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Introduction to this post:
This is the third of this year’s weekly Advent posts. Those of you who have followed the blog for more than a year know that it is my annual practice to post a weekly story for the season of Advent about the incarnational birth of Jesus. My hope is that the stories have become a part of your Advent tradition as you remember and celebrate the Good News of the advent of our Lord and Savior.
This year’s posts are as follows:
Week #1 - November 27th: O Come, O Come, Emmanuel (Joseph’s Story)
Week #2 - December 4th: Away in a Manger (Achim’s Story)
This week – December 11th: Silent Night (Moshe’s Story)
December 18th: We Three Kings (Balthazar’s Story)
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I am a shepherd named Moshe. I have watched over sheep in these Bethlehem hills since I was a young boy. My father and grandfather were both shepherds as were their fathers and grandfathers – all the way back to the shepherd king himself, David. He knew these hills like the back of his hand, just like each of us has ever since.
There was a time during the captivity of our people in Babylon when my ancestors were not shepherding in these hills. But by the grace of Jehovah, He made the way for us to return many years ago.
There is nothing else I would rather be doing, and there is nowhere else I would rather be. Jehovah God has blessed me greatly. He is the greatest Shepherd of all! He has chosen us to be His people – His flock, if you will. He watches over us and cares for us. He provides for us and leads us where He wants us to go. He teaches us to know His voice. And He has given us His commands to protect us.
He has blessed me with a loving and beautiful wife. I will unashamedly admit that I do not deserve her. She is a gift from God. Her name is Ayda, which means “joy.” And there is no denying that she has brought joy into my life. One way is through the birth of our five children – three boys and two girls. I will probably spoil my daughters – at least that is what Ayda tells me – but I will teach my sons how to be good shepherds, just as my father taught me. As a matter of fact, my oldest son Shimon, who recently turned ten, is already a great help to me. Though he looks just like me, he has his mother’s quick wit and her gentle spirit.
Ayda gave birth to our youngest son just three nights ago! We named him Eliezer, which means “gift of God.” All of our children are a gift, but Ayda bore him with great difficulty. We were not sure he would survive, but by God’s grace He did. His precious life truly is a gift. Shimon and I were watching over the flock when my oldest daughter Hannah came running into the hills to tell us of his birth. It was a glorious night – filled with joy, excitement, and thanksgiving.
Excitement is palpable throughout our town. Not because Eliezer was born, but because our sleepy little town is filling up with visitors. The Roman emperor decreed that a census be taken, and everyone is required to return to their ancestral home. I am grateful I didn’t need to travel to get to my ancestral home – I already live here! And my family never scattered to other places, so Ayda and I were not expecting any guests for the census.
Honestly, with Ayda just giving birth, we were grateful that we weren’t expecting company. But many of our neighbors were anticipating and preparing for the arrival of extended family from other towns. There are many unfamiliar faces in town. Whoever thought a government census could bring this much excitement!
Last night, Shimon and I were back in the fields watching over our sheep. As usual, other shepherds were also on the hillside watching their flocks. It was a clear still night without a cloud in the sky. The sheep were contented, so it was a quiet night in the hills. And as we looked down on the town, it, too, was still.
Apparently, people were resting after a busy day of visiting and making preparations. Shimon was excitedly telling me how he and his younger brother Jacob were going to help me train up Eliezer to be a good shepherd. I swelled with pride as I listened, realizing what a fine young man my son was becoming.
Suddenly, our tranquility was interrupted by the appearance of what looked to be a man – but a man unlike any I have ever seen. He was surrounded by a blinding light. While I raised a hand to shield my eyes, I instinctively reached out to pull Shimon close to my side. I squinted at the other shepherds who were near. We all were trying to discern what was happening and what we should do.
Did this man mean us harm? Should we run? But we all knew we could not abandon our sheep! Who was this man and what did he want? I quickly realized the light was drawing me in. Instead of feeling threatened, the light seemed to embrace us. Don’t misunderstand – we were afraid! But at the same time, we were spellbound.
It seemed like an eternity before the man spoke. “Don’t be afraid! I bring you good news of great joy for everyone! The Savior – yes, the Messiah, the Lord – has been born tonight in Bethlehem, the city of David! And this is how you will recognize Him: you will find a baby lying in a manger, wrapped snugly in strips of cloth!”(1)
We were still trying to understand who this being was when, all of a sudden, the sky was filled with a heavenly host. As if in unison, we all fell to our knees in fear and shielded our eyes from the brilliance that radiated above us. At that point, we knew this was a host of angels – the army of heaven – who had come to bring us great news. The angelic host began praising God, saying:
“Glory to God in the highest heaven,
And peace on earth to all whom God favors!”(2)
As the angels proclaimed this news, time seemed to stop. Even the sheep surrounding us seemed to bow low. No one – and no thing – was capable of moving. We were overwhelmed by the sight and enraptured by the news. I have no idea how long the angelic host remained in our midst. But it was a sight and a sound that were forever imprinted on our memories.
Then, just as quickly as that host appeared, they were gone. For a few moments, our gaze remained fixed on the heavens. Gradually, we looked at one another and almost in unison said, “Come on, let’s go into Bethlehem! Let’s see this wonderful thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.”(3)
Then we did something that shepherds never do! We left our flocks unattended in the field. We didn’t stop to secure our sheep in the sheepfold. We didn’t hesitate for one moment. We ran into town to the stable where the angels had directed us.
