Witnesses to a Christmas miracle: The Shepherds

This post originally appeared in my 12 Kids and Counting Blog on Dec. 22, 2009


I've been thinking about shepherds lately. We're having a Christmas Eve service -- 5 o'clock Thursday, you're all invited -- to sing some hymns and carols, read out of Luke 2 and I'll share a short message. As I read Luke's account of the birth of Christ, I can't help but wonder about the shepherds who saw the angel of the Lord. I've read accounts that 2,000 years ago shepherds were the pickpockets and thieves of the day. The sorry, no-account drifters who were troublemakers and virtually indentured servants. Things haven't changed much, perhaps. I've enclosed a link at the bottom of this post to help you see where I'm going with this thing.

But let me describe the life of a modern-day sheepherder in the barren Wyoming outback, where you might be in charge of a flock of 1,500 or 2,000 sheep: On call 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Your home is a 5 x 10 "campito" without running water. Have to go to the bathroom? Here's a shovel. You have no electricity. The searing summer days can hit 100 degrees. On Christmas Day at a sheep camp near Encampment, Wyo., look for a high of 14 degrees, with a low of zero. And snow. Your heat source is a wood stove. It might even work, particularly if you have wood. In addition to no days off, a sheepherder must be able to ride a horse and repair fences. Not to mention guard the flock against predators and poisonous weeds. Not only that, a decent worker should be able to assist in lambing, docking, castrating (Rocky Mountain oysters baby!), dehorning, shearing, vaccinating, drenching and medicating the sheep. Sometimes the work gets a little hairy -- or worse. Wolves are a constant problem in parts of Wyoming. Other places have bigger problems. On Sept. 14 in Sublette County, a sheepherder was attacked by a grizzly bear. Miraculously he lived. The bear left a 7-inch gash in the man's head, two punctures on the left side of his chest, three claw wounds on his gut and a punctured wrist. Oh, here's the kicker. The pay is $650 a month. And all the sagebrush you can see.

Yet these are the guys the angel of the Lord came to tell about the birth of the Messiah, our Savior. Why? Why not the Bethlehem Town Council? Or the Bethlehem Chamber of Commerce, or Rotary Club? Surely a group of men existed in metropolitan Bethlehem that were far more qualified to have an audience with an angel of the Lord than a bunch of sketchy shepherds. This is what I love about God. He takes the sorriest, no accountenest knuckleheads and uses them for His glory. Read about their response to the news of the birth of Christ. I'd say they were transformed. Any thoughts on what kind of weight it carried when these guys started spreading the word about what they had heard and seen? No wonder Luke describes it thusly in 2:18: "And all those who heard it marveled at those things which were told them by the shepherds." (NKJV)

There's a part of me that would like to taste the life of a Wyoming sheepherder. What's it really like out there? How bad is it? Could I endure it for more than a few days? I can think of one redeeming aspect of a sheepherder in Wyoming. When night falls in that big sky that stretches from the end of the earth to the end of the earth, unobstructed by trees, or houses, or apartments, or skyscrapers, without artificial light flickering for maybe a hundred miles, you can look up at a billion stars and be amazed by the hand of God. I reckon that's what those shepherds were doing 2,000 years ago, before the angel even appeared. They were looking up.

Three Things to DO This Christmas Season

I tend to chart out my life by a series of events. I have this sort of oral history in my mind and recall certain things by events in my life. For example, it's easy to remember when we moved from Prineville, Ore., to Corvallis, Ore., because it was right after Abram was born in 1999. Or I remember  the year when Eli was born because it was 2004 -- when we moved to Gloucester, Va. Another example would be remembering precisely when gasoline prices spiked in 2008 -- it was in September at the exact moment we were driving to Oregon so I could attend the School of Ministry at Calvary Chapel Corvallis. I will never forget the shock -- maybe horror is a better word -- of seeing the price of gas on the freeway in Tennessee at $4.99 per gallon. Or the acute physical pain associated with watching the needle of our fuel gauge rapidly drop toward `E' when we were driving into ferocious oncoming winds on I-80 in Wyoming. It's still painful to remember it seven years later ...

