Photo courtesy of middle-east-pictures.com
MANY OF YOU HAVE REQUESTED THIS BE REPOSTED FROM LAST YEAR. HAPPY TO DO SO. ENJOY.
(A brief Lectionary reflection by Steve Orr for Christmas Eve)
On the surface, "The Wild Bunch" sounds like a pretty interesting movie: an aging group of “old west” outlaws has trouble adjusting to the very modern world of 1913. From that premise we could build almost any kind of movie; a comedy, a love story, a heroic epic; maybe even a heart-warming Christmas tale. But that premise is not the whole of it.
When Roger Ebert reviewed the movie back in the summer of 1969, he called it "the most violent movie ever made," a movie in which "there are no heroes; just some bad people we know killing some bad people we don't know." And if that doesn't give you pause, let me add my own caution: even though some mainstream movies may have matched the violence of this film in recent years, the cruelty depicted in it is still truly disturbing all these decades later. While we could spend a lot of time engaging in the ongoing debate about the value of the film (it is considered by many to be one of the top ten westerns of all time), that's not why I raised the topic here.
I want us to consider the wild bunch, themselves.
Here is a group of men who are hard; who spend a lot of their time out in the badlands, sleeping rough, living rough. They look rough, and they smell bad. Not the kind of folk most of us would choose to spend any time with at all. For any reason. We immediately mistrust them. There is something about the look of them that makes us want to turn and go the other way. Not someone you would wish to have join the family, and if they were already in the family, well, we would want to send them as far away as we could possibly arrange.
In short, a lot like the shepherds keeping watch over their flocks by night . . . on THAT night.
What?!
Oh, yes. Scholars tell us that at the time of Jesus' birth, shepherding was a despised trade, comprised of despised people. They were considered thieves; in fact, people were strongly discouraged from purchasing milk or wool from shepherds because it was widely assumed they had come by those goods dishonestly. They were not allowed to provide testimony in a criminal investigation. Loving fathers refused to teach their sons the trade.
Wow. That really changes how we see the events of that night of nights. Picture it with me. These low men are out in the fields with the sheep. Some are sleeping. Sheep don’t smell any better at night than in the day; and they don’t smell any better when asleep. But these men have grown accustomed to the smell. In fact, the men smell exactly the same as the sheep. Those who are keeping watch are alert to the sounds of the night; more concerned for their own lives than for the lives of the sheep.
Suddenly: an angel just APPEARS out of nowhere! Right there in the middle of them! Glory and light shine all about. The shepherds’ first thought: RUN! But the angel, who knows they are afraid (and probably should be) calms them down. He gives them the message about the Messiah being born in the nearby town and describes how they will recognize him. And if that was not enough, suddenly, there are even MORE angels surrounding them; an army of them, shouting in unison “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and peace on earth to people who please Him!”
Then, just as suddenly as they appeared: they are just not there.
After all that, what would you do? The shepherds did just what I think any of us would do (after we got over the shock); they went to investigate.
Now picture THIS scene: Mary and Joseph (surrounded by livestock, having wrapped their newborn son in cloths and placed him in the feed trough because, well, there is just NO WHERE ELSE) hear a noise. At first, it is unidentifiable; but soon, they recognize it as the many voices of excited people; and the sound appears to be rushing toward them. In short order, the little stable is crammed full of shepherds; not exactly the kind of people parents would want near their newborn. And the smell, already bad, only gets worse. There is a lot of pushing and shoving; finally the whole crowd tells the tale; talking over each other, each one trying to tell it.
Then, like many have over the ensuing millennia, the shepherds took to the streets to tell what they had seen and heard that night. And---maybe for the first time ever---people stopped to listen to them; these hard, low men; these thieves. And the people marveled at what they heard.
