Israel is at its best in the springtime. This can easily be proven by driving through the hill country of Judah. The hills roll with green grass and khaki-colored limestone scattered throughout, creating the illusion of layers and steps on the hills. Looking back is Herodium, its volcano-like form looms behind me, it is one of Herod the Great’s fortresses. Then I enter the vast expanse of the hill country dotted with small towns.
Herodium was decreed by Herod to be his burial spot around 43 BC. He had a traumatic experience here as he was fleeing from the Parthians during his governorship of Galilee. It is said that his mother, Cypros’, chariot flipped over. He almost committed suicide but refrained when he found out she was alive and only sustained minor injuries. Journeying to Rome afterward to aid in the battle with the Parthians, he connected with the right people, namely Mark Antony and Octavian. When he eventually left Rome around 40 BC he had been declared “The King of the Jews” and given the land of Israel to reconquer and rule as Rome’s client king. He would eventually use Herodium as his fortress, palace, and burial place after dying a miserable death in 4 AD.
Herod, although possessing the title of king of the Jews, was not a full Jew. He was only a half-Jew (if he could even make that claim). He was half Arab and half Idumean. His father was among those forcibly converted to Judaism by Judas Maccabeus in the second century BC. This forced change created tension between the true Jews and the new converts. When Herod the Great was then granted the title of “King of the Jews,” he had to take extra measures to endear himself to the Jews because he was not a true Jew and this title had been given to him by the Romans, whom the Jews hated.
With Bethlehem in my view and the hills of the shepherds surrounding me, my group read the accounts of the nativity. The wise men in Matthew 2:2 ask Herod, “where is He who has been born king of the Jews?” After all his effort to endear himself to the Jews and to claim the title of their king, this question would have infuriated and frightened Herod. There was one who was now BORN with the title and privilege. It was not given to Him by the Romans, and Herod knew that this baby boy was a threat to his rule. Reading this account with fresh eyes, seeing the lands where it took place and knowing the history brings out details that were obscure before. The impact of the wise man declaring to Herod that Jesus had been born the king of the Jews carries a greater weight and awe for the true King.
Stepping out of the bus I made my way through the Cenomanian limestone so prevalent in this part of Israel. Overlooking the valley is a small town cresting the top of the hill directly in front of me. This is the city of Tekoa, the hometown of the prophet Amos. And to the right is the town of Bethlehem, the city of David, the birthplace of Christ.
This land has been ridden with shepherds throughout its history. David was a shepherd boy. And he presumably traversed the same hills I am currently sitting in. As I look out over the valley, the cold wind slaps my face, taking my straight hair up into the sky and bringing it down in one large knot. As I sat bracing against the wind, my group took a moment to read and reflect on Psalm 23.
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters.
He restores my soul.
He leads me in paths of righteousness
for his name's sake.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord
forever.
Reading through and pausing to reflect on each verse individually we were able to reflect and thank God for His mercies and goodness to us. Then, as if we were in a movie, a shepherd and their flock appear and pass right before us. They had blended into the landscape so well that it wasn’t until they were almost upon us that we saw them. The shepherd was dressed in dark clothes, brown boots, and a winter hat. All he carried with him was a skinny wooden rod, but the sheep followed him. He had his own shrill call and the sheep’s ears pricked, hearing their master, immediately following his lead. He would occasionally throw pebbles close to their feet in order to keep them from straying too far, watching out for them and never allowing them to leave his sight.
We continued to read from the Psalms as the imagery was displayed before us. This shepherd was performing the same actions David would have been performing while writing this Psalm. He would be patiently walking alongside his flock, sitting on stones when they decided to take a break and feed on the grass. Performing the same actions on as if on repeat, all day, every day. Leading the flock out during the day, wandering at a snail’s pace until sundown, and then leading them back to the gate. The dreary, repetitive pattern sunup to sundown all his life. Just as this shepherd faithfully performed his duties to his flock, so David did. He not only defended his helpless sheep from the lions and the bears as 1 Samuel states, but he also spent the time thinking about and praising God, creating some of the most beautiful Psalms we have in our possession.
They soon continued passed us and out of sight. We switched gears and contemplated Christ as our Good Shepherd. Just as these sheep knew their shepherd’s voice, so do God’s children know His voice, His call, and will eagerly follow Him. The human shepherd carried a staff, so does the Psalm say, “…your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” Christ also carries His rod of protection for us. And because we know there is nothing that can harm us when we trust in the shepherd, it brings us comfort. But it is also a tool of discipline for those sheep who do not obey the voice of their Shepherd.
On further inspection, I realized just how easily the sheep blend into the landscape of the hill country. Some had wool the same light shade of the khaki rocks, others were spotted and had portions of light and dark wool adding to their camouflage. Our professor told us to imagine one sheep getting lost. The shepherd cares for his sheep so greatly that he would leave the rest of the flock to go tediously search for that one sheep, the sheep who perfectly blends into the hill country. It would be a virtually impossible task. Nevertheless, the Good Shepherd does the same for His sheep. As in the parable of the lost sheep in Luke 15:3-7, He would leave the 99 and go search for the one until He found it and restored it. How great are His mercies to us! It was humbling to read and reflect as we watched the parable imagery in this land. And to further imagine the lowliest of the people, who live their lives performing this task were the first to hear the good news of the incarnation. They, for a moment, could forget about their hard lives and instead be the privileged one to first rejoice over the birth of their Messiah, the one who was the rightful King of the Jews.
