Of Lambs and Kings
“Why are we here?”
“You heard, the angels, Reuben,” Benjamin said. “To find the baby they talked about.”
“Yes, yes. I know,” Rueben whispered as the two shepherds crept just inside the stable where a young woman and her husband knelt by a manger. “But why us?”
The Shepherds Visit
So focused on the bundle in the hay was the young couple, they seemed unaware of the shepherds’ entrance. The two friends eased quietly forward. As they caught a glimpse of the tightly swaddled baby, one of their lambs pushed between them and stretched its muzzle toward a wisp of hay poking through the manger slats.
“Cush now, little one,” said Reuben, drawing the animal back. “You weren’t supposed to follow us inside.”
Benjamin arched his head over his friend’s shoulder in order to see the baby’s face. “Ah, Reuben. He’s a beautiful lad now, isn’t he?”
“Aye. You can tell he’s born for greatness, that one. Just look how he gazes around. Like he already understands what’s going on. But how tender those eyes are. Why, he could be one of our lambs; he’s that quiet and soft.” Reuben stroked the lamb as he held it firmly.
“True enough. But tender as these lambs are, they’re born for one thing – dying in Temple service. Not like this child. He has something grand in his future; something that will change the world, I’ll wager. Why else would angels go to the trouble of appearing to such as us? His fate has something to do with leadership; you mark my words. He’ll not be like these poor beasts, shoved forward through the crowds just to feel the rough hands of sinners laying their guilt on his shoulders.”
“You’re right, of course. Our innocent lambs will feel their lives flowing out when the knife pierces them. But this child,” Reuben said, picking up the lamb as he and his friend backed out of the stable, “is clearly favored of the Lord. He’s more likely to be a shepherd than a sheep.”
Reuben set the lamb down and shooed him toward the flock. “There now. Off you go. No animals in the stable this night.” He watched the little one scuttle up the hill to his mother, then stretched and yawned in the crisp night air. “We’d best take over watching the sheep for Eli and give him a chance to come see the babe. He’ll be wondering what’s taken us so long.”
The two friends had just turned to walk up the hill when Reuben jerked to a halt. “What was that? Did you hear it? The sound from the stable…”
Benjamin smiled and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “You’re as jumpy as I’ve ever seen you tonight, Reuben. It was nothing – just the baby cooing to his mother.”
“Was it now? I wonder…” Reuben squinted toward the stable door. “I could have sworn it was the bleating of a newborn lamb.”
Mild He lays His glory by
Born that man no more may die…
Hark! The herald angels sing
“Glory to the newborn King!” (Charles Wesley)
Terry Murphy is a writer and speaker with with articles that have appeared in several different periodicals including Bible Advocate Online, The Upper Room, Mature Living and The Christian Communicator. Terry lives with her happily retired and fully Irish husband in an empty nest located in the thriving metropolis of Gresham, OR (just east of a small town called Portland). You can see her latest musings on www.disciplespost.com
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