5 In the days of King Herod of Judea, there was a priest named Zechariah, who belonged to the priestly order of Abijah. His wife was descended from the daughters of Aaron, and her name was Elizabeth. 6 Both of them were righteous before God, living blamelessly according to all the commandments and regulations of the Lord. 7 But they had no children because Elizabeth was barren, and both were getting on in years.
8 Once when he was serving as priest before God during his section’s turn of duty, 9 he was chosen by lot, according to the custom of the priesthood, to enter the sanctuary of the Lord to offer incense. 10 Now at the time of the incense offering, the whole assembly of the people was praying outside. 11 Then there appeared to him an angel of the Lord, standing at the right side of the altar of incense. 12 When Zechariah saw him, he was terrified, and fear overwhelmed him. 13 But the angel said to him, “Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you will name him John. 14 You will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth, 15 for he will be great in the sight of the Lord. He must never drink wine or strong drink; even before his birth he will be filled with the Holy Spirit. 16 He will turn many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God. 17 With the spirit and power of Elijah he will go before him, to turn the hearts of parents to their children and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous, to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.” 18 Zechariah said to the angel, “How can I know that this will happen? For I am an old man, and my wife is getting on in years.” 19 The angel replied, “I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I have been sent to speak to you and to bring you this good news. 20 But now, because you did not believe my words, which will be fulfilled in their time, you will become mute, unable to speak, until the day these things occur.”
21 Meanwhile the people were waiting for Zechariah and wondering at his delay in the sanctuary. 22 When he did come out, he was unable to speak to them, and they realized that he had seen a vision in the sanctuary. He kept motioning to them and remained unable to speak. 23 When his time of service was ended, he returned to his home.
24 After those days his wife Elizabeth conceived, and for five months she remained in seclusion. She said, 25 “This is what the Lord has done for me in this time, when he looked favorably on me and took away the disgrace I have endured among my people.”
-Luke 1:5-25 NRSVUE
Tomorrow Holds Today’s Unfulfilled Promises
I have been living in a dry land, but I remember a time when the world was verdant and vibrant. I would see something, and my imagination would peal back layers of meaning; God would reveal a multiverse! God was mischievously active, and I was very curious and expectant. In every one of those revelatory moments, I felt called into a new relationship and I loved to share what God had unveiled. I can’t really remember when life began to dull, when the colors began to fade, and time collapsed into the present moment, but in that moment Zechariah and I became one.
But that all ended when God opened this scripture to me. The words cried out to me, “Drink me.” They flew off the page saying, “Choose me, choose me.” How do we set ourselves in time? Luke used Herod. What if we didn’t define our place in time by someone else’s life? Similarly, what if we didn’t allow our earthly origins to define us? Luke tells us that Elizabeth was a daughter of Aaron, and that Zechariah was a son of Abijah. What benefit do we derive from being blameless and righteous if we remain barren? And for that matter, who do we blame for our barrenness? Luke laid that on Elizabeth.
Luke tells us that [John] will be from God, and the Holy Spirit will be with him before he is born. Luke [the angel] goes on to say all sorts of amazing things that will be associated with this child that hasn’t even been conceived. However, Zechariah and Elizabeth are old, and he is living in the present moment. (We’ve heard this story before.) Everything that Gabriel says is in the future tense. Will, will, will, will. But Zechariah is living in a dry land, and angels always evoke fear; and fear isolates us in time and strips us of our creativity.
“How will I know that this is so?” This is the part of the story that makes Advent so significant to us. Zechariah may have some earnest questions regarding his potency, but he is not talking about his wife conceiving a child. He is talking about a future that he does not expect to live long enough to see. “How will I know…” “that he will turn many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God.” “How will I know…” that the spirit and power of Elijah will rest upon him? “How will I know…” that he will turn the hearts of parents to their children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous, to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.’ Even if I become a father, “How will I know…?”
I’m going to claim the privilege of extending the text to make a point. Later on in the story, after John was born and Zechariah regained his ability to speak, he still didn’t know; and the chances are that he never would. Amazingly, he was a dad just like Abraham, but the angel’s foretelling of John’s impact on Israel was still out there as an unfulfilled promise. Nonetheless, Zechariah pitch perfectly broke into song. We call that song the Benedictus Dominus Deus. The truly amazing thing about his song is that he brings Gabriel’s future tense into the present tense. You can find his song on page 92 of the Book of Common Prayer 1979.
I can’t really remember when life began to dull, when the colors began to fade, and time collapsed into the present moment, but in that moment Zechariah and I became one. However, I remember when God restored the clarity and the color for which I longed and brought the promise to bear on my life. The promise was still out there and yet it was wonderfully present.
At its core, Advent is forward looking and timeless. It doesn’t matter if we are old. The promise is bigger than we are. It lives in our midst and fuels the hope that moves us forward. Advent saves us from the despair that can infect us when we can’t see beyond ourselves because it tells us that tomorrow always holds the unfulfilled promises of today.
The Rev. Dr. Mark Story
Rector
St. Mary’s Edmond