Recently I was introduced to the writing of Jon Fosse. The latest author to be awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature, this accolade was recognised by Pope Francis, who praised the Norwegian’s “gentle testimony of faith“. As a leading figure in the world of creative writing, who exchanged atheism for Catholicism some years ago, the pontifical praise for Fosse is hardly surprising. The quality of the prose in the books authored by Fosse is the most striking aspect of his work. The books can be surprisingly brief – A Shining comes to just 46 pages in the English translation. Even as a slow reader I managed to finish this novella over breakfast. However, it is a work that lingers in the imagination, shaped by writing which left me with a sense of shimmering uncertainty. It is a book that makes you wonder ‘what was all that about?’ (in a good way). In terms of spirituality and faith it achieves a credible doubt about our perceptions and consequently allows something beyond our understanding to glow at the periphery of vision. In the words of the Nobel judges Fosse gives ‘voice to the unsayable’. In A Shining the protagonist’s certainties and confidence suddenly evaporate, and time and again what seemed logical is found wanting. Into this scenario comes the strange light of a shining presence.

“I don’t write about characters in the traditional sense of the word. I write about humanity”

Fosse speaking to the French newspaper Le Monde in 2003.

It is not easy to offer a narrative of spiritual enquiry in a Western world that is deemed disenchanted and post-religious. The skill of Fosse is to develop his text with painstaking honesty about the uncertainty of what we see, and the apparently random events that intersect with our lives. To reflect the language of the season, Fosse follows his evolving story with a constant determination. It feels as though his commitment and skill to write whatever comes next, draws us into the wake of his quest. As Fosse said in an interview: “To me, writing is listening, not seeing.” As we read, we are allowed to discover what Fosse has heard.

Across the world the church is celebrating the Feast of the Epiphany. The shining star leads the Magi on an extensive journey. Thankfully, they are also discovering that their search for the meaning of this light did not conform to their expectations. At first they seek the new King in a palace. If they had lacked the flexibility to reassess their beliefs about sovereignty, then the mission to find the King might have ended there. Herod knew nothing about it – and how could a future King be born without the monarch’s knowledge? Their determination overruled the power of their assumptions. Having made the decision to follow the star, and allow it alone to denote sovereignty, they left their homes; walked away from a palace; departed from a capital city; quit imposing accommodation; and completed their journey in humble – but holy – circumstances. This could not have been an easy journey and TS Eliot concludes The Journey of the Magi with reflections that suggest abiding questions: ‘were we led all that way for Birth of Death?’

Expectations can have the power to obscure the presence of things that are surprising, novel or outside our experience. The risk is that familiarity shapes our world as we anticipate it to be, and we make our way through life imposing a pattern that demonstrates little recognition of the differences we encounter. When something breaks through our imposition of normality, it might be said that we experience an epiphany. A vision of reality re-ordered which questions our everyday certainties. The Bible is full of such moments and they are often far from being comfortable or comforting. Easier to lie, like Lazarus, in the shroud of endings, than be re-awakened to new life; new insights; or fresh possibilities.

The Magi allowed the star to reveal unexpected news. They took their gifts where the star commanded, bypassing palaces and people of honour. In the end, when they reached a simple home, they fulfilled their mission with obeisance and splendour. The circumstances were circumstantial. The wise had committed to their truth and followed unwaveringly where it led. It was their resolve to be undeflected in their purpose that led them to a foreign infant of doubtful parentage, in an insignificant town. The encounter – in Eliot’s poem – leaves them ill at ease with life when they return home. It is a reminder that away from the saccharine carols and excesses of Christmas there is a Word revealed that can, if we listen, release us from the captivating assumptions that tame our spirits.

But the child that is Noble and not Mild
He lies in his cot. He is unbeguiled.
He is Noble, he is not Mild,
And he is born to make men wild.

Extract from ‘Christmas’ by Stevie Smith