“ZECHARIAH’S SONG”
A sermon preached by Noel K. Anderson at First Presbyterian Church of Upland on 12.13.20
DUMBSTRUCK
I’ll remind you that Zechariah had been struck dumb by the angel Gabriel during his high service in the Holy of Holies, as Matt shared with us two weeks ago. Zechariah disses the angel and pays the price for it. He can’t speak, probably had no idea how to sign, and he definitely could not sing, not that he had anything to sing about at this point.
We use the word “dumbstruck” figuratively when we want to describe that strange state of befuddlement and bewilderment—even awe—when we experience something so indescribable that all we can do is stand there with our mouth hanging open, totally lost for words.
Sometimes—like now in 2020—I wonder where Gabriel might be, and couldn’t he maybe come down and do his good work of muting several thousands of people? Come on, Gabriel, just as you did to Zechariah, couldn’t you put a few more people on mute in America? There are many politicians who would be much more likable if they never spoke. And about 90% of the newsreaders, commentators, and podcasters—how much better would America be if they were dumbstruck and forced to communicate only through writing? It’s too bad we can’t just mute them like on a Zoom meeting.
Anyway, Zechariah had plenty of time to think about what he had done—a good nine months, anyway—and I’m sure he knew his mistake. Remember, Zechariah was high priest that year—he knew all the stories of his ancestors inappropriately disrespecting God. I have to believe he knew he well-deserved his punishment.
I imagine his inner monologue, going over it all again and again: “I can’t believe how I spoke to Gabriel—GABRIEL, the ANGEL! I was so wrapped up in the honor and privilege of serving in the Holy of Holies that I never expected anything to happen, and when it did I reacted badly.”
Well his son is born to his most elderly wife Elizabeth, and all the family and neighbors think they should name him Zecharaiah, after his father, but Zechariah had orders from the Lord to name him John. So as soon as they implore Zechariah to name his son, they shove a tablet in his hand and he writes: His name is John. With this simple act of obedience, prophecy is fulfilled and Zechariah’s voice returns.
Instead of saying something normal, like—“Oh wow—what a relief! I’m glad that’s over with!”—we hear the swell of the orchestra, the lights go dim on the other players and Zechariah steps front-and-center stage to sing.
Luke 1: 67-80 my own translation
67 Then John’s father Zechariah was filled with the Holy Spirit and spoke this prophecy:
68 Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, who has visited and redeemed His people!
69 In the house of David, He has raised the cup of Salvation for us
70 (just as He said He would through the mouths of the prophets)—
71 Salvation from our enemies—from the controls of all who hate us.
72 He remembers His covenant with our forefathers and shows us mercy;
73 The oath He made to Abraham counts toward us as well.
74 We are delivered from evil to serve Him
75 Through faithful obedience all our days.
76 And you, my son John, will be called a Prophet of God
for you will go before Him to prepare His way:
77 to proclaim salvation through the forgiveness of sins,
78 to announce God’s compassionate mercies by which the rising sun
will come to us from Heaven,
79 to shine light to those in darkness and seated in the shadow of death,
and to guide our steps in the way of peace.
80 And the child grew and became strong in the spirit,
and lived in the desert until his public appearance to Israel.
ZECHARIAH REDUX
The upshot of the song is praise, thanks, and remembrance of all God’s goodness. God accomplishes salvation for His people, just as He promised through the prophets of old. This is followed by a prophecy about his son, John, who will be another prophet of God, preparing the way for God’s messiah, who will forgive the people’s sin and come to earth like the “rising sun”—a beautiful pun for us in English—and lead us in the way of peace.
Zechariah’s song, like those of Elizabeth and Mary, is inspired by the Holy Spirit. It, too, is like Pentecost, where the “mute” Disciples of Jesus find their voice to proclaim the good news of Jesus. And yes, Zechariah is proclaiming the good news of Jesus’ coming. I want us to look again at his song:
—68 Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, who has visited and redeemed His people!
• This is a poetic device known as prolepsis, which speaks of something to come as though it has already happened. Because God has promised it, it is as good as done already.
69 In the house of David, He has raised the cup of Salvation for us
• Again, as in the first verse, it is clear that God is the agent of salvation, not us in any way. Also, we hear in this verse the foreshadowing of communion—the cup of salvation in the promised new covenant.
70 (just as He said He would through the mouths of the prophets)—
• God is motivated by love and mercy, yes, but also by keeping His word. God acts with absolutely perfect integrity, which means we can always trust His promises. Our faith consists of trusting His promises—to have faith is to trust God to do what He has promised to do and live our lives accordingly.
—71 Salvation from our enemies—from the controls of all who hate us.
• Isn’t this always the prayer of the oppressed? This also needs to be read spiritually, understanding that the forces of evil want only to destroy those who follow the Lord. This is as much about powers and principalities as earthly politics.
