Sermon
The combination of the Gospel of Luke along with the Book of Acts together represent the epic narrative that links Jesus' life, death and resurrection to the story of how Christianity began.1 The start of that epic narrative for Luke begins with the priest Zechariah. I mean, if you were going to write our entire Christian narrative, wouldn't you start with something or someone spectacular or dramatic? For this gospel writer, everything happens and nothing happens without, being filled with the spirit. In that case, Zechariah is the perfect beginning for Luke's orderly account.
Zechariah was on duty as a priest one day, and it happened to be his turn to enter the sanctuary of the Lord and offer incense. Imagine standing there, maybe you've just lit the incense, it's a little smokey and you see something out of the corner of your eye. Maybe it's just the smoke. But it's not, it's an angel of the Lord. The angel Gabriel tells terrified Zechariah great news – Elizabeth, despite her advanced age will bear a child, a son, and the child will be named John. Gabriel explains how wonderful it will be, how it will happen, how joyous everyone will be, and how great John will be. Terrified Zechariah sputters, “But, but, but…how will I know….?” Imagine Gabriel's let down after broadcasting such wonderful events! Sigh. Since Zechariah didn't believe him, Gabriel declared that Zechariah would be mute until the child was born. Then the angel goes off to talk with Mary for a bit, and explain her future, and tell Mary about Elizabeth.
Finally, Elizabeth delivers a baby boy and there was great rejoicing. Zechariah and Elizabeth came to circumcise and name the child eight days later as was custom. Many were assuming the baby would be named after his father Zechariah but Elizabeth said, “No, he is to be called John.” The people didn't understand this because the name John was not a family name, so they went to see what Zechariah said. Of course Zechariah couldn't speak, so he asked for a tablet and wrote, “His name is John.” I picture him, just bursting to speak! Right then Zechariah's mouth was opened and he could not stop praising God.
Zechariah's first words were praise to God for the gift of his son and for the understanding about what his son would become. “Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for he has looked favorably on his people and redeemed them.” Today's text, called the Benedictus is one of three major songs in just the first two chapters of Luke. The first was Mary's song, after the angel Gabriel visited her, and the third was the song of Simeon who recognized baby Jesus as the Savior. These canticles are bursts of spirit filled words of praise and mark the recognition of the presence of God.
Recognizing that the God that has been active throughout history is the same God who was acting right then. Zechariah's first words give praise and thanks to God for the past and the present at the same time. He restates some of the promises and actions of God that the Jewish people would be very familiar with before then recognizing that this baby, his baby, right in front of him, eight days old, would play a major role in continuing the inbreaking of God directly into the lives of God's people. As God had done before and is still doing, God will do again through this child.
Zechariah's blessing is a verb – Zechariah is blessing God, giving thanks. And God blessed Zechariah and Elizabeth. This blessing is also a noun – the child himself, the miracle of birth for a couple so old, and the gift the child will continue to be. Although blessings often convey thanksgiving and praise with their words, there's something deeper being represented also. There's something beyond the praise – the verb, and the actual blessing itself – the noun, in this case a child. Blessings go beyond the concrete thanks and it feels like there is something more, something deeper.
I used to get my medical attention at a teaching hospital so residents were always coming and going. I had one doctor named Pierre – yes, from Paris. When his residency was over I was going to write him a short thank you note – in French. I don't speak French. How hard could it be, right, with a French-English dictionary? Since I was in seminary, I thought I'd use the word “blessings.” I must have spent two hours on that tiny little thank you note, spending most of my time trying to figure out how to say “blessings.” Because it's not just a word, it's an expression. It conveys thanksgiving, it conveys appreciation, it conveys well wishes, but not just any well wishes – well wishes that have been created by God. I can't remember what I actually wrote in French. I asked the doctor, after he read it, to tell me what my French actually said! He translated what I hoped was “blessing” into “All good things from God.” Yep. That's it.
One commentator I spent a lot of time with this week, said that “More than a wish or an expression of hope, the language of blessing is grounded in certainty… a statement of assurance – that what God has said, God will do.” She says, “..unlike praise, blessing often takes place before something happens or comes into being.” It's a statement of “confidence, conviction, and even recognition that God acts or is about to act.” It makes me think that if someone offers me blessings, I should duck! Look out, God is about to do something!
Here are the things that Zechariah is confident about, can say with conviction and recognizes God's involvement in: “God has shows the mercy promised to our ancestors, and has remembered his holy covenant, that oath that he swore to our ancestor Abraham, to grant us that we, being rescued from the hands of our enemies, might serve him without fear, in holiness and righteousness before him all our days.” God of the past.
Zechariah is also confident of this: “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.” God of the future.
After Zechariah's blessing, the narrator says to the reader, “The child grew and became strong in spirit, and he was in the wilderness until the day he appeared publicly to Israel.”
I feel as if the last few weeks have been preparing us for Advent, which in itself is a time of waiting and preparation. We are being prepared to prepare. Next week is the first Sunday of Advent, and marks the start of a new liturgical year. That means that we will primarily be reading from the gospel of Matthew, no longer emphasizing Luke. For that reason, we don't run into John the Baptist again until he comes out of that wilderness where today's text leaves us. Two of the four Sundays in Advent this year will be about John the Baptist. As we prepare for the birth of Christ, we first recognize the work of the Spirit in this other baby – the one that came before the baby we're waiting for. The baby before The Baby.
I was talking to an “old” person last week – and I say that with all love and respect and honor – you know, someone who has put in plenty of days and lived plenty of stories and sees life from a certain knowing perspective, who basically has a lot more data. That's my definition of old people. As I was listening to this person talk, I realized that they not only knew the history of whatever we were talking about, but they knew the history, of the history! Today's text is the history, of the history of John the Baptist.
From the very beginning of Luke's orderly account, God's work has been done through the Spirit. Zechariah was filled with the spirit, and offered this blessing. Mary was filled with the spirit after the angel Gabriel visited her, and she sang the Magnificat. And John the Baptist grew and became strong in spirit.
As we prepare to prepare, prepare for the season of Advent to begin next week, I invite us to be grounded in our spiritual lives. See the world as if we were filled with the holy spirit. Read the texts that we may be familiar with, as if we were filled with the holy spirit. Listen and watch and respond to the world, respond to these upcoming texts with the promise that comes from our living faith that these words have something new for us. Let yourselves be amazed by something. Let yourselves be blessed by Advent this year.
Can you remember the last time you heard something and said to yourself, “Oh, I didn't know that!” and then changed or reconsidered a situation or an opinion anew? Maybe it was from an article about the Webb Telescope, and then you viewed the night sky differently. Or maybe you thought you knew everything there was to know about the flute, until you realize that you never did. And then you play or teach or practice differently. “Oh, I didn't know that” is the path of curiosity, expectation, growth, intimacy, deeper community and individual relationships, a time of awe. Let's enter Advent next week prepared to look for places to say “Oh, I didn't know that” and let ourselves dwell in the delight of that newness. Dwell in the delight of recognizing God's action knowing with confidence, conviction and assurance of God's new thing and the unexpected blessings that are right around the corner.
When we are spirit-filled, we are co-creators with God, creators of the next great thing that leads to light; that removes the darkness.
When we read about the man John the Baptist in the next few weeks during Advent, warning people, preparing people, living in the wilderness, eating strange food, dressing weird – let's hold onto today's reminder that that man started out as this blessed babe, promise from God, sent to remind us that “By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.”
Amen.