Yes, hello, this is Schlomo Ben Israel, may I please speak to Mr. Goldfarb? (…) Hello, Mr. Goldfarb, ahem, this is, ah, Schlomo…the shepherd? [Holds phone away from ear, waits for shouting to subside] .

Yes, sir, I know you’ve been waiting to talk with me. No, I don’t usually run off and leave the sheep alone in the fields by night. What’s that? Yes sir, I know that’s the minimum-competency standard for shepherds – not leaving the sheep. I can see why you’d be mad, sir.

But you see, Mr. Goldfarb, that’s why I’m calling: this was a very unusual night! It all started with dusk, when the brilliant star appeared – a really bright and unusual star. What? Yes. Yes, I know I’m not some kind of wise astrologer. Although, this is the crazy thing, they end up being part of the story, too – kind of funny! No, sir, I know you don’t think any of this is funny. But this star, O, Mr. Goldfarb, you just couldn’t miss seeing it! By midnight, when Bethlehem was asleep, it had got so bright that even our sheep were staring up at it. Oh. Yes, sir. I mean, your sheep. That’s what I meant to say.

Any way, as we shepherds and the – I mean, your sheep were staring up at the star, this brilliant, white light burst around us – it was the strangest light. It cast no shadows, like it was coming from inside everything around us – even from us. I don’t mind telling you, sir, we were sore afraid! (…) Sore afraid. I mean, you know, really scared! About that time a messenger from God, an angel, appeared in the sky above us, and told us not to be afraid, which I thought was you know, pretty thoughtful, and that he was bringing good news of great joy for everyone on earth.

Sir? No, we had not been drinking. Or, well, not any more than usual. Any way, this angel says to us that unto us, in David’s royal city, is born the Savior we’ve been waiting for, the Messiah, God’s promised one. No, sir, not a prophecy, a birth announcement! See, the angel told us we’d find the Savior wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger!

Swaddling clothes, sir. You know, I’m not entirely sure, either. I think it means diapers, because that’s what he was wearing. I know, we couldn’t believe it, either! Anyway, back to the field – after we heard about the swaddling, uh, things, some other angels showed up, and we figured that this might be a good time to leave, so we went and found the Messiah just as the angel had said, guided by the light along the way. We found him, sir, in a stable, with his mother and step-dad, who turn out to be Nazarenes. (I know: Nazareth! That what we said: what good comes out of there?) I tell you, it’s all we’ve been able to talk about since!

Yes, Mr. Goldfarb, that’s right. That’s what I’m saying: the King has been born among us. You have it straight! Yep. Born to peasant parents from Nazareth in a stable, and his birth announced to us shepherds by angels. [Holds phone away from ear again.] I’ve laughed about it too, sir. Just not that loud.

I see. Yes, no, I can see how you’d think that. I expect most people would agree with you: that we shepherds are worthless people, from nowhere, going nowhere, with no particular future ahead of us.

But you know, Mr. Goldfarb, before last night, I might just have agreed with you about that, too. I might have. But that was before I knew there was a God in heaven who’d risk everything to send his Messiah to us. And who’d give some worthless, good-for-nothing shepherds, like you said, the job of being the first witnesses to his birth. That’s some kind of God, eh, Mr. Goldfarb?

I know, I can’t believe it either. But I know it to be true, so I’m beginning to believe it, because I was there, sir! We’ve been glorifying God and spreading the Good News of our Savior ever since, and based on what I’ve seen, it’s seemed like really good news to some and like too much to believe to others. And I’m beginning to wonder if it always will be that way – that for people who have decided they have nothing to lose, people willing to bet their futures and their hopes on him, Jesus will be the best news they could ever have.

Yes, sir. I realize we lost some of your sheep. Sixty-one, exactly? Wow. That’s a lot. I am really sorry about that. Yes, I heard that mutton is up to 20 shekels a chop down at the market. Maybe one day, sir, you’ll find a better shepherd – a Shepherd who will risk everything so that not even one lamb will be lost. But sir, whoever that is, he’s just not me.

Yep, I kind of figured I’d never work in this town again. But actually I was kind of thinking of a new line of work, anyway. We have a lot of good news to spread, and shepherds just don’t spend much time around people. No, I don’t know exactly what it all means as yet, either. But I feel like the whole world has been made over, Mr. Goldfarb. Like lowly shepherds from Bethlehem and carpenters from Nazareth now have something to laugh about. Yes, I know you do not feel much like laughing. But who knows? Maybe God is so great, that one day, you will too.

So peace to you, Mr. Goldfarb! And on earth, peace to all those on whom God’s favor rests. Hmm? Oh, it’s just a blessing. Something I heard somebody say, one time. Well, goodbye, Mr. Goldfarb!

[Hangs up phone, walks away humming “Angels We Have Heard on High.]

Use with permission of the author: pastor@stmarksmethodist.com.