A Sweetheart Deal: God's incredible offer in his unspeakable gift. Dr. Ernan Norman

      The Night the Angels Sang

      And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them … 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, good will toward men. (Luke 2:8–14)

      The night of the Savior’s birth was a glorious night. The star-studded canopy of heaven twinkled softly, quietly, as a billion points of light shone against a darkened sky. All was still in the earth’s atmosphere. Nature was hushed into silence as if in preparation for some grand event. The night stood still. There were the unsuspecting inhabitants of the land of Israel, and the slumbering heads, neither of which saw nor felt any apparent difference in the night. To the indifferent and the inattentive, the night on which the angels sang was a night with no discernable difference from any other. For the vast majority of the chosen, heaven’s benediction of peace and goodwill toward men was unheard, unnoticed, and unwelcome.

      On that night also, a special commission of angels entered the city of Jerusalem. Their assignment was to survey its inhabitants. Unknown and unnoticed by priests and people alike, the heavenly intelligences passed in and out of homes, places of business, and yes, even the temple itself. These heavenly ambassadors were on a search mission. They were listening, observing, and waiting for some sign of expectancy, some sign of receptivity in the hearts, minds, and conversations of the chosen. They were looking for even the slightest token, something, that would indicate that the priests and people in the religious center of Israel were ready to receive the Messiah. To the great amazement and disappointment of the angels, however, thoughts of God and of His promised Savior were ignominiously absent from the minds and conversations of both priests and people.

      Among the chosen, there were practically none that spoke of, thought of, or even hoped for the promised Messiah. Instead, the angels witnessed only the mundane, the worldly, and the unspiritual that crowded out thoughts of God and His Word. Expectancy and receptivity were to be found in the least likely of places—among the fewest and the lowliest of earth. From the open fields to the rising hills, even to the littlest of towns (the town of Bethlehem), only a few gave the slightest thought to the promised hope of Israel—the promised Messiah, the seed of David.

      Among the few who waited and hoped that the Messiah would come were the shepherds of Bethlehem. They spoke to each other about the hope of Israel. A hope, which, for many, seemed forgotten. A foreign despot sat on the throne of David. Roman occupation was at an all-time high. Oh, when would the deliverer of Israel come? This was the tenor of conversation, repeated again and again with great longing by the shepherds that night.

      Meanwhile, on that first Christmas Eve, a multitude of the angelic choir was anxiously waiting to pour forth the joyous strains of the Advent carol. Oh, how they longed to make known to the religious leaders and people in Jerusalem that God’s incredible offer in His unspeakable gift was to be found wrapped in swaddling clothes in a manger in Bethlehem! These very first carolers found no reason to sing in Jerusalem. There were no open hearts and no open doors in the religious center of Israel. There the angels could not sing the joyous chorus; the first noel, which so long waited since the fall of man in Eden. Shocking! Utterly heartrending to both God and the angels! “He came unto his own, and his own received him not” (John 1:11).

      The great God of the universe is not a God that majors in the minors. He is not a God who willingly acts in obscurity and in ways that are inconsequential. The announcement of the birth of His Son was to be given with no less of heaven’s grandeur and celestial acclaim than “when the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy” at the creation of earth (see Job 38:7). God’s desire was that His angels should proclaim the glad tidings of the birth of His Son to the religious leadership in Israel. It was His intent to have a grand and public celebration of His unspeakable gift to man—the gift of His Son—in the city of Jerusalem. It was also God’s intent to have the nation of Israel herald the joyous strain (the coming into the world of the Messiah) to the ends of the earth. But sadly, that was not to be the case. This divinely appointed opportunity would prove to be a sustained loss to the religious custodians in Jerusalem, but their loss would be the shepherds’ gain.

      Sadly (but gladly under divine direction), the angels took flight from Jerusalem toward the lonely plains of Bethlehem. There they would find the lowly shepherds, whose hearts were hungry for more than sheep; their hearts were hungering for the Great Shepherd of the sheep. It was here, over the slumbering plains, away from the centers of human population, in virtual obscurity, that the Christmas anthem would be proclaimed. It was to hearts that were hungering, thirsting, open, and receptive that the first noel was sung. They were the living example of these words: “Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled” (Matt. 5:6). Ellen G. White wrote in the Desire of Ages (one of the great classics on the life of Christ) that “only a few were longing to behold the Unseen. To these heaven’s embassy was sent.”5 The hymn writer captured the reality of that night—the night the angels sang—in these words: “The first noel the angels did say, was to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay.”6

      To the lowly shepherds, the angels bore the glad tidings. As an audience, these shepherds would be considered by men as the least, the fewest, the marginalized; but with God, they were the honored. That which is often considered least in the eyes of men is great in the eyes of heaven, and that which is considered great in the eyes of men likewise carries no weight with heaven. For our God resists the proud but gives grace (favor) to the humble. And again, it is written: “But to this man will I look, even to him that is poor and of a contrite spirit”; “For thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy; I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit” (Isaiah 66:2; 57:15). God is no respecter of persons, and as such, His plans and purposes will be made known to those whose hearts are right toward Him—whether to the king on his throne or the shepherd keeping watch over his sheep. It was to the least of these that God brought His heavenly serenade. Thus, the record states,

      And there were in the same country shepherds abiding