Now our story tonight is a new one, I bet.
I would wager that none of you ever has yet
heard the story of Christmastime, told by a SHEEP!
For they're not the most clever of beasts that you've met,
and their thinking is not universally deep...
so most authors forget them. Perhaps you did, too.
(I just can't think of one classic heroine ewe!)
And our little lamb Davy was no great exception.
He did not, in his studies, achieve near-perfection.
He missed lots of homework, was never poetic,
did not dream of being a prof or a medic...
No: Davy was Davy. Not Sir, Duke, or Doc.
Not grand, and not special; just one of the flock.
That's the way that sheep like it. One hundred percent.
I just wish we could all be so fully content.
Little Davy was hanging out, munching on stuff
with his group, when he happened to chomp on a tough
little strand of alfalfa. So, nursing his gums
and wishing he'd thought to pack up a few Tums,
he decided to head back to one little pasture
they'd been to that morning, that had the best mums.
If he ran all the way, he'd be back so much faster
that no one would notice a thing, until after.
And so, with this settled inside his small noggin,
when no one was lookin', then off he went joggin'!
At first, all was well. For the day was quite pretty.
The sparrows were chirping a cute little ditty.
The squirrels chattered busily from every tree,
and grasshoppers whirred with a chee-chipee-chee.
The sun was so warm, and the grass was so green,
and it all added up to be such a nice scene,
that perhaps Davy didn't, completely, exactly,
know just where he was, speaking matter-of-factly.
Now I might have mentioned this already once:
that most sheep are less genius than they are dunce.
Poor Davy--the nicest of lambs you could meet,
with impeccable manners, and ever so sweet--
hadn't hatched a good plan. He just hadn't been thinking.
And suddenly, he started having a sinking
suspicion that maybe, he might be alone.
He looked up... looked around... and he saw not a one.
You know how that feels: How at first, you keep peering
around, thinking maybe they're all simply joking,
and then you shout! Someone must be within hearing,
but when they don't answer, you kind of start choking...
and then you start running back toward where you were,
but you really aren't sure, 'cause your thoughts are a blur,
and you might get more lost... so you don't even try,
and not trying at all makes you break down and cry.
That's how Davy felt. He started to bleat,
and he choked, and he sobbed, and lay down in defeat.
It was not too much later the sun started setting.
Poor Davy's kind shepherd had just started getting
all ready to lead the sheep back for the night
to their warm barnyard home in the last of the light,
when he noticed that Davy was not where he should be.
He started to look every place that he could be:
he looked toward the woods, and he looked all around,
and he searched for his tracks in the soft, loamy ground,
and he stopped and he listened for cries being made
by a poor little lamb who was lost and afraid...
...but heard nothing. So, taking a moment to mind
that his flock would be safe, he then set off to find
his lost sheep. (That's what good shepherds always will do.
It has happened to me, and it will to you, too.)
Now where Davy lay down he had fallen asleep:
a small clump of white fluff in a sad little heap
on a round, grassy knoll. As the shadows grew long,
and the evening grew cold, and the night-wind grew strong,
Davy started to stir. He awoke with a start.
He could feel a dread pounding inside of his heart.
His body was aching and cold from the ground,
and his ears were afraid of the tiniest sound.
He heard a twig snap near the edge of the wood.
Was a wolf over there? Was she up to no good?
Would she come through the darkness, all ghoulish and drooling?
Or was he just scared--was his mind only fooling?
Davy looked, but saw darkness. His terror kept growing.
The terrible part was not seeing, not knowing.
I have found this to be true in my life, as well:
where it seems like everything goes great for a spell...
I grow lax, or get lazy, and think to myself:
"I can store up my faith in a box on a shelf.
"I can keep it for later, and not bother now.
"I'm too busy to pray much these days anyhow."
And, guess what? Before long, I don't know where I am.
My days remain full, but my life is a sham.
I get busier, crazier: everything needs me,
but none of it means much and none of it feeds me.
And then, when the fear of aloneness comes on me,
I look for my God. And then prayer is upon me.
Good shepherd, stay near us! I need you beside me.
Your voice is my comfort; your presence will guide me.
So, when I am close, then, especially, teach me.
I won't get so lost, if I let your Word reach me.
Well, Davy's good shepherd was in the dark, hunting.
And Davy was facing his fears, and confronting
the worst he could think... when a strange thing occurred.
(I'm not sure you'll believe me, but please take my word.)
For there, in the sky, came a glorious sight.
Just behind some dark trees came a strange, silver light.
It appeared to be dancing: small fires, all swirling,
and draped with great tendrils that seemed to be curling...
and music was playing--or these lights were singing?--
as though they were glad for some news they were bringing.
Small Davy came running! Perhaps it was only
the thought of just feeling a little less lonely,
but somehow that light shining just past a hill
gave a small frightened sheep just a little more will.
It was help; it was hope. Davy's thin legs ran fleet,
up the hill, and then over... and ...who should he meet?
Maybe some of you smart ones have already guessed.
I suppose I don't need to recount all the rest!
How the shepherds were there, where the angels were humming,
and how they rejoiced when they saw Davy coming!
How his heart filled with joy and his feet felt so light,
and his very own shepherd-friend hugged him so tight.
The hilltop on which this reunion was placed
was so full of their love and their care, it was graced
so it still seemed to glow when the angels had gone...
and after a moment, they all hurried on.
For the angels had told them: The child is coming!
The trees are all clapping, and saplings are thrumming!
The grasses are waving, and rivers are swaying,
and even the stones are immobile with praying!
The sheep finds a home, all the lost reunited,
each valley raised up, and all loving requited.
The stars are alive, and the mountaintop thunders!
Have you not perceived all these marvelous wonders?
They followed as told, and they came to the place
where they saw this new child, like God face-to-face...
and his mother was there, and she looked with delight
as though even she couldn't quite fathom the sight...
For indeed, there was power and love in his eyes,
which were sad, but were clear like the clearest of skies.
And his hands were so small, but they seemed still to hold
all the cares of the world in their little enfold.
And his mouth opened up, and his cry was a call
to come, love him, and follow, whatever befall...
(for they each had the thought, though they pushed it away,
that his life would be heard, and his suffering great.
But that is a story for some other day...)
For right now, we are gathered--we sheep!--on this night,
in this safe and good place, with the room full of light,
with the candles aglow, hemmed with bright red and green,
and we lambs all feel hushed and feel awed by the scene.
For we all have been lost in our tempests and madness,
our schedule-making and crammed-in-routining.
We've lost our companions: our joy and our gladness,
our prayer and thanksgiving and families and meaning.
Now, at last, we are Davy: how tired we've been!--
but tonight, we are rescued. We're safe and serene.
We're surrounded completely by people who care.
They have seen what we've seen. They, like us, are aware
of the beauty of what we most deeply adore,
and the hope for us all God is holding in store.
We are found. We are known, reunited and stilled.
We are sheep of his pasture. May your night be filled
with this wonder, this baby, this child of glory;
the reason we tell this magnificent story.
The story is timeless. God speaks it again.
Christ is here! Christ is born. Alleluia, Amen!
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