WHEN YOU HEAR the word “evangelist,” who or what comes to mind? For folks of my generation, it would probably be Billy Graham. Or one might picture a person standing on a street corner, preaching to passersby or handing out tracts. When I was in college, the local evangelist would stand on the steps of the Student Union Building, preaching his “turn or burn” messages and occasionally spitting on the ground as if for emphasis. I don’t know how many people he reached that way; some students listened, some heckled, some shouted back.

But have you ever noticed that in the center of the word “evangelist” is the word “angel”? That’s not an accident. Both words can be traced all the way back to the Greek word angelos. Though it’s usually used of heavenly beings like Gabriel, the more general meaning of the word is simply “messenger.” Angels are thus God’s message bearers, but human beings can be too. Jesus, for example, once quoted the prophet Malachi: “I will send my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way before you” (Matt 11:10; Mal 3:1). He was referring, of course, to John the Baptist; in Matthew’s Greek, John is angelos, even though he’s not an angel.

By extension, then, an “evangelist” is also a messenger, one who specifically brings a “good message,” or as we typically say it, the “good news.” The word “gospel” also means “good message” or “good news” but has a different etymology.

One could say that the angel of God—again, possibly Gabriel—was the first evangelist. When the angel suddenly appeared to the shepherds, they were at first afraid. But as you’ll recall, the angel responded with these words of comfort:

Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.” (Luke 2:10-12, NIV)

“I bring you good news,” the angel said. Or, if you like, “I evangelize”—what the New International Version translates as “I bring good news” is one word in the Greek. But in Luke’s story, the first human evangelists were the shepherds. I imagine they were rather overwhelmed by it all. Who wouldn’t be overwhelmed by the appearance of a whole company of heavenly beings? At some point, however, they seem to have recovered their composure. Luke writes:

When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.” (Luke 2:15)

The angels finish their chorus of praise and leave. I picture the shepherds breathing hard, trying to calm down after such an experience of both terror and wonder. But they heard and understood what the angel told them, and take it as a message from God. The angel didn’t explicitly tell them to go into Bethlehem, but what are you supposed to do when an angel gives you a concrete sign? It didn’t take the shepherds long to decide that they had to go see for themselves.

So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told. (vss. 16-20)

Just as Mary hurried to see Elizabeth after hearing from an angel, so too did the shepherds hurry to find Mary, Joseph, and the baby. Presumably, they left at least one person behind to watch the sheep. And who knows how long it took for them to get to the city itself and then find the baby in a manger? Luke tosses all of that off in one sentence. He seems more concerned with how the shepherds responded to what they saw.

This wasn’t a strategic evangelistic outreach; it seems the shepherds simply couldn’t help themselves. They had just been through an amazing experience, and they had been told amazing things which they had confirmed with their own eyes. They had to tell other people what they had seen and heard; in so doing, they passed the amazement on to others. This baby: Savior, Messiah, Lord. Could it be? The shepherds spontaneously spread the good news they had received from the angel, and like the heavenly host, gave God the glory and praise.

Mary, meanwhile, turned inward, guarding and pondering these things in her heart. She had experienced her own signs: Elizabeth’s pregnancy and unexpected words of blessing, and now, the birth of her own child, in Bethlehem, the place from which the Messiah was expected to come. Did she and Joseph know about the ancient prophecy (see Matt 2:6; Mic 5:2-4)? When she heard about the imperial decree, did she sense that this was God’s plan for getting her to Bethlehem? Maybe.

But for all her faithfulness, we shouldn’t assume that she understood or anticipated everything that was happening. What the shepherds said and did told her that God was sending his heavenly messengers to other people who had their own part to play in the unfolding drama. Her part was to be the mother of the Savior; the shepherds’ part was to be the first evangelists. None of them were people of any status; all of them praised God for the favor he had shown them.

After this, Luke moves the shepherds out of the spotlight and the drama carries on without them. Who knows how their lives changed after that night or to whom else they told their story? But it’s fair to imagine, I think, the ripple effects that radiated through the town because of one amazing tale told on one amazing night.