I realized the stable belonged to the carpenter Achim. It was a cave carved out of rock in the side of the hill. As we approached, we expected to find a large crowd gathered to worship the arrival of the newborn Messiah. We thought the religious leaders would be gathered to give praise to God – and perhaps even King Herod himself would be there. This was a great night of rejoicing for our entire nation in celebration and worship. Glory to God in the highest!
But we were dumbfounded when we arrived at the stable and no one was there. Not even Achim and his family were gathered. Only the baby’s mother and father – and a few animals – gathered around the baby wrapped in strips of cloth laid in a feeding trough. Surely this wasn’t the place! Surely this wasn’t the baby! And yet, we knew it was! Where was everyone? Why weren’t the streets filled with celebration? Why were we seemingly the only ones who knew Who this was
As we entered the stable, we startled the man and woman. I am sure they wondered why these men were invading their private moment with their newborn. The baby’s mother wasn’t much older than Ayda when she and I married. Neither she nor the man, who appeared much older but we assumed was her husband, spoke one word to refuse us entry. It was as if they were expecting our arrival.
Shimon was the first to step toward the baby to get a better view. He looked up at the baby’s mother for permission, and she smiled and nodded her head. The baby’s father did the same. As I gazed at these parents, I realized their expressions were the same Ayda and I had just three nights earlier when Eliezer was born. I don’t think we would have been as welcoming to strangers, but this couple was inviting us to join them in this very personal moment of love, thanksgiving, and blessing.
Yet, the other shepherds and I sensed there was something more. We were entering into an atmosphere of worship and adoration in that stable. Even the animals seemed to sense it. We told the couple about the angelic host. We told them what had been said and why we had come. Neither responded. Instead, the mother gave us a tender smile and, with a knowing look, nodded her head. Immediately, each of us fell to our knees and worshipped the baby lying in the manger.
Again, time seemed to stand still. None of us wanted this moment to end. Our hearts were so full we couldn’t utter a word. And the reality of all we had heard and were now seeing became clear. The Messiah that the Lord God Jehovah had promised through the prophets of old had now come. The message of His arrival had been delivered to us – a group of shepherds on a hillside.
The Messiah, whom generations had anticipated, was now lying there before us in an animal’s feeding trough. God had made the announcement through His angels to us! He hadn’t made it to the religious leaders or the king, He had made it to us! He had entrusted the good news of the angelic message to a group of shepherds!
I looked at the baby’s mother and realized she was tired. She needed her rest. Quietly, we stood to our feet and reverently backed out of the stable. Shimon was the last to get up. I could see that he was staring into the baby’s eyes. As I looked closer, I saw that the little boy’s eyes were dark brown, just like Shimon’s.
But His eyes had a unique quality, particularly for an infant. His eyes were inviting and gentle. They welcomed you in and made you feel safe. But they also seemed to look into your very soul. Even though newborns are not able to focus, this one appeared to do just that! Shimon remained there, seemingly locked in a gaze with the baby. After a few moments, I softly called to Shimon to join me.
We had a lively discussion about what we had seen, heard, and experienced as we made our way back to the fields. Our conversation was so animated that a few passersby stopped to ask what was happening. We explained what we had seen and what the angel had told us.
Though they seemed amazed by our report, none was interested enough to seek out the newborn baby. Maybe the thought of angels announcing the arrival of the Messiah to a group of shepherds was just too hard for them to believe. But we knew the truth, and it would remain in our hearts forever!
This morning, my son ran to the stable to check on the baby and his parents. But no one was there. We hadn’t thought to ask the family’s names or where they were from. They had probably come to Bethlehem for the census. And though Shimon asked some people nearby, no one knew that a family had even been there. All that remained in the stable was the manger where the baby had lain, the animals that had surrounded Him, and the memory of a holy moment.
Little did I know the impact that baby’s life would have in the days and years to come on me … my family … our town … and on a world that hadn’t been prepared to welcome Him.
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More about Moshe
In this story we are introduced to one of the shepherds to whom the angelic host announced the birth of the Messiah. His name is fictional, as is his young son, Shimon. The story is intended to help you experience the gathering that rapidly assembled to welcome Jesus into this world … by people who did not fully understand all His appearance meant.
It also sets the stage for events that would unfold in the years to come in the life of the young man as he grows older and hears about a miracle worker and teacher by the name of Jesus in the fictional novel titled Through the Eyes of A Shepherd. You will experience a story of redemption – the redemption of a shepherd – and the redemption of each one who chooses to follow the Good Shepherd.
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This story is excerpted from Little Did We Know, a collection of twenty-five short stories for the Advent season. The book is available through Amazon in standard print, large print, and for your Kindle or Kindle app. It is also available as an audiobook. Click HERE for more information on how you can obtain your copy.
I am grateful for the narrating talent of Kyle Bullock and all that he brought to the audiobook version of this story. i hope you will avail yourself to the print and audio versions of the story in order to capitalize on the full experience.
Thanks for joining me on the blog this week, and i do hope you’ll join me again next week … as together … we walk … with the Master.
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(1) Luke 2:10-11 (NLT)
(2) Luke 2:14 (NLT)
(3) Luke 2:15 (NLT)
Copyright © 2024 Kenneth A. Winter All rights reserved.
Photo by Photo Granary on Lightstock
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Silent Night (Lyric Video) by The Carpenters
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