A year ago I spent two weeks in Nigeria while working as Communications Manager for the Transformational Education Network. It was an extraordinary time as we worked with church officials in Nigeria to open Bible-teaching computer training schools. As part of our work we traveled to a few schools, including the ones pictured above. Take a good look at those photos. Would you, as an American, say they are less than ideal conditions for school?

But here's the thing I remember when I visited those schools: The smiles I got from those students. I think about that frequently. Those kids have it rough and I'm know there are countless discouraging things they face every day. But they are so excited about going to school because it is a privilege and a blessing in that country. I'm not sure what percentage of Nigerian children actually get to wear uniforms and receive an education in a safe environment, but it may well be surprisingly low. These kids are grateful, to say the least.

I say all this because we all know how easy it is to get caught up in the consumer mentality of the American Christmas. I am guilty of it as well. We focus on things that don't matter, instead of things that do matter. With that in mind, I'd like to encourage all of us in three things -- particularly me -- this Christmas season.

1) Be thankful. I've traveled around the world. I've been to Africa, Haiti, China, South Korea, Hong Kong and other countries. We have so much to be thankful for as Americans. Be thankful for simple things such as running water, electricity, easy transportation, an overabundance of food and access to education. We take them for granted. Be thankful for our freedoms and safety in this country. The vast majority of us are untouched by violence, despite mass shootings and murder rates in inner cities. We don't have armed guards standing at gates at churches to ensure the safety of congregants like I saw in Jos, Nigeria. We don't have AK-47-toting soldiers manning checkpoints on highways every 10 or 15 miles to make sure terrorists aren't toting bombs and weapons across the country, as I saw in Nigeria. Not yet at least ...

More importantly, though, be thankful for a Savior. Two thousand years ago in an inconsequential town in the Middle East a child was born who would grow to become a remarkably compassionate, loving man. He is the Son of God and would live a sinless life, performing miracles of healing and later enduring searing punishment and torture and be nailed to a cross to be crucified. He would sacrifice His own life and take on our sins so that we could be free from the shackles of our trespasses and live life abundantly. Be thankful for the grace, mercy and selfless, unconditional love of Jesus Christ.

2) Be giving. We have this consumer mentality in America and an obsession with material things. Even in the church we find it hard to live out what Jesus said: That it's better to give than to receive. One of the saddest things I've heard recently is listening to the stories of two of my kids who work in the food service industry describe how the worst day for tips is Sunday afternoon when the Christians in their nice clothes go out to eat after church. Or how those same people can be among the rudest and most demanding customers. One of my kids describes how sad it is to know that some of the store's worst customers are a group of people wearing their church t-shirts who are rude to staff and then sit around and gossip. Come on Christians. We can do better.

Give more this year. In tips, in love, in deeds, in words and joy. Be a light to this dark world. Reflect the compassion of Jesus and live it out. Radiate the love of Jesus to a world that trades in harsh words, cynicism and selfishness.

3) Be servants. Jesus said that he came to this world to serve and not to be served. If we call ourselves Christians, that means we are followers of Jesus Christ and that these words should resonate with us. Does being a servant describe your life? Husbands, what does serving your wife look like in your house at the moment? How about with your kids? How does being a servant play out at work? How does it play out at church? Being a servant is a mindset that entails setting aside your needs to serve others and it can be a complete foreign concept to us. It starts at home. Believe me, I can do better and I know it. Perhaps many of us can do better. This world will be a better place when we have more people, Christians particularly, who view the journey through this life through the lens of being a servant. It's serving without complaint, accepting responsibility, being quick to apologize and quick to forgive and being patient and loving.

I leave with a verse that's one of my favorites, a prophecy from Isaiah 9 that describes the coming of Jesus. Just as Jesus is a light to a dark world, we can be lights this Christmas season: "The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; Those who dwelt in the land of the shadow of death, upon them a light has shined."

