Zechariah's Song

Zechariah’s Story
Luke 1: 5-24, 57-79

I want to tell you a story. Its not my story it is Zechariah’s story. Here it is…in his words…

Have you ever experienced something so hard and so amazing, something so unexpected so brilliant, so painful, so transformative that all you could do at the end of the day is sing?
I have. And I know it sounds crazy – I’m not really the singing type – but after what I went through there was a song within me – a song of praise, a song of hope a song of peace.

As a baby was growing within my wife Elizabeth, that song grew within me for nine months…it was created, it was nourished and it evolved and changed shape and size, I felt it growing, I felt it getting stronger and pushing me from within…so much so that it hurt. I knew it was a song that had to be sung but it wasn’t as easy as opening my mouth. There was pain, real pain, and terrible fear not only of the song but of what the song meant for my life. What it would change, what it would demand of me, how it would make me so vulnerable and yet so strong…

You see it all began on an ordinary day. I know, people always start that way, but its true. I am not one of those guys who led a rebellious life of sin or intrigue…I have always been a man of faith. Like many of you, I imagine. I thought I was living a pretty good life, a faithful life. I loved God, I am a priest- I committed my life to God and it was even written about me and my wife Elizabeth that we were and I quote

righteous before God, living blamelessly according to all the commandments and regulations of the Lord (Luke 1:6)

Which basically meant that in our daily lives, we crossed our T’s we dotted our I’s – we paid our bills on time, we were always at worship, we stood, we sung the songs - Elizabeth did I just mouthed the words, we said the prayers, we gave our tithe…we followed the rules. We had a pretty good life. Mostly. We had never been able to have a child…and we didn’t understand and we got angry at each other and at God and at ourselves. We had prayed for a baby as do probably all families who struggle this way. But as we grew older, we had grown used to the reality. I say that because we hadn’t found peace with it. Well I hadn’t. It was a big deal to “carry on the name” …and while my daily life was lived righteous and blameless…much of it was just habit because deep down there wasn’t much that was right. I was mad at God and at Elizabeth and myself too. Elizabeth and I had spent years praying for a child and nothing. And as I looked at the world I saw more nothing…as I called it, you might say unanswered prayers. The Roman government was strong and cruel, and while things were better for us than they had been for our ancestors who were exiled to Babylon – the Romans let us practice our faith and culture – the taxes they imposed were so steep that farmers and the poor were struggling to survive and the tax collectors would often make threats and take more than the government required. One day I really let one of them have it, I told a tax collector he was evil, a sinner through and through and there was no place in the house of God for one like him. There was corruption everywhere and I was powerless to do anything about it. I might have been blameless and righteous in my living but that is only because I took all of my anger, my frustration, my blame, hopelessness, and fear and allowed them to take up residence in my heart, and my spirit.

Work was frustrating too. Don’t get me wrong I took great joy in serving God through the rituals and instructions of our law, but there were many priests and I was just a number…in the priesthood there were a few rare opportunities to enter into the sacred places of the temple – where you can truly serve God by offering a ritual on behalf of many others. I think opportunities like this were the reason, besides family pressure of course, that I entered into the priesthood.

There were 24 groups of priests and each group rotated through temple duty. We worked for one full week, twice a year. It was time for my group’s duty. Part of the priesthood’s responsibility is to offer sacrifices twice day, then to clear the ashes from the alter. A sacrifice was offered on both the outer alter and the inner alter. The inner alter was in the sanctuary – one lone priest offered the sacrifice and burnt the incense in there in the presence of God. Because there were so many of us and because it was such an awesome privilege to enter into the sanctuary to offer a sacrifice – we kept a list of those priests who had yet to enter in. Year after year, my name had remained on that list. We threw lots to determine who would enter, and without a doubt I’d lose. I’d watched my mentors enter, I’d watched friends enter, I’d even seen those who I had mentored enter in to stand in the presence and offer up a sacrifice to God, while I waited outside. I so longed to be in the presence of God but the years passed and my day had never come. A few of the other priests suggested that I hadn't been chosen because I wouldn't sing. Often readings were sung, by a group of men along with the orchestra and while I did all my responsibilities faithfully, singing was not for me, and who knows maybe they were right. Maybe that was why at my old age, after my lifetime of service I had not had the honor of offering a sacrifice to God. It just felt so ingenuous, singing – putting contrived notes to holy words…it sounded better, the music affected people on a deeper level but who was I to sing the notes of God? Maybe it was because I was childless, maybe because I felt God overlooked me – I just couldn’t bring myself to sing.

