Zechariah has prayed these words his whole life.
The people are gathered outside. The incense is in his hands.
The liturgy is not new.
Generations of priests have stood where he stands, between the people and the Holy Place, lifting up the same prayers to the same God who made The Big Promise.
On this day, the lot has fallen to him. Off to the Temple to serve.
For an older priest in the days of Herod, this is his last call to this duty; his turn will not come around again.
He knows the liturgy by heart. Step here. Sprinkle there. Bow. Pray. Nothing about the script has changed.
But the eagerness of Zechariah’s expectation has never been higher. This was the last chance for Messiah to come during his days of service.
This was it for Zechariah.
Zechariah comes from a long line of priests who had all faced this very moment.
A lifetime of faithful service, devoted to one main thing: keep the lamps trimmed and burning, and Messiah will come. Then, one last call to serve in the Temple, followed by the abyss of old age and death, only The Promise to survive.
Zechariah has been born into this Blessed Hope, this Sacred Longing, Immanuel, God with us.
Luke tells it simply: while he serves, an angel appears, and Zechariah is afraid. The old liturgy makes room for a new interruption.
“Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard…”
A son for barren Elizabeth. Joy and gladness. A prophet to go before the Lord.
All the phrases ring with Scripture.
The Big Promise is finally being set in motion. The last call of an old priest is becoming the first note of a new day.
And yet Zechariah answers as if his own age is more certain than God’s promise.
“How shall I know this? For I am an old man, and my wife is advanced in years.”
It is an honest question.
This angel was standing in the presence of God. You’d have felt afraid too.
So when this promise wasn’t The Promise, Zechariah faltered.
Gabriel could not possibly reply with anything but mercy and truth, standing, as he was, in the presence of God.
Zechariah will finish his days of service in silence. Sin has its consequences.
But the priest who has spent his lifetime speaking God’s promises will now get to watch them unfold, albeit without further comment.
If we thought the eagerness of Zechariah’s expectation was at a high on the way IN to the temple, think about his mindset now!
Imagine the moment…
He’s just received a divine announcement that Elizabeth would bear a son who would be the forerunner to the Messiah.
Gabriel came with the second-richest blessing anyone has ever received from the face of an angel - “John will be the forerunner to the Messiah, and you will be his father!”
“And you may not tell anyone.”
Unbelievable moment. And yet there it is.
Nine months is a long time to carry a word you cannot explain.
Sometimes people wonder why he did not simply find other ways to communicate what he knew, as if his silence were only a technical problem.
But Zechariah understands that the removal of his voice is not just a command to be quiet. It is a sign that there is a holy task God is not giving to him, but to his son.
Zechariah will not be the voice, John will be the voice.
So Zechariah stood aside, awed by The Promise, and waited for John.
He sees Elizabeth’s body change. He feels the child kick. Neighbors come and smile and speculate. Zechariah blesses them with nods instead of benedictions.
Nobody knows but he.
Had Zechariah lost faith in God’s goodness, he might have turned those nine months into anger towards God for taking away his moment in the spotlight.
But somewhere in that imposed silence, the old man’s faith is only deepened.
He has no speech left to lean on, only the Promise itself.
When the child is born and the village gathers for the naming, they expect a Zechariah Jr.
But Elizabeth has also been given something: the name. It will be John.
The people all look to Zechariah. He asks for a tablet. He writes, “His name is John.”
And it is done. He yields to the Word spoken by Gabriel who stands in the presence of God.
The last act of his priestly duty is not a sacrifice, but a fulfilment.
Immediately his mouth is opened and he blesses God.
The voice of “him who cries in the wilderness” is now crying in the arms of his mother Elizabeth.
Then God gives Zechariah one final blessing.
Zechariah’s previous doubts have been forgiven, now God uses Zechariah’s voice to speak His Holy Word!
These are the last words of the song Zechariah sings under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit:
And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High; for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways, to give knowledge of salvation to his people in the forgiveness of their sins, because of the tender mercy of our God, whereby the sunrise shall visit us from on high to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.
Until the angel who stands in the presence of God speaks to Mary, these are the final words of prophecy foretelling the Messiah.
Zechariah’s final service in the old order becomes the doorway into the new. The priest who doubted the timing is allowed to cradle the forerunner and sing about the One who is just six months hence.
This is what Advent is for us as well.
We live with our own long habits of prayer, our own weariness, our own questions about timing.
We know the creed by heart.
The liturgy is not new.
Yet the same God who kept Zechariah to his post keeps us at ours, not so we can perform one last impressive service, but so we can be present when he keeps his Word.
The Nativity is our beacon in the dark. The Child has come. The Promise of God has taken on a human face.
Our faith is restored so that we can continue the vigil for his return.
His final return will not come with any forerunner, but by surprise.
We wait like Zechariah.
A brief prayer:
Lord God of Israel, You kept your servant Zechariah at his post until your promise moved from words to flesh. Thank you for meeting his doubt with mercy, for giving him silence and then a song, and for letting his last service open onto a new beginning.
Keep us faithful in our waiting. Let the certainty of Jesus’ birth, from the cradle to the cross,and empty tomb, be the light that steadies us in this Advent night. Restore our faith in your timing, that we may bless you with Zechariah and walk in the way of peace, through Jesus Christ, our coming Lord. Amen.
