Luke 1:5-25; 57-80
My family has been waiting a long time. My brother and sister-in-law got married in June of 2012, and we knew they both wanted to have kids; the question was only going to be when. As the years went by and we watched them live their full lives: my brother is a lawyer, and my sister-in-law was completing her education to become a neurologist, and on weekends they were both flitting across the country to work at Comic-cons; our hopes that they would have a child dimmed. We all thought they loved their lives too much the way they were to make room for a baby. And we loved them, and we said that as long as they were happy, that was okay. And we went on with our lives. But then, suddenly, on Mother’s Day this year, the phone call came. My brother called and asked me, “Which do you prefer, Aunt or Auntie?” Stunned into silence for a moment, I then said, “Wait, what?” And he gave me the good news that my sister-in-law was pregnant; they were going to have a baby! But as wonderful as this news was, it meant several more months of waiting: waiting to find out if they were going to have a boy or a girl—it’s a boy, we know now—and now, we are still in the midst of waiting: waiting to meet this new baby boy for the first time, and waiting to hear the proud parents tell us what his name is, and waiting to hold him and to welcome him into our family. Waiting is not easy when you’re looking forward to something happening.
Zechariah and Elizabeth were waiting, too; probably for a lot longer than seven years. Having children was very important in first-century Jewish culture. It was not sinful if you didn’t have children—that’s very important to note—because our Scriptures are full of women who were called by God who did not have children; or at least, the Scriptures did not feel it important to tell us if they did. But still, having children was important, and if you were a woman who was married and who wanted a child, but could not have one, then you probably would have the same feelings that women today in the same situation have: sadness, perhaps wondering what is wrong with you, being envious of women who did have children, and so on and so forth. But Zechariah and Elizabeth seemed to have made peace with the fact that they were getting older and past the age of childbearing. And then, on that fateful day in the Temple, when it was Zechariah’s turn to serve, an angel appeared and said, “Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard.”
What was the prayer that Zechariah prayed that had been heard? I don’t think it was a prayer for a child, because Zechariah expresses doubt that he and Elizabeth could conceive; unless it was a prayer that Zechariah had uttered a long time ago that was just now being answered. Perhaps he was praying for the salvation of his people from their enemies, as the Romans were now occupying the land of Judea and had installed their puppet king, Herod, in Jerusalem. Perhaps he was praying for the Messianic age to come soon, of which his son, John the Baptist, would be the herald. Whatever Zechariah was praying for, the answer to his prayer came in the form of the angel Gabriel announcing to him that he and Elizabeth were going to have a baby, who would “be great in the sight of the Lord,” who would “be filled with the Holy Spirit,” and “who would turn many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God”.
This is good news that the angel Gabriel brings to Zechariah; news that he would normally want to tell everyone. But the irony is that he can’t. Because Zechariah expressed doubt that the angel’s words would come true, Gabriel gets huffy, says, “How dare you disbelieve me!” and strikes him mute. I’ve always wondered at this, because Mary will later ask Gabriel the same question, and Gabriel lets her go. And in the Old Testament, Sarah, another woman who had a miraculous baby when she was old, laughed in God’s face when it was announced to her, and yet God did not strike her for disbelieving. What was it about Zechariah that rankled the angel so? I’m afraid I haven’t heard a good answer for that question yet, and the only possibility that I can think of is that there must have been something about Zechariah’s attitude that just rubbed the angel the wrong way. Whatever the case, Zechariah now has good news to share that he is unable to, since he has lost his voice, and he goes out to the people who were waiting for him and tries to pantomime what has happened to him.
As I reflect on Zechariah wanting to share the good news with his people and being unable to speak, I think of the irony that we find ourselves in today. We have good news to share and, even though we are able to speak, we don’t want to share the good news. And we have even better news than Zechariah had. Zechariah received the promise of a baby who would grow up to be the herald of the Messiah, who would be born not long after John was. We have the great good news of Jesus, God in the flesh, to share with the people we encounter daily. God loved us so much that God, the Word, became human, a real human being that could be seen and touched, and who was born just like we are, who experienced our physical problems and our emotions, who knows us intimately, who loves us so much that he went to die on the cross for us to set us free from our sins, who rose from the dead, who loves us just as we are, who promises us eternal life. And we are silent. Why do we keep this to ourselves?
As I ask myself that question, the answer I come up with is fear. We are afraid: we are afraid of looking foolish in front of others, afraid of being seen as a “zealot”, or afraid of sharing our innermost experiences with others because they might laugh. Do you know that probably the most common command to us in Scriptures is, “Do not be afraid”? We all could probably recite most of the Ten Commandments from memory if given a chance, but we never remember this command that’s repeated more often: Do not be afraid. When we have Jesus as our Lord and our Savior, what do we have to be afraid of? We should be sharing the good news of Jesus in our conversations with others just like we share recommendations for weight loss programs, doctors, gyms, grocery stores, and other things that we talk about in our daily lives.
And that’s the other thing I wonder about, too: are we not excited about Jesus? Jeff and I went out to lunch a few days ago, and he struck up a conversation with the waitress about how excited he was about the music he’s playing for Christmas Eve, and he invited her to come to church and hear it. And as I was listening to him talk to this waitress, I said to myself, “If everyone were as excited as Jeff is and invited the person to whom they were talking to come to church and see Jesus, we could have more people in these pews every Sunday and on Christmas Eve.” If we’re not excited about Jesus and who he is and everything he’s done for us, then maybe we need to ask ourselves why, and why we even have a church anymore. Maybe we need to sit down and reflect about who Jesus is to us and why we believe in him and write out those faith statements that Pastor Mike and I have been talking about at our 4-church meetings. And then we can get out there and share our love and excitement for Jesus with others.
So, I’ll start. This is who Jesus is to me: both the Son of God, God-in-flesh, and Son of Man. He is, in some mysterious way that I can’t explain, both human and divine. I love the fact that I have a God who became human, who understands what it means to be me, who fully understands all the pain and suffering that I go through, and who loves me even when it seems like no one else does. And Jesus loves me so much that he went to the cross to die for me, and he promises me eternal life starting right from the moment I was baptized. Because of his resurrection, I have faith that I will see all of my loved ones who have gone before me again one day. And now, while I am here on earth, Jesus gives me a model of love to live by. There are days that I struggle with this: as much as I want to be like Jesus, I know I fail, and I fail often. And I trust that when I fail, Jesus is there to forgive me, and his Holy Spirit continues to urge me on and to try again. And so, I pray that I may follow Jesus with the strength that he gives me for the rest of my days here on earth.
Our friend Zechariah was released from his inability to speak when he declared, in writing, that the name of his son was John. And what a song he sang when he was able to speak again! He blessed the Lord—note that he didn’t yell at God for making him silent for these long months, but he blessed God. He prophesied about the savior who his son would point to in his ministry of baptism for repentance—that savior who would go to the cross for us. He sang about how God had not forgotten God’s people. He spoke of how light would come upon people who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, and how our feet would be guided in the ways of peace. This song is still part of our liturgy for morning prayer, and we have it as one of our hymns, #250, in our hymnal. Zechariah proclaimed the good news of Jesus long ago when he was released from silence. We, too, have been released from silence, and we are called to not be afraid and to speak and to sing of this good news to the world around us, who so desperately needs it. So, let us not be afraid, but let us go forth from here and speak the good news of Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior. Amen.
Moving North 