But then it happened. I threw the lots and it was my turn to enter the sanctuary. It was truly the most sacred moment of my ministry-of my life-as I walked past the others…a large group stood outside praying as I entered in. The job was pretty routine, make a fire here, remove ashes, kneeling and prostrating on the ground…ordinary job but extraordinary experience of humility and joy and purpose! But then something wasn’t right. On the right side of the alter of incense, someone else was there! At first I was furious, this was to be my holy time with God-only one priest enters into the sanctuary to offer the sacrifice. I quickly realized, however, that it wasn’t another priest, I can’t describe it really it was like nothing I had ever seen before, I was so frightened, my mind and body were overwhelmed with fear. But then he spoke,

“Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard.

My prayer, what prayer? The prayer to be in the sanctuary,thanks I know.

Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you will name him John.

Elizabeth, my Elizabeth, she’s too old, we’re too old.

14You will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth, 15for 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. 16He will turn many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God. 17With 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.”

…To make ready a people prepared for the Lord…Wow… I was trying to process it all, but it didn’t make any sense. Was I hallucinating? This couldn’t be happening. We will never have a child. God hasn’t heard our prayers, God doesn’t care. God just wants us to follow the laws or else, right? If God cared, why would people live in fear of violence, why would there be wars, why would our people have been exiled, why would we have ever been in slavery…this has got to be some kind of a joke, besides we’re old…its too late…someone is playing a trick on me…

“How will I know that this is so? For I am an old man, and my wife is getting on in years.”

That didn’t seem to go over very well,

“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. 20But 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.”

And everything went…silent…

I could no longer hear the crowds outside, I tried to recant my question to Gabriel, to say, “no I didn’t mean it, sure that’s great, a son!” but I couldn’t speak and he then he was gone. I sat in the sanctuary for a long while…alone…I tried to yell, I tried to whisper, I cleared my throat, I coughed and tried again…silence. Finally, I went outside where it was clear the crowd had grown anxious at my delay. I tried a little charades and they seemed to understand something amazing had happened but I wasn’t even sure of that… Can it be true? Do I want it to be true? But this was no dream, I couldn’t speak, I could barely hear. When the week was over I went home and Elizabeth and I conceived a child, a miracle, I was so full of love and joy but I couldn’t tell her that I loved her. I was so thankful that our prayers had been answered but I couldn’t shout my thanksgiving to God for this gift. I remained silent.

All I could hear were Gabriel’s words, his promise of a boy to be called John…but also of the task set out for this child: turning the people of Israel to God, turning the hearts of parents to their children, the disobedient to wisdom…and to go before and make ready a people
John. My son, John, He will go before him…he will make ready a people prepared for the Lord.
I spent my silence wondering what it all meant. Prepare the way of the Lord, if the Lord is coming how should a people be made ready? This was an impossible task…the world was so corrupt, how could John make ready the way for the Lord? Since I could not speak and could barely hear I watched people, I saw the way they treated each other. When you watch people but cannot hear them you see their true intentions, emotions. And what I saw disgusted me: I saw lies and sin and deception, I witnessed power struggles and hostility that led to violence, I looked deeply into the eyes of the corrupt – the governments tax collectors and even those in the priesthood who were there for their glory not for God. There was so much that was wrong with the world, so much to point a finger at, so much to disapprove to classify or judge as sin. I was a voice of reason but God had taken my voice. I couldn’t tell anyone to shape up, I couldn’t tattle on the disingenuous priests, I couldn’t make opposing sides understand where the other was coming from…I watched hope crumble into fear, fear build into anger and anger manifested in violence. The world was dark, there was sin and death everywhere…A moment of hope was trampled by my own fear and judgments –I was consumed with the fighting and conflict, the power-seeking, hoarding and greed…how could this people ever be ready for God. They don’t care about God – they just want what is best for themselves…a people prepared for God is a people of peace. But we’ll never get there. Everyone is too full of complaints and upholding the status quo to work for something different, something better…

They complain about the world but then they act in just the same way. Speaking harsh words, judging, taking power, fighting…

…Silence…
And I remembered the day I yelled at the tax collector.

…Silence…

I felt the anger I had towards those with many children in all our years of having none

…silence…

I saw how my judgments of others kept me from seeing them as children of God

…silence…

…and I realized in my silence that something was changing inside of me. I didn’t have the words, which was fine because I couldn’t speak them anyway…but everytime I thought of John…when I heard Gabriel’s words, when I imagined the way John was preparing…I felt a stillness…a calm…I guess you could say a glimpse of peace…and I remembered the scripture from the prophet Malachi…

See, I am sending my messenger to prepare the way before me, and the Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to his temple. The messenger of the covenant in whom you delight—indeed, he is coming, says the LORD of hosts. 2But who can endure the day of his coming, and who can stand when he appears?

