This is the monologue that I wrote and then gave tonight at our Christmas Eve service at our church. I thought I would share it with you. I hope you are blessed by it.
Can you believe that? Almost being fired for delivering news we have all waited for for centuries. I mean, who else should be more excited than me about this, but them? I thought that was why my great grandfather, by grandfather, my father, and I have worked as shepherds for the temple.
My father taught me it was an honor to watch over the sheep that produce lambs for temple sacrifice. We have always taken great pride in ensuring the animals are without any blemish because we want only the best to be offered to Yahweh. The Torah commands it. We obey. That’s what the priests teach us and repeat to us almost every time we bring them the lambs.
“We can’t afford to offer anything with any hint of sickness, deformity, or blemish,” they say. “It’s your job to ensure that,” they drill into us.
And we do! I can’t remember a single time I had to be reprimanded for bringing in a bad lamb or goat.
I learned from my father and grandfather what to do. And I was determined to do it even better. I was going to be known for the quality of my work. I would watch each ewe carefully for when they showed signs of being ready to deliver. I would bring them to Migdal Eder, our watchtower for the flock just outside Bethlehem, when they got near their time for delivery so I could watch them closely. As soon as the lamb was born, I would grab it, wrap, and swaddle it so neither the mother could accidently kick or step on it nor the lamb somehow injure itself. The swaddling cloths would cause the lamb to calm. After it calmed down, I would place it in the stone manger and examine every square inch of its body to ensure it was a lamb worthy of temple sacrifice: free from any blemish or malady. I had to watch all the lambs born for an entire year to ensure they fed properly, didn’t become too rambunctious, or do anything that could potentially harm or mar them in any way. Even if I do say so myself, that’s a lot of hard work. And I take great pride in it. Doing otherwise yielded harsh consequences.
Oh, I saw how these “benevolent” priests could get so riled when things didn’t go their way. I was determined not to go through their scolding. They can be brutal. After all, wasn’t it only a couple months ago they were commending me on the quality of sheep they got from me for Passover? Now, today, they tell me I must be drunk because I saw hallucinations, and if I don’t stop spreading these false rumors, they will not only fire me but excommunicate me. And maybe even my entire family from the temple! I can’t bring such a disgrace to my family.
But I can’t deny what happened and what I saw either.
There we all were, sitting around the campfire as the sheep had finally settled down. All of a sudden, the dark, night sky burst into glorious light. It was a light almost like that of the sun, but different somehow. I was able to look at it. The light began to move, and I realized it wasn’t light after all, but an angel! I didn’t know what was happening and wanted to run, but my feet wouldn’t move. I was terrified, I tell you. But the angel spoke. Such a calming tone yet commanding somehow.
“Don’t be afraid,” the angel said. “I bring you good news of great joy which is for all people. Born to you, even today, in the City of David is a Savior, the Christ, the Messiah you have been waiting for. Here is a sign for you: you will find him as a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths, lying in the manger.”
Then, suddenly, the night sky exploded with light. Many, many angels seemed to be everywhere around us! Each shining like a glorious star—and singing. I can still hear them:
“Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace, good will toward men.”
We all were stunned, standing there looking into the sky with mouths partially open. I don’t know how long it lasted. It seemed like an eternity and like a split second at the same time. Then, just as suddenly as they appeared, they vanished.
The darkness enveloped us once again.
We all just stared at each other for several seconds.
Benjamin broke the silence and said, “What just happened?”
“A miracle,” Elimelech added.
I then chimed in, “Let’s go see.”
“See what?” Benjamin asked. Benjamin has always been a little slow on the uptake, granted, but I just couldn’t believe him.
“See what? The baby, the Messiah, of course.”
“Let’s do it,” Eldad replied, “but where?”
Maybe they were still too stunned, but I know they heard the same words as I did.
“Why, Midgal Eder, of course. Where else has a manger we know about?”
So, we left Simon and Jesse with the sheep as the rest of us headed to the watchtower.
As we approached Migdal Eder, we saw a small fire going, so we knew someone was using the watchtower. The timing for birthing of the lambs was practically over so we only had some supplies and a few animals there at the time. When we poked our heads in, a woman and man looked at us, at first startled, but the mother then smiled at us—almost like she knew we would be coming. She was somewhat rocking the baby as it lay in the stone manger; she waved for us to come closer.
The man spoke first. “I am Joseph. This is my wife, Mary. And this . . .”
Mary picked up the infant so I could see his face, “is our son.”
I think I gasped. It was such a special moment.
Now any baby is cute, but this one—well, he was different. His eyes were so mesmerizing. Looking into his eyes was like looking into eternity. I can’t really explain it, but I just knew he was special—he was the One Israel had been waiting for. With eyes like that, yes, he was the One.
“What is his name?” I asked.
The mother smiled and said, “Jesus.”
I grinned. “The Lord Saves.”
Mary nodded. “He will save his people from their sins.”
My eyes began to water. “My name is Joshua,” I said.
Mary smiled again. “Then you both have something in common already. Your names are similar to each other,” she said as she placed her son back in the manger.
I nodded again—overcome with emotion.
I looked down at the infant in the stone manger, and I gasped again. He looked just like a newborn lamb I would wrap in swaddling cloths inspecting it for blemishes to ensure it would be suitable for sacrifice. It hit me like a ton of bricks. This is the One who would save his people from their sins. Sin requires sacrifice. This meant he would, somehow, become the sacrifice for Israel. How he would do that I had no idea but knew he would. This One had come to be born to die.
My eyes watered again, and I looked at Mary who seemed to know what I was thinking. She gave a slight nod as her eyes watered as well.
It then struck me what Joseph had said. “If you are married, how can you be the virgin to give birth to our promised Messiah as prophesied by the great prophet Isaiah?”
Mary touched my shoulder and looked into my eyes. “I assure you; the Holy Spirit has conceived this child. Joseph and I have not yet been together.”
When I looked at Joseph, he nodded. “I took her as my wife to protect her.”
I nodded as I knew immediately what he meant. Knowing the wrath the priests could bring upon someone, I knew he had likely saved her from being stoned to death. But I just knew the high priest would welcome this one with open arms. After all, this baby was fulfilling prophecy, several in fact, and the Sanhedrin certainly believed in prophecy, or so I thought.
I told Joseph and Mary all that had happened: about the angel and what he said, about the angels singing, and the bright star I had noticed.
“Oh,” she said, “I don’t think many even look up to notice the star. How did you notice it?”
I laughed. “A shepherd has two things to do,” I said. “Tend sheep during the day and look at the stars at night. And I’m certainly not going to count sheep at night to go to sleep. I spend all day counting sheep. I’d rather just look at the stars until I fall asleep.”
Both Mary and Joseph thought that a little funny.
We stayed a little longer and then left the couple there with their infant so they could have privacy and get some sleep themselves.
I had a hard time sleeping that night, though. What would the priests say? Would we still have a job if the true sacrifice was already with us?
But I learned something. Greed trumps prophecy. I overhead some of the priests say that if the people heard what I had just told them, then they may stop buying sheep for sacrifice. They definitely didn’t want that to happen. Then, as I said earlier, they threatened me to remain silent. I eventually told them what they wanted to hear: I would not spread false rumors.
But what I saw and heard was not false. No! It was truth!
Truth is something to be shared. And that is what I will do! I will share the truth because it is the truth that will set one free. So, I will go and spread truth. After what you’ve heard from me, I hope you will do the same. Until we meet again. Shalom.
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Visit Books & Words to Inspire by Randy C. Dockens