The Shepherds Who Were Looking Up

From a blog post I wrote in December 2009:

I've been thinking about shepherds lately. We're having a Christmas Eve service -- 5 o'clock on Dec. 24th at the Boys & Girls Club, you're all invited -- to sing some hymns and carols, read out of Luke 2 and I'll share a short message.

As I read Luke's account of the birth of Christ, I can't help but wonder about the shepherds who saw the angel of the Lord. I've read accounts that 2,000 years ago shepherds were the pickpockets and thieves of the day. The sorry, no-account drifters who were troublemakers and virtually indentured servants. Things haven't changed much, perhaps. I've enclosed a link at the bottom of this post to help you see where I'm going with this thing.

But let me describe the life of a modern-day sheepherder in the barren Wyoming outback, where you might be in charge of a flock of 1,500 or 2,000 sheep: On call 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Your home is a 5 x 10 "campito" without running water. Have to go to the bathroom? Here's a shovel. You have no electricity. The searing summer days can hit 100 degrees. On Christmas Day at a sheep camp near Encampment, Wyo., look for a high of 14 degrees, with a low of zero. And snow.

Your heat source is a wood stove. It might even work, particularly if you have wood. In addition to no days off, a sheepherder must be able to ride a horse and repair fences. Not to mention guard the flock against predators and poisonous weeds. Not only that, a decent worker should be able to assist in lambing, docking, castrating (Rocky Mountain oysters baby!), dehorning, shearing, vaccinating, drenching and medicating the sheep.

Sometimes the work gets a little hairy -- or worse. Wolves are a constant problem in parts of Wyoming. Other places have bigger problems. On Sept. 14 in Sublette County, a sheepherder was attacked by a grizzly bear. Miraculously he lived. The bear left a 7-inch gash in the man's head, two punctures on the left side of his chest, three claw wounds on his gut and a punctured wrist. Oh, here's the kicker. The pay is $650 a month. And all the sagebrush you can see.

Yet these are the guys the angel of the Lord came to tell about the birth of the Messiah, our Savior. Why? Why not the Bethlehem Town Council? Or the Bethlehem Chamber of Commerce, or Rotary Club? Surely a group of men existed in metropolitan Bethlehem that were far more qualified to have an audience with an angel of the Lord than a bunch of sketchy shepherds.

This is what I love about God. He takes the sorriest, no accountenest knuckleheads and uses them for His glory. Read about their response to the news of the birth of Christ. I'd say they were transformed. Any thoughts on what kind of weight it carried when these guys started spreading the word about what they had heard and seen? No wonder Luke describes it thusly in 2:18: "And all those who heard it marveled at those things which were told them by the shepherds." (NKJV)

There's a part of me that would like to taste the life of a Wyoming sheepherder. What's it really like out there? How bad is it? Could I endure it for more than a few days?

I can think of one redeeming aspect of a sheepherder in Wyoming. When night falls in that big sky that stretches from the end of the earth to the end of the earth, unobstructed by trees, or houses, or apartments, or skyscrapers, without artificial light flickering for maybe a hundred miles, you can look up at a billion stars and be amazed by the hand of God.

I reckon that's what those shepherds were doing 2,000 years ago, before the angel even appeared. They were looking up.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/8364558@N07/522593774

Sabo Road Trip Across America: Part I

                                                  Van life. Sabo style. Seth is hungry ...

On Sunday, July 13, 2014, the Sabos launched what can only be described as "The Great Sabo Road Trip: Version 4.0." For the fourth time we would set out in a van across this great country, traversing rolling hills, majestic mountain passes, treeless plains and deep gorges as we aimed our Chevrolet Express west toward Oregon. On a road trip that would be the fourth time we would go coast-to-coast across America, we would tackle what few families would dare to even imagine: Drive 3,069 miles over the course of 5 days in a van stuffed to nearly exploding with kids, luggage, gummy bears, goldfish crackers, various other snacks, pillows, blankets, coolers, an iMac and, as you can see in Seth's grubby little mitt, pizza. No road trip across the country is complete without pepperoni pizza after all.