For he is like a refiner’s fire and like fullers’ soap; 3he will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver, and he will purify the descendants of Levi and refine them like gold and silver, until they present offerings to the LORD in righteousness

Is this messenger my son? A refiner’s fire – refining the people like gold and silver…I don’t know too much about refining metal but I have heard before that the difference between refining precious metals and some other processes is that when you refine silver in fire – nothing changes…the make-up of the metal stays the same – it is simply purified, the way God created it.

There have been days that I have tried so hard to speak, I have yelled and screamed and wept until my throat and my spirit were burning in pain and despair first from what I saw in the world but then as the silence drug on, by what I saw I myself. It has been painful, especially when I realized the darkness of the world can also be found within me. But as Elizabeth’s stomach continued to swell it was like there was a candle lit within me, bringing light into the darkness…but it was still a flame, I felt it burning but instead of screaming out in pain, my silence led me deep into prayer, fervently seeking God like a deer for water…

And I found something…a word, a tune, it sounded like…well it sounded like peace –

When I see the conflict of the world whether in my home, my place of worship or my community, I cannot simply expect peace or even with for peace – to truly pray for peace I have to live in peace. How can I expect my son to create the way for the Lord, to create a way of peace if I am conflicted? No, you see his work, his partnership with God has already begun…the refining fire of love has led me to peace – within myself. For that is where it begins. I cannot expect the tax collectors to act mercifully if I do not grant them mercy. This child that is coming has led me into the fire…not so that I would be changed into something different but so that I would be my best self…the Zechariah that God created me to be.

The day came and Elizabeth gave birth to our child. I have felt so much during my silence…confusion, anger, lonliness, fear, anxiety, frustration…but when I saw his face for the first time there was something new within me, something whole. I saw God…not just in the face of this child, but everywhere…in people – family and friends yes, but also in strangers, Romans, Jews, young and old…I saw them all as children of God, like John, this holy child of God.

That night I prayed, still silently, but in my heart I asked God to forgive me. To forgive me for my selfishness, to forgive me for my anger, to forgive me for my closed mindedness…and as I thanked God for answering my prayers, I made one more request…help me to remain, to abide here – in this place…grant me peace God so that I may accompany my child as he prepares the way for you.

Eight days later, Elizabeth and I took John to be circumcised. Most of our family was there and they were all talking about naming him Zechariah after me, Elizabeth tried to tell them his name was John but no one listened to her. I got so mad, it was like all these months of silence had built up within me and I was ready to explode. Don’t you understand? Why can’t you see what God is doing here? You are all wrong! And in that moment God answered yet another prayer…and in the faces of those who were being rude, in the eyes of those who wouldn’t listen…there was God, and I loved them, because they are God’s children and I knew that it was these…the not-perfect folks, to whom my peace must be offered. I took a deep breath, I said, God grant me peace in my silence and I wrote down these words…

His name is John

And in that moment my mouth was opened, I could speak and I could hear…I’m sure you are wondering what the first thing was that I said. Well, I didn’t curse the angel for 9 months of silence, I didn’t cheer, I didn’t say, “I’m glad that is over.” The words that came out of my mouth were my words, they were the words that were left from the refiners fire…but I couldn’t even say them…in joy – in humility my voice did something it had never been able to do…it sang. That song, well…some called it a song of praise, others called it a prophesy...whatever it was it was my song of joy, my song of hope…my song of peace…

Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for he has looked favorably on his people and redeemed them. 69He has raised up a mighty savior for us in the house of his servant David, 70as he spoke through the mouth of his holy prophets from of old, 71that we would be saved from our enemies and from the hand of all who hate us. 72Thus he has shown the mercy promised to our ancestors, and has remembered his holy covenant, 73the oath that he swore to our ancestor Abraham, to grant us 74that we, being rescued from the hands of our enemies, might serve him without fear, 75in holiness and righteousness before him all our days.

And then I turned to John and looking at him my joy wasn’t that he was my child but that he was God’s child and I thought about what he had done for me. I had denied that this moment would happen, and for that I fell into silence and began a journey from darkness to light…I watched this life come to be within Elizabeth and I came to know God, I sought forgiveness and I moved toward peace. And if he could do that for me before he was even born…he must be this messenger…and I continued my song…

76And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High; for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways, 77to give knowledge of salvation to his people by the forgiveness of their sins. 78By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us, 79to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.”

Maybe you think my story is old and has little to do with you, but I wrote it down because John’s work is not done. He followed his call:

“proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins” (Luke 3:3)

For this is the way to peace – this is the way we prepare for the coming of the Lord. Just as I discovered in my silence…God guided me through pain and struggle, through honesty and doubt, through fear and anxiety, judgment of others and ultimately judgment of myself…and in silence, in darkness I found the way to peace. It was always there…within me…and now that I have survived the refiner’s fire…I join John and his cousin Jesus and all those who are preparing the way for God on earth…guiding my feet, guiding our world and singing our way to peace.

-Rev. Selena A. Wright