RIGHT OF CENTER: THE OBEDIENCE OF THE SHEPHERDS

Most people are familiar with the Christmas story, of the blessed Christ child in the manger, of the angels and wise men, of the star in the East.

The characters of the nativity are more familiar in America than even the pilgrims at Plymouth Rock and the heroes of the Revolution. Such is the apex of history intertwined with American culture.

Of all the characters in that great story, I am most fascinated with the shepherds watching their flocks that momentous night.

(ital) And an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were filled with fear. (unital.)

To me, those shepherds were the Joe Sixpacks of Judean society. They were the Jewish blue-collar working men. Interesting isn't it, that God chose to send his messenger to them hailing the birth of Emmanuel. Imagine the terror they must have felt in the midst of God's glory.

(ital) And the angel said to them, "Be not afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of a great joy which will come to all the people; for to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find a babe wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger." And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among men with whom he is pleased." (unital)

Imagine the response such a heavenly visitation would prompt in many of us. The spiritual experience likely would change our lives forever. There would be a book deal; maybe a movie. Modern-day shepherds -- perhaps Gabriel would appear to truck drivers keeping their late-night watch at an interstate rest area -- would become authorities on the subject of angels, the glory of the Lord, heavenly hosts, and all manner of spiritual goosebumpery. In other words, they would miss the point entirely of the blessed birth.

But those common men of long ago didn't marvel at the messenger. Instead they went with haste to worship the child, telling everyone along the way what had occurred in Bethlehem that night. The shepherds didn't argue over theology about angels or the prophesies pertaining to the Jewish Messiah. They obeyed.

Would that we also exhibited such obedience to God's guidance. But how can God's will be discovered? After all, we don't often hear of messengers from heaven in our midst.

As the Christ child became a man, he traveled throughout the Middle East preaching of a new covenant between God and man. The prophet Jeremiah foretold this new contract, which was fulfilled in the birth, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ:

(ital) After those days, I will put my law in their inward parts, and write it in their hearts. (unital)

Before his final ascension into heaven Jesus comforted his followers by telling them he would send the Holy Spirit to dwell in their hearts. When we disobey God, our consciences are seared. The Holy Spirit tells us we're wrong when we mistreat others, when we're dishonest, when we are prideful or jealous.

But much of modern psychology aims to end the nagging guilt of disobedience. If we find ways to ignore or erase guilt feelings, or to justify behavior that leads to guilt, we are free again to enjoy life without regard to God. But ignoring the law written on our hearts only vanquishes God's grace and redemption from our lives.

Imagine what would have happened if Joseph -- another fascinating player in the nativity -- was disobedient to God. Faced with the shame of a pregnant fiance and knowing he wasn't the father, he chose to ignore others' accusatory glances and obey God. As implausible as it seemed, his betrothed was to bear the Messiah. Without his obedience, there would have been no trek to Judea for the census, no fulfilled prophecy, perhaps no Christ child or new covenant.

And obedience to God, such as shown by Joseph and Mary, the shepherds and, ultimately, Christ, is what continues to sustain hope in those who believe in the miracle of that blessed night 2,000 years ago.

~Jay Eastlick is the news editor of the Southeast Missourian.