Alan Neale

Writer • Speaker

Sermon “Present in Darkness” Christmas Day 2023. Zion Episcopal Church, Washington, NC. The Reverend Alan Neale

It seems to me that this Christmas, I am reflecting on the interminable and inhuman march towards darkness; towards a place where words, actions, thoughts of “light” are dispelled and have no place. Lord, visit us. And yes, I am almost transfixed, by the way in which “an ancient joke often told” has such widespread influence and appearance!

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Sermon preached at Zion Episcopal Church, Washington NC; Christmas Day 2023
The Reverend Alan Neale; “Present and Able”

Am I the only one who has ever contemplated writing a novel? Not necessarily the great American novel, not necessarily the novel read by thousands upon thousands, not necessarily the novel that will shake the very tenets of literacy… but simply a novel. Am I the only nascent novelist?

On television and in movies, in novels and biographies I have studied the stark impact of writer’s block but surely, of all the blocks that pummel and bear down upon the novelist, the worst must be this… how do I begin?

I wonder if the writer of Luke’s Gospel spent hours, days, weeks contemplating the beginning of the story of God’s entry into humanity… a Gospel that was to share earth/heaven shattering news of a Divine Liberator entering upon the human stage; the redeeming broadcast of lives transformed; the triumphant announcement of a cosmic revolution towards grace and reconciliation.

Well, these are the magical words he used to usher in the birth of the Saviour… Luke 2:1-3 “In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. 2 This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. 3 All went to their own towns to be registered.”

Well, ummm, not quite the magical, mysterious, monumental words and opening I expected. And yet, and yet, I find myself almost excited (!) by this thought… that in the very tedious machinations of a tyrannical overlord; that in the impersonal, officious demands of bureaucracy… in all of this (lifeless and soulless though it seems)… it was here that God burst into the very limitations of humanity and, from a cradle as it were, opts to rule and sustain the cosmic universe.

In our attempts to prettify the stable setting, we opt to choose clean straw, to ensure no malodorous animal reminiscence, and to carefully place each figure so that all may see and be seen by the Christ-child. But, in our hearts, we just know that the venue for the baby’s entrée into humanity was noisy, smelly, wretched and unstable. But here it was, thank God, that the light bursts out, that life explodes, that divine majesty reigns and sweet relations are nurtured.

In all my experience of Christmas pageants, I (doubtless like you) have seen outre and ignoble activities. In a romantic and gorgeous Chapel, just before the Pageant begins, a local terrier called Willie rushes into church, scrambles down the aisle, finds the straw, blesses it in his own unique canine manner and then exits the church. I have seen a sweet and timid Mary pick up Joseph’s cane and then machine gun (with appropriate accompaniment) nearby shepherds. And I have seen young new born babies, placed with love by their parents, on altar steps perilously begin to rock and roll near precipice of step!

Yes, all this and more. And yet in each of these events, God has become experienced and known.

The prophet Isaiah (chapter 9) reminds each of us that no matter what the darkness, the light of God (the light of Christ) will shine and will establish its radiance.

Here is a story of almost cosmic significance and impact, similarly told in Hindu and Sufi writings and even by the political writer Noam Chomsky…

‘A policeman sees a man searching for something under a streetlight and asks what the man has lost. He says he lost his keys and they both look under the streetlight together. After a few minutes the policeman asks if he is sure he lost them here, the man replies, no, that he lost them in the park. The policeman asks why he is searching here, and the infamous reply “this is where the light is.”‘

(So historians, mystics, scientists and drunks have something in common: they all tend to seek the truth where the process of seeking is easy, rather than where truth is. Responses to this problem vary. The mystic is most likely trying to remind the listener of how limited human knowledge is, and how often we look for solutions in precisely the wrong places. The humanities professor Doniger uses the problem as a justification for reading between the lines: using the available light to speculate about what may lie in the darkness. And the cognitive scientist Chomsky seems to be using the problem to justify why scientists answer questions that are almost, but not quite, entirely unlike the questions they originally set out to answer.)

We can be so fearful of dark places that we crave the light, even though it is in darkness and fear and distress that God insists He will be found.

Christmas, Incarnation, the Word becoming flesh – all this gives us renewed courage and determination to find our life even where the dark appears to be supreme.

It is in tedious bureaucracy, it is in the basic requirements of life, it is in pathetic and poor stable, that God is to be found.

Let us find Him in places of surprise this week and next year! In our personal lives, in the life of Zion (this “little big church”) – please God, and in our nation and in our world.

In Christ’s name we pray, Amen