Preacher, preach the truth tomorrow morning. The Way, the Truth, and the Life.
Let the preacher tell the truth.
Let him make audible the silence of the news of the world with the sound turned off so that in that silence we can hear the tragic truth of the [Good News], which is that the world where God is absent is a dark and echoing emptiness;
and the comic truth of the [Good News], which is that it is into the depths of his absence that God makes himself present in such unlikely ways and to such unlikely people that old Sarah and Abraham and maybe when the time comes even Pilate and Job and Lear and Henry Ward Beecher and you and I laugh till the tears run down our cheeks.
And finally let him preach this overwhelming tragedy by comedy, of darkness by light, of the ordinary by the extraordinary, as the tale that is too good not to be true because to dismiss it as untrue is to dismiss along with it that catch of the breath, that beat and lifting of the heart near to or even accompanied by tears, which I believe is the deepest intuition of truth we have.
(Telling the Truth: The Gospel as Tragedy, Comedy and Fairy Tale, by Frederick Buechner. Paragraphing and emphasis mine.)