Silent Witness

a homily delivered by Rev. Khleber M Van Zandt V at First Unitarian Church of Alton on Christmas Eve, 2008

You’ve heard them, these improbable ancient legends:

--  legends that tell of a young woman in trouble, denied by her family, pushed out by her community, all for committing the peculiar crime of believing in love;

--  legends that tell of a young man, hardly able to fathom what the young woman says about how she got this way, caring enough for her that he plots to save both their reputations as best he can;

--  legends that tell of an intervening angel – a ghost? a cipher? the Spirit of God? – a mysterious force come to make it right for the young woman and the young man and all the rest.  Will anyone listen?  Have they ever?  When will they hear the truth?

The legends tell of a journey by foot and by pack animal to the man’s ancestral home, and of the rejection there that leads to a lowly birthplace for an infant destined to change the world;

The legends tell of the lowliest of shepherds who watch the stars and their sheep by night, who leave their posts and seek hope in the previously unimaginable;

The legends tell of wise seekers who travel afar to bow down in the soiled straw of a shabby stable and offer ridiculously expensive gifts to a poor child of immigrants;

The legends tell of a young mother who witnessed all these things and held onto them silently in her heart.

 

These improbable ancient legends ask us to accept, on faith, stories whose details were not, are not, cannot be true – historically, there was no census; astronomically, a star hovering over a manger is a physical impossibility; realistically, who among us has ever had a conversation with an angel? 

The hope of any of these things occurring is miniscule at best.

And yet, and yet. 

As much as the details trouble us, as much as our rational minds push away at the improbabilities of the ancient legends, as much as our beloved reason rejects the mythical flavor of such unbelievable fairy tales, we find ourselves wondering nonetheless.

It would not be so if no young woman ever found herself in trouble and believing in love.

It would not be so if no young man ever doubted or acted selflessly for a moment.

It would not be so if nothing ever seemed to intervene in the events of this world.

It would not be so if no journey home ever led to rejection.

It would not be so if none of the lowliest of us ever sought hope in the previously unimaginable.

It would not be so if none of the wisest of us ever bowed to a greater mystery.

It would not be so if none of us had ever witnessed a miracle and held onto it silently in our hearts.

 

This is a night when legend becomes invitation, when miracles dance before us in candlelight, when the faces of children are full of wonder, when the truth of a glory that shown round about seems just there. 

In the silence of this night,

Accept the invitation. 

Witness the miracle.  

Feel the wonder.