“When my father had finished speaking, we all bowed low again before the young child; and the mother lifted him in her arms and placed his cheek against her own, smiling graciously on us, but uttering no word. And we came forth from the stable and stood again beneath the stars in the courtyard of the inn. By this time many of the travelers were awake, and an eager company had gathered around us, all of whom desired to be told of the sign that had been shown to us. To one and another we rehearsed our story, lingering long to make known the good tidings, until the morning star appeared and the dawn began to kindle over the eastern hills. Then we hastened to our own homes in the city, and told our kindred what had happened unto us. In the early morning we came back again unto our pastures and our flocks, rejoicing to stand again in the place where the glory of God had shone and the music of heaven had filled the air.”

Stephanus paused, his face all aglow with the tale that he had been telling. His eyes swept again the circuit of the moonlit hills and were lifted reverently up to the sky.

“Did you ever see the Lord Christ after that?” asked Joseph.

“Once only. My father and I were at Jerusalem at the passover. It was the year before my father died, seventeen years ago; it was the same week on which our Lord was crucified. My father was then an aged man fourscore and five years old. Our tent was pitched on the slope of the Mount of Olives, near the
Bethany road. While we sat there one morning, a great noise of shouting was heard, and presently we saw one riding on an ass, followed by a great company, crying ‘Hosanna!’ As we drew nearer, we heard them say that it was Jesus of Nazareth; and, when we saw His face, we knew that it was He, by the wonderful eyes, though it was the face of a bearded man, and not of an infant, and was very pale and sad. As He drew near to our tent, the city came full into His view, with its gilded roofs and marble pinnacles, blazing under the morning sun.

Suddenly He paused in the way, and we heard Him weeping aloud, though we could not hear His words of lamentation. The multitude halted, too, when we did; and the cheering ceased, and some of those who stood nearest Him wept also, though no one seemed to know what had caused His grief. But soon they went on
again, and before they reached the foot of the hill another multitude met them, coming forth from the city, and we heard their shouts of ‘Hosanna in the Highest!’ as they entered the gate of Jerusalem.”

“What said your father when he saw all this?” queried Joseph.

“He said but little. There was a shadow on his face, yet he spoke cheerfully. ‘I cannot understand it,’ he murmured. ‘They are trying to make Him King of the Jews; but King He will not be, at least not in their fashion. Yet in some way I know He will be Prince and Deliverer. I cannot understand, I will wait.’”

“Were you not in Jerusalem when He was put to death?”

“No. My father was frail and ill and we had hastened home to Bethlehem. News of His death on the cross had only just reached us when another messenger came to tell us that the sepulcher in which He had been laid was empty; that He had risen from the dead.

“My father’s eyes kindled when he heard this message. He cast aside his staff and stood firm on his feet. His voice, when he spoke, rang out like a trumpet. ‘Blessed be the Lord God of Israel!’ he cried. It is thus that He redeemeth His people. This Jesus is not to be the Captain of our armies, but the Savior of our souls. His kingdom is the kingdom of righteousness, and therefore it is that the prophet hath said: “Of the increase of His government and peace there shall be no end.”

“Always after that, words of the prophet concerning the Messiah kept coming back to my father; and once and again he cried out: ‘Truly, this Jesus was the Son of God, the true King of Israel!’ As the months wore on, his words were more and more of the crucified and risen Lord, and he dwelt in a great peace. At length, when the flocks were led forth to the midwinter pasturage, he begged to go with me. It was on this very day that we came, the same day of the year on which the Lord was born. He was feeble and tottered as he walked; but he leaned on my arm and we came slowly. In the evening he said: ‘Let me go, my son, and sit once more under the great rock.’ I wrapped him in my coat of skins, and sat here where I sit now and where he was sitting when the angel came. We talked here long, under the stars, that night, of Him whom we had learned to love as Master and Lord, of the works that He had done and the words that He had spoken, as His disciples had told of them. We had been silent for a few moments, when I looked up, and saw that his head had fallen backward
against the rock wall. I sprang to him. His eyes were shut, but his lips were moving. I put my ear to his mouth, and heard him say only: Peace On earth; good will’ they were his last words.

He had gone beyond our starlight, into the country where the light always shines the glory that fell that night, fifty years ago, upon these hills of Bethlehem.”

Stephanus was silent and Joseph’s eyes were full of tears. At length the old man rose.

“Come, my son,” he said. “Cesil is in the south; it is midnight; let us call your father and his brother. The old man and the boy have kept their watch, and it is now time for rest.”

Read The Shepherd’s Story [Part 1]   [Part 2]   [Part 3]   [Part 4]

By Washington Gladden