Confessions of a Christian Agnostic

December 24

So here we are again
on this cold and starry (snowy) night.
All set to hear the story,
imagining the sight
of twinkling star and wisemen three
of shepherds round the manger
of baby Jesus safe and warm,
isolated from all danger.
Let's all sit safely back
and softly close our eyes
and listen while I share
a story filled with lies.
Oh, excuse me please,
I had no wish to set this holy scene
by being gauche or rude or curt,
certainly not by acting mean.
Its just that after 20 years and more
of telling this ancient plot,
I've come to realize for me
what is true and what is not.
So if you're eager to be hearing
on this beautiful Christmas Eve
a tale to make you sigh and weep,
you may now wish to leave.
For what I plan on telling
with the little time I'll use
is a story few, given the choice,
would ever dare to choose.
Its a story that I do believe
is what our God intended
but for reasons known and unknown
its become uncomprehended.
We've turned the tale of Jesus
upside down and inside out.
So the story of his coming
ain't about what its about.
We've dressed it up with twinkling lights
and Santa with his reindeer
and used it to sell everything
from toys to cars to beer.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not the Grinch
who stole the Christmas story.
But since we are in church tonight,
reflecting on God's glory,
why not hear the tale again as told
complete with pain and barnyard stink
and allow ourselves the luxury
of a good old Christmas think.
Let's start with the thought
that may come as a surprise
that God has chosen to become
a babe before our eyes.
Now I find this intriguing
as I listen to friends and foe
tell me that Christian worship
is the last place they would go.
They tell me that they worship God
amidst the forest and the trees
and that they have no need ever
for getting down upon their knees.
They tell me with a smile and laugh,
they wink and then they nod
and say with a sweep of their arm,
"All this is now my God!"
I guess they mean the mountains,
I suspect they mean the sea
but, truth to tell, there's so much more.
At least, there is for me.
For although I will not argue
that our God is in creation,
it seems as if we've left God out
of the human situation.
If God is only found among
the rocks and babbling brook,
then humankind doesn't appear to be
worth a second look.
But what we celebrate tonight,
why we sing out in boisterous joy,
is that our God chose to come
not as a tree but as a boy!
What this means for one and all,
for believers and for those who don't
is that our God is there for those
who will and those who won't.
The first message of this holy night,
the one that has already now begun
is God not only loves the rocks and trees
but God loves everyone.
Now if God loves one and all tonight,
if that is really and totally true,
then that means God not only loves me
but God must also love even you.
And if God loves me and God loves you
and everyone else that's here,
does that mean the almighty loves
those who have no Christmas cheer?
Does God love those who live away
in distant far off places?
Does God love those who look at us
with strange and different faces?
Oh, its easy, don't you think,
to love a rock or tree.
It gets a bit more difficult
when God loves our enemy.
And what is worse, so very worse,
in the Bible is the claim
that we are called as Christians
to do the very same.
So, like I said, if you were hoping
to hear only a story sweet and light,
you're bound to be disappointed,
you'll want to put things right.
You may even choose, I suppose you could,
to stop listening at this point
or look around at the exits
for ways to flee the joint.
But for those who now are willing
to dig deeper into the plot,
let's see if we can discover
what our God tonight has wrought.
"Can't we shut it out
for just this little time
and go back to a different,
more Christmasy kind of rhyme?"
I suppose we could choose
to go on pretending
that Christianity is all about
peace and happily ever ending.
But, in point of fact,
or so it seems to me,
the story that begins tonight
soon takes him to a tree.
He's killed for not staying
all cute and cuddly and sweet.
He's killed because he hangs out
with those we'd rather never meet.
He's killed, you see, for doing
what he calls us all to do.
That's why we'd rather skip this part.
I would and so would you.
But then we'd have but only
just a part of the holy tale
and that, I am convinced,
is where we always fail.
When all we want are pretty angels
and to wish upon a star,
we have moved far away from Christ,
so very, very far.
Now I have friends as you do too
who I cherish and I love
but whose image of this holy night
is mired in relics from above.
What we should be extolling
on this night so holy and so silent
is a God who surely is aggrieved
at a world grown cold and violent.
