Alan Neale

Writer • Speaker

Sermon “An Ode to Innocence & Innocents Lost & Regained”. October 15th 2023. Zion Episcopal, Washington, NC. The Rev. Alan Neale

I found preparing the sermon for this Sunday a peculiar and rare challenge. In my mind’s eye, I could see the innocent twins that I would baptize but I also could see the horrific images of babies burned by Hamas terrorists. In this war between Israel and Hamas (as in many wars), we are confronted by not only the loss of innocence but also by the loss of innocents (both a state of being as well as personal loss). The only constant I could find was the text from Isaiah 25:7; I was comforted by both the reality of the text and by its promise of relief… one day, one day, one day.

The sermon text is below the sermon video.

Click here for video: https://zionepiscopal.com/Sermon%20Videos/twentieth-sunday-after-pentecost-10-15-2023-neale.html

Sermon preached at Zion Episcopal, Washington NC
October 15th 2023
The Reverend Alan Neale
“An Ode to Innocents & Innocence Lost and Regained”

Isaiah 25:7 “And he will destroy on this mountain the shroud that is cast over all peoples, the sheet that is spread over all nations”. The Message translation, “But here on this mountain, God-of-the-Angel-Armies will banish the pall of doom hanging over all peoples, the shadow of doom darkening all nations.”

I want you to imagine a sweet, young choirboy, the epitome of innocence– in red cassock, white surplice and a cuff around his neck. He has not long been going to church but he listens as attentively as possible. One Sunday, he hears the Collect (that we heard a few minutes ago) that contains these words, “Lord, may your grace always prevent and follow us.” “Follow” yes, but “prevent”. This sweet, young, innocent choirboy thought about this often until he asked the Vicar, and the Vicar explained, “Oh, Alan… prevent means go before us, from the Latin prevenire”. At last, I understood.

So small, so innocent – well, most of the time.

Today we need not imagine, we see with our own eyes the glorious innocence of the twins we are about to baptize in the name of God, the twins we are about to welcome into the family of God – Morgan Elizabeth and Tillie Mae. It does our souls good to behold this innocence – though, maybe Taylor and Joshua would tell us a slightly different story of innocence in reality.

Innocence gained, innocence lost – well, at least from time to time.

For centuries at deathbeds and wedding altars, in personal and public devotion Psalm 23 has presented to us the innocence of the good, kind and caring shepherd. We like this… we absorb it… we drink of it deeply. And yet, look more closely and intently, we observe talk of a staff that vigorously fights to defend the sheep, we are confronted by the reality of enemies so very close at hand and of death itself. Innocence – and yet the shroud, the veil hover close at hand.

We like this talk of innocence… we absorb it… we drink of it. Our hearts are revived as Paul challenges us to rejoice; and in case we miss the challenge, he says, “And again I say rejoice”. And how, why is this possible…? “The Lord is at hand, very near.”

And yet the innocence of this challenge confronts the venue in which Paul issues the call; he is locked in prison. This man given to wandering the Ancient world is restricted in his movements; this man who loves to share the Gospel of His Lord, must limit his zeal to the soldiers guarding him. Innocence – and yet the shroud, the veil hover close at hand.

(In all that I have shared with you, I want you to understand this tension, almost this conflict, between innocence and harsh reality.)

Friends, it truly is a part of life, a part of our journey that our delight and dalliance with innocence is often overshadowed by a gruesome veil, by a deathly shroud of grief, of loss; it seems to hover so often, so close at hand. These shrouds, these veils of which Isaiah speaks seem much too much, and far too often, worn by us as we profoundly grieve the loss of innocence (the state) but also innocents (the people).

In Exodus 1 the heartless, inhumane Pharaoh commands the extinction of every little boy – a veil, a shroud is cast over us.

[In Numbers 31, Moses (ever to our puzzlement) commands that all women and children be killed in a Midianite city – a veil, a shroud is cast over us.

In Psalm 137, in the face of fierce and rapacious attack, the Psalmist urges that the children of the enemy be dashed against a stone – a veil, a shroud is cast over us.]

In Matthew 2, King Herod orders the massacre of infants, all born under two – a veil, a shroud is cast over us.

In the light of the veil and the shroud that we have experienced these past days watching with pain the horrors of life in Israel and Palestine, it is all the more urgent that we celebrate these two young ladies about to enter the family of God.

We rejoice that the promise of the Lord God is that “here, on this holy mountain of Zion, He will banish the pall of doom and the shadow of dread darkening all nations.”

Friends, this place today, this holy Zion of prayer and praise is where the Lord will continue the process of lifting the veil, of raising the shroud.

Can you feel it in process? This is a promise of the Lord God and He does not lie.

So, though we have and will grapple with the tragic loss of innocence of mind and brutal destruction of innocents of people – we will dare still to be those who rejoice… because the Lord is at hand and one these wretched veils and shrouds will be removed for ever.