To change that, Jesus the Messiah came into a messy world, when raw power ruled the day. The man who wielded the sword was king. The ordinary people on the streets and in the fields went about their daily existence, often with great difficulty.

Democracy, though it had been conceived and idealised in ancient Athens, was not practised in Rome. In many places, life could best be described in the words of 17th-century English philosopher Thomas Hobbes: “No arts, no letters, no society, and which is worst of all, continual fear and danger of violent death, and the life of man solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.”

Life was indeed poor, nasty, brutish, and short for many. And so it must have been for the poor shepherds who watched their flocks in the cold Judean night near Bethlehem (Luke 2:8-20).

And it was to them, that the angels announced the good news of the Messiah’s birth, and the heavenly choir sang about divine glory and human peace. And so the shepherds went into Bethlehem and found the baby lying in a manger. Though the stable where Jesus was found was the humblest of places, the shepherds knew in their hearts that this was a special baby. They were convinced that what they saw and heard when heaven opened and the angels came was true.

The shepherds must have felt at home in the humble stable. As people who lived in poverty, it was the kind of place to which they were accustomed. Just as well that Jesus was not born in a palace lined with gold and silver. They would not have gained entry.

And even if they had been allowed in, they would have felt terribly out of place. The greedy among them would have had their eyes glued to the luxurious accessories instead of the baby. But the stable was a place that poor and simple people could relate to.

The shepherds returned to their flocks and to their poor lives with a new spirit. They were glorifying and praising God.

Their difficult circumstances may not have changed, but they were changed men.

Jesus was not afraid of the mess. He could have tried to save us while remaining safely in heaven. But He did not stay at a safe distance. Instead, He came down: “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us” (John 1:14).

Jesus emptied himself and took the form of a servant. He became vulnerable. He touched lepers without gloves. He took on a life of poverty. He had no place to call His own. He did not even carry money with Him. He experienced what it meant to be homeless and poor. He was beaten mercilessly, spat upon, and insulted. Then He was stripped and nailed to a rough cross to die a humiliating public death. He knew first-hand about the human condition.

As we celebrate Christmas this year, our celebrations may well be coloured by the pessimism and anxieties we see around us. War, economic uncertainties, worries about the future . . . we seem to be living in an era of bad news.

In Christ we have the Saviour, the Messiah. Looking at this world without the Messiah turns our lives and our distant horizons into darkness. But when we look at the Messiah, we see the light in the darkness.

John declared: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5).