For us all to pretend
on this frigid winter night
that everything is wonderful
just doesn't seem quite right.
For this past week has surely been,
in case you may have already forgot,
a miserable example of what
peace on earth is not.
Our bombs were ascending
over a dark Iraqi sky,
while congress was immersed
in who did or did not lie.
Our children must assuredly be
confused at the very least
when tomorrow we all sit down
to enjoy our Christmas feast.
We'll bow our heads,
our prayers we'll pray
that we can salvage something
from this Christmas day.
That out of all
the muck and mire,
we might discover
a small flame, a fire
to shine within these dark
and sad and woeful days
to give us hope,
to light our ways.
Yes, that's the ticket
and the perfect reason
to be celebrating
this Christmas season.
For even though the world is not
quite up to our expectation,
we can still rejoice tonight
at the gift of our salvation.
Our world need not be perfect,
our lives don't have to shine,
for God to share the miracle
of becoming human from divine.
This is grace amazing.
This is the news both good and great.
This is the very best of reasons why
we sing and celebrate.
Not to pretend that all is well
nor ignore the fear and sadness
but to realize that in the Christ
comes the source of Christian gladness.
To recognize that we are not alone,
that God is here abiding,
is to understand the Christmas truth,
that original glad tiding.
Tonight is not about pretending
that everything is fine.
Its not about inventing a life
all stable and sublime.
Instead I'll suggest right here
in this crude and amateurish verse,
Christmas is the promise that God
can bring good out of the very worse.
And that is why, I do believe,
our God came here to dwell.
And why we should sing tonight
of the gift Emmanuel.
Who loves us in our weakness,
who loves us even when we fail
and calls us in this worship
and through the ancient tale
to step out in faith and courage
to be bold and brave and free,
to remember that God has promised
to love them, and you and me.
Let tonight mark the beginning
of a fresh and holy quest
that has us united with each other,
indeed with all the rest
to work for peace and justice,
to seek equality for all,
to find ways for loving enemies
to forgive when others fall.
And that is why we gather
in this holy and crowded place
and sit so close together
and look in one another's face.
Because in you and me and everyone
who is here and who is not,
we'll find the essence of the message,
the teaching that Christ taught.
The babe whose birth we worship
tonight with songs of glory
is not limited to that ancient time
nor to this old, old story.
No, the Christ keeps a'coming
in wild and wondrous ways.
And our welcoming this savior
should occupy our days.
Not just one night, no matter
how beautiful the time,
not even if our preacher
writes out a Christmas rhyme.
The story of this season,
the reason for our telling,
although it sometimes may get lost
in Santa's jingle belling,
is that hidden amidst all of us
from adult to new-born child,
in those who believe or doubt,
the brave, the meek, the mild,
comes Christ the savior to our world
in new wonderful ways
to change our joy from just one night
to Christmas all our days.
So as you leave this place tonight
to join family and friends,
remember that this is the story
whose telling never ends.
It reappears in different forms.
This is the gospel truth.
It comes as John or Harry.
It comes as Sal or Ruth.
It comes in hope. It comes in peace.
It comes where there's forgiving.
It comes when we walk the walk.
It comes in Christ-like living.
So if you'd like this night of nights
to continue on tomorrow,
may I suggest one simple way
for making joy come out of sorrow?
Forget the need for perfect days,
for a perfect Christmas season
instead reflect tonight and more
upon the holy reason
of why God became real flesh
and dwells with me and you,
of why God chose to do this thing,
so wondrous and so true.
Not just two thousand years ago,
not just in our ancient youth,
but right here, right now, among us
and that's the Christmas truth.
So with that I end my rhyming
and I suspect you are quite glad
That is if you haven't already left
in a huff, perhaps angry, maybe even mad.
But I told what I felt we needed
to set the record right
regarding the real reason
we gather on this night.
So here I stop with but three words
to finish up this poem.
Ponder them for a time
when you're heading off for home.
Three words to savor not just tonight
but every day hereafter.
Three words to contemplate
with joy, with tears, in laughter.
You are loved. That's it. That's all.
There's nothing more to say.
Its why tonight seems holy
but then so should every day.