It's hard to describe in words what it's like traversing the geographic heart of America in a van posing as a moving house full of kids. But let us try.

Day 1: Gloucester to Danville, Kentucky. Just east of Charlottesville, a mere two hours into our journey I hear Judah's van from the depths of the abyss: "Are we almost to Oregon?" Oy. It's started.
We make it to our destination of our new friends the Morlotes -- amazing hosts and wonderful people -- sometime after midnight. We're safe, we're sound and we survived driving through a thunderstorm in a 3-car caravan late at night on Kentucky roads, with only one detour through a McDonald's parking lot.

                                                  The road trip struggle is real, man.

Day 2: Danville to St. Joseph Missouri. We drove 600 plus miles, a journey low lighted by the sight of black clouds, howling winds and debris being blown across I-70 outside of St. Louis. I was pretty sure we were going to drive through a tornado. We managed to pull off the freeway and find cover in a mall while the storm passed. We stormed the food court like locusts, or a tornado, leaving virtually nothing in our wake. If you happened to be in a mall near St. Louis and saw a man with a bunch of little kids riding the escalator over and over again, well, that was me. What can I say? The Sabos are easily entertained.

                                              The elephant is stuffed. The kids are real.

Day 3: St. Joseph to Laramie, Wyoming. What a day. I learned something on our drive and that is that they grow corn in Nebraska. And that Nebraska is a very loooooooooonnnnnngggggg state full of corn. Our highlight in Nebraska, besides watching the corn actually while we hurtled down I80 at 80 mph, was a stop at Cabela's in Sidney. Anyone who is anyone stops at the Cabela's at Sidney, which happens to be the site of company headquarters. As you can see in the photo above, Cabela's was a big hit. A Cabela's is basically a taxidermist's dream. It's like a zoo full of dead animals, and I say that in a good way. An elephant, moose, elk, deer, bobcats, mountain lions, birds, squirrels, fish ... if it's covered in hair or fur and walks in four legs it's pretty much stuffed and in the Cabela's in Sidney. Somehow we managed to walk out of there without buying any firearms. Or trying to stuff an elk in the van for Judah to pet along the way. Other highlights included an amazing thunderstorm in metro Cheyenne. When the storm parted and the sun poked through the clouds it was breathtakingly gorgeous.

                                              Somewhere in Wyoming. Or was it Idaho?

Day 4: Laramie to Boise, Idaho. A 690-mile run in which we only traveled through 2 states. On the East Coast, particularly the Northeast, if you travel 690 miles you're going to hit at least 6 to 8 states. I don't even know if we traveled through that many counties. Wyoming is an absolutely amazing state. For example, we were nearing Cheyenne, or maybe it was Laramie, and Judah had to go pee. It was quite urgent, in fact. We made it to a rest area on a mountain pass at 8,700 feet elevation. That is way up there! Just walking to the restroom is a lung burner! Then when you are up on the high plains of Wyoming where the interstate speed limit is 80 mph, you can look literally as far as the eye can see and not see a single tree. Zip, nothing, nada with leaves. It's grassy hills and plateaus and indigo skies with fluffy clouds you think you can grab when you roll down your window. Our trip had a bit of a hiccup when a hazmat incident closed I80 at Evanston on the southwestern fringe of Wyoming into Utah. A very helpful Wyoming Department of Transportation worker we reached by phone directed us to Highway 30 through Kemmerer and on into Idaho. I have to say, it was a gorgeous drive. Everyone raved about the scenery: The stark, rather desolate landscape of southern Wyoming to valleys where green hay fields straddle the river bottoms and a few herds of antelope roam (Seriously. We saw them.), to big skies and picturesque mountain ranges forming the backdrop of little towns like Soda Springs, Montpelier and Georgetown. We're actually glad about this detour.

Stay tuned for Part II of our road trip, when we pick it up with an incident in Idaho involving a small Sabo within the tight confines of a Dodge Dart that left Claire and Evie traumatized. Perhaps for life ...