy'
to 'all the people,' in which designation two things are to be
noted--the nature and the limitation of the message. In how many
ways the Incarnation was to be the fountain of purest gladness was
but little discerned, either by the heavenly messenger or the
shepherds. The ages since have been partially learning it, but not
till the 'glorified joy' of heaven swells redeemed hearts will all
its sorrow-dispelling power be experimentally known. Base joys may
be basely sought, but His creatures' gladness is dear to God, and if
sought in God's way, is a worthy object of their efforts.
The world-wide sweep of the Incarnation does not appear here, but
only its first destination for Israel. This is manifest in the
phrase 'all the people,' in the mention of 'the city of David' and
in the emphatic 'you,' in contradistinction both from the messenger,
who announced what he did not share, and Gentiles, to whom the
blessing was not to pass till Israel had determined its attitude to
it.
The titles of the Infant tell something of the wonder of the birth,
but do not unfold its overwhelming mystery. Magnificent as they are,
they fall far short of 'The Word was made flesh.' They keep within
the circle of Jewish expectation, and announce that the hopes of
centuries are fulfilled. There is something very grand in the
accumulation of titles, each greater than the preceding, and all
culminating in that final 'Lord.' Handel has gloriously given the
spirit of it in the crash of triumph with which that last word is
pealed out in his oratorio. 'Saviour' means far more than the
shepherds knew; for it declares the Child to be the deliverer from
all evil, both of sin and sorrow, and the endower with all good,
both of righteousness and blessedness. The 'Christ' claims that He
is the fulfiller of prophecy, perfectly endowed by divine anointing
for His office of prophet, priest, and king--the consummate flower
of ancient revelation, greater than Moses the law-giver, than
Solomon the king, than Jonah the prophet. 'The Lord' is scarcely to
be taken as the ascription of divinity, but rather as a prophecy of
authority and dominion, implying reverence, but not unveiling the
deepest secret of the entrance of the divine Son into humanity. That
remained unrevealed, for the time was not yet ripe.
There would be few children of a day old in a little place like
Bethlehem, and none but one lying in a manger. The fact of the
birth, which could be verified by sight, would confirm the message
in its outward aspect, and thereby lead to belief in the angel's
disclosure of its inward character. The 'sign' attested the veracity
of the messenger, and therefore the truth of all his word--both of
that part of it capable of verification by sight and that part
apprehensible by faith.
No wonder that the sudden light and music of the multitude of the
heavenly host' flashed and echoed round the group on the hillside.
The true picture is not given when we think of that angel choir as
floating in heaven. They stood in their serried ranks round the
shepherds and their fellows on the solid earth, and 'the night was
filled with music,' not from overhead, but from every side. Crowding
forms became all at once visible within the encircling 'glory,' on
every face wondering gladness and eager sympathy with men, from
every lip praise. Angels can speak with the tongues of men when
their theme is their Lord become man, and their auditors are men.
They hymn the blessed results of that birth, the mystery of which
they knew more completely than they were yet allowed to tell.
As was natural for them, their praise is first evoked by the result
of the Incarnation in the highest heavens. It will bring 'glory to
God' there; for by it new aspects of His nature are revealed to
those clear-eyed and immortal spirits who for unnumbered ages have
known His power, His holiness, His benignity to unfallen creatures,
but now experience the wonder which more properly belongs to more
limited intelligences, when they behold that depth of condescending
Love stooping to be born. Even they think more loftily of God, and
more of man's possibilities and worth, when they cluster round the
manger, and see who lies there.
'On earth peace.' The song drops from the contemplation of the
heavenly consequences to celebrate the results on earth, and gathers
them all into one pregnant word, 'Peace.' What a scene of strife,
discord, and unrest earth must seem to those calm spirits! And how
vain and petty the struggles must look, like the bustle of an ant-hill!
Christ's work is to bring peace into all human relations, those with
God, with men, with circumstances, and to calm the discords of souls
at war with themselves. Every one of these relations is marred by sin,
and nothing less thorough than a power which removes it can rectify
them. That birth was the coming into humanity of Him who brings peace
with God, with ourselves, with one another. Shame on Christendom that
nineteen centuries have passed, and men yet think the cessation of
war is only a 'pious imagination'! The ringing music of that angel
chant has died away, but its promise abides.
The symmetry of the song is best preserved, as I humbly venture to
think, by the old reading as in the Authorised Version. The other,
represented by the Revised Version, seems to make the second clause
drag somewhat, with two designations of the region of peace. The
Incarnation brings God's 'good will' to dwell among men. In Christ,
God is well pleased; and from Him incarnate, streams of divine
complacent love pour out to freshen and fertilise the earth.
The disappearance of the heavenly choristers does not seem to have
been so sudden as their appearance. They 'went away from them into
heaven,' as if leisurely, and so that their ascending brightness was
long visible as they rose, and attestation was thereby given to the
reality of the vision. The sleeping village was close by, and as
soon as the last gleam of the departing light had faded in the
depths of heaven, the shepherds went 'with haste,' untimely as was
the hour. They would not have much difficulty in finding the inn and
the manger. Note that they do not tell their story till the sight
has confirmed the angel message. Their silence was not from doubt;
for they say, before they had seen the child, that 'this thing' is
'come to pass,' and are quite sure that the Lord has told it them.
But they wait for the evidence which shall assure others of their
truthfulness.
There are three attitudes of mind towards God's revelation set forth
in living examples in the closing verses of the passage. Note the
conduct of the shepherds, as a type of the natural impulse and
imperative duty of all possessors of God's truth. Such a story as
they had to tell would burn its way to utterance in the most
reticent and shyest. But have Christians a less wonderful message to
deliver, or a less needful one? If the spectators of the cradle
could not be silent, how impossible it ought to be for the witnesses
of the Cross to lock their lips!
The hearers of the story did what, alas! too many of us do with the
Gospel. 'They wondered,' and stopped there. A feeble ripple of
astonishment ruffled the surface of their souls for a moment; but
like the streaks on the sea made by a catspaw of wind, it soon died
out, and the depths were unaffected by it.
The antithesis to this barren wonder is the beautiful picture of the
Virgin's demeanour. She 'kept all these sayings, and pondered them
in her heart.' What deep thoughts the mother of the Lord had, were
hers alone. But we have the same duty to the truth, and it will
never disclose its inmost sweetness to us, nor take so sovereign a
grip of our very selves as to mould our lives, unless we too
treasure it in our hearts, and by patient brooding on it understand
its hidden harmonies, and spread our souls out to receive its
transforming power. A non-meditative religion is a shallow religion.
But if we hide His word in our hearts, and often in secret draw out
our treasure to count and weigh it, we shall be able to speak out of
a full heart, and like these shepherds, to rejoice that we have seen
even as it was spoken unto us.