The offhand manner of the innkeeper is now contrasted with the enthusiasm of the heavenly herald and his accompanying hosts. Their first encounter was with a group of shepherds whom they found in a field where they were watching over some sheep.[2] The shepherds, confronted with the angel of the Lord, were terrified. Perhaps as was customary, they were talking to their sheep in loud crooning voices using the special language peculiar to them on such occasions. The temple sacrifices created a constant demand for sheep. The location might have been near where David had been shepherding his father’s flock when he was summoned to be anointed by Samuel as Israel’s next king (1 Sam. 16:11–12).

Suddenly, the field was ablaze with light (2:9). Luke describes the light as “the glory of the Lord,” which suggests that they were bathed in the Shekinah glory, the light of another world, the light that heralded the divine presence (Exod. 24:16; 1 Kings 8:10). The shepherds were filled with fear. The angels were used to that. The herald angel sought to calm their troubled breasts: “Fear not,” he said, “for, behold, I being you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger” (2:10–12). A sign indeed! Who would expect the newborn son of a king to be so wrapped and laid to rest?

Salvation! A Savior! A sign! Tidings of great joy indeed! Tidings for all of the people of the world! Just what the world needs! It has had soldiers and sovereigns enough. It needs a Savior! It needs Jesus Christ the Lord.

And a sign! When the wise men came, they were guided by a star. The humble shepherds were directed to a stable. Signs had been given often enough in olden times—seas turned to blood, the sun standing still, the shadow on the sundial halting and moving backward contrary to nature—such signs as had been seen before would be doubly appropriate now. But no! A Babe, wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger! Who but God would have thought of such a sign

“Let us go to Bethlehem!” the shepherds said. And leaving their flocks to fend for themselves, they made a beeline for Bethlehem. “They came with haste,” Luke says (2:16). And they found that it was true! There was the man, the woman, the Child, the manger, and the swaddling clothes. Amazing! And all of this was in the crude and pungent stable adjacent to a wayside inn.

Then out from the stable and into the streets! No one seems to have bothered to rouse the innkeeper and his guests. They had no room for the Lord of glory in their inn. Why should they be aroused? Let them sleep! Let them find out for themselves what wonders they had missed.

Wherever the shepherds went, they told their tale. People wondered, Luke says. But how many went? Was a steady stream of people heading for the inn? It seems not, although surely some people came. In any case, Mary “kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart” (2:19). She kept all of these things to herself and turned them over and over in her mind, determined to remember each detail. Many years later, she doubtless shared them with the beloved Dr. Luke.

Meanwhile, the shepherds came back to their sheep. They at least were overjoyed. The last we see of them, they were “glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen” (2:20). They were the first evangelists of the gospel age.