I’m not particularly religious, but I've spent a number of years studying various religions and the King James Bible as literature.
Luke records the miracle of the birth of the Baby and includes the account of the shepherds. You know the story – the long trek to Bethlehem to be taxed, the no-room-in-the-inn scenario, the cave and the manger, the angels and the shepherds.
Luke records the miracle of the birth of the Baby and includes the account of the shepherds. You know the story – the long trek to Bethlehem to be taxed, the no-room-in-the-inn scenario, the cave and the manger, the angels and the shepherds.
Because angels with wings and holy seraphim seem more metaphoric than literal to me, I always found what those shepherds did after visiting the manger more interesting than their actually getting there.
Ah, those shepherds! How I loved the them.
Ah, those shepherds! How I loved the them.
Since the concept of a shepherd and his or her flock has universal application, I was intrigued by what the shepherds did afterwards.
They returned to their flocks, Luke says.
And although they told the glorious news and sang praises for God’s gift, they returned to their flocks.
Interesting.
They didn’t rush out and build a holy tabernacle. They didn’t write up the story and publish it in the Bethlehem Daily Journal. Nor did they try to sell their sheep and get a higher fee for them because they’d actually witnessed the babe in the manger.
Instead the shepherds returned to their flocks.
Interesting.
They didn’t rush out and build a holy tabernacle. They didn’t write up the story and publish it in the Bethlehem Daily Journal. Nor did they try to sell their sheep and get a higher fee for them because they’d actually witnessed the babe in the manger.
Instead the shepherds returned to their flocks.
They went about the daily business of herding sheep. Sheep are rather dim-witted creatures. They need a shepherd to tend them, guide them, watch over them.
Let me extend the analogy.
If we’re all shepherds like those ancient commoners, what or who represents our “flocks”?
That’s fairly simple.
Teachers teach students.
If we’re all shepherds like those ancient commoners, what or who represents our “flocks”?
That’s fairly simple.
Teachers teach students.
Parents parent children, and often pets.
Writers write books.
Presidents preside over governments.
Grandparents – ah yes, they simply spoil those same children or pets.
Readers read books.
And so it goes.
I've been to the Grotto at Bethlehem, an unassuming sight, but I’m not particularly concerned whether the shepherds visited a real hillside cave and found a new-born child two thousand years ago, or whether it’s a beautiful metaphor.
What I care about is the message.
The shepherds returned to their flocks.
Thinking about those shepherds gives me new resolve to return to my “flock,” whether it’s my family, my career, my church, my hobbies. Or in my case at this juncture in my life – dedication to my writing.
We’re about to herald a new year – a whole new decade! How cool is that? The thought of an entire decade stretching out before me unblemished by my stupid mistakes is really intriguing. I want to rush out and write something on those pristine years! I want to slough off the old and begin anew!
What about you, readers? What would you like to focus your energies on? What would you like to rededicate yourself to? If you are the shepherd in your life, what’s the “flock” you’re returning to? What commitments will you make, what renewed purpose?
No comments:
Post a Comment