72 He remembers His covenant with our forefathers and shows us mercy;
• Again, God keeps His promises. Always.
73 The oath He made to Abraham counts toward us as well.
• God’s covenant with Abraham was unilateral—to bless Abraham and through him the whole world. That blessing will become abundantly clear in the life, person, and work of Jesus—Christ/Messiah.
—74 We are delivered from evil to serve Him 75 through faithful obedience all our days.
• We saved from evil in order to live for God. In God alone do we find joy, pleasure, fulfillment, peace, and wholeness.
76 And you, my son John, will be called a Prophet of God, for you will go before Him to prepare His way:
• John is to be a messenger, a forerunner, an announcer. Zechariah knows the Messiah is on the way.
—77 to proclaim salvation through the forgiveness of sins,
• This is also the message of Jesus and the preaching of the gospel through history. Repent, the kingdom of God is at hand. Forgiveness has come, therefore it only makes sense that we would change our lives and align ourselves toward Him.
78 to announce God’s compassionate mercies by which the Rising Sun will come to us from Heaven,
- The pun works beautifully in English, but it is the proclamation of a new day and a new age. The Son of God from Heaven comes down to us to save us, to forgive our sins, and to restore us to right relationship with God, with one another, and with the universe. Jesus establishes this, and we turn our lives toward Him in grateful response. That’s what we mean to do every Sunday when we come to worship. It’s what we do every morning when we open our Bible or say our prayers. Our faith life is a matter of constantly reforming ourselves so that we would be in tune with God’s will.
DECEMBER ZECHARIAH
Zechariah went from his well-worn, ordinary experience into the realm of the extraordinary. From high priest and orderly service, he was dumbstruck into silence. From silence, he practiced obedience and found himself filled with the Holy Spirit. Priest and prophet, he announces the Messianic era and everything changes for the better.
December 2020 reminds me a bit of Zechariah. December is the old age—the final month—of any year, and 2020 is guaranteed to be remembered as year where the unexpected took over from the ordinary. Rather than a normal year, 2020 was dumbstruck early on. I’m still not sure what year it is, really—it still feels like we’re in the Twilight Zone.
What year is it, really? What year is this year that is coming to a close, because I’m confused.
In January, we had an impeachment, so I thought it might be 1998. Then came the Chinese Flu (Covid-19 if you prefer)—a worldwide pandemic like the Spanish Flu, so I thought it must be 1918. Then we had a stock market crash, so I was sure it must be 1929. Then we had an African-American civilian killed by a white policeman setting off a series of peaceful protests and violent riots—I was sure it was 1965, or 1967, or 1968. Next, radicals take over six city blocks of a major city, with barricades in the streets and declarations of independence—an autonomous zone—just like the Paris Commune of 1871. Then we had a presidential election with results that remain highly contested. Is it 1800? Maybe 2000? Remember hanging chads? So please, someone tell me where this weird year came from and from what parallel universe it slopped over into ours?
Funny: 2020 is, coincidentally, our moniker for perfect vision, when in fact we are surrounded by many forms of blindness—selfish nearsightedness, fuzzy farsightedness, and a pandemic of crosseyed confusion. 2020, as it turns out, was far less eagle-eyed than Mr. Magoo-ish.
2020, like old Zechariah, was discombobulated, befuddled, confused, and furthermore unable to explain itself. And as Zechariah’s closed mouth gave him time to think about his situation, our covid lockdowns have given us all time to think. So what have we learned?
WHAT WE HAVE LEARNED
I think we, like Zechariah, have learned at least three things:
1. We are all children.
Zechariah fumbled in the end zone—at the peak of his high priestly duties, he disrespected the messenger of God. It was a childish thing to do. Similarly, in 2020, we’ve looked around and wondered Where are all the adults? There seem to be no adults in the room. The world looks like the Peanuts comic strip—all children but no parents—and the voice of wisdom seems to be absent from our culture—all we get is a WaaWaaWaa sound like Charlie Brown’s teacher.
The media have become childishly quarrelsome. News channels push opponents into the worst versions of their enemies and abuse, berate, scold, and denounce them. Dialogues guarantee raised voices and mutual hectoring. Again, don’t we expect more of grown adults?
2. We are not in control.
Covid has proven—so far—to be bigger than all of our best science. We’re just not that clever. If we were, we’d have worked it out in a week, but no, we are like children standing bewildered before a dark, open, night sky. What we can’t fix, we blame others for. It’s the opposing party’s fault! It’s China’s fault! It’s big pharma’s fault! This is all childish. The fact is, 2020 is good for our humility, just as Zechariah was humbled. We don’t know everything and we don’t get it all. We are not in control of the cosmos, but we can put our trust in the one who is, and live without fear or anxiety as we do so.
3. We need a better relationship with God.
Trouble can affect us in one of two ways: we either turn to God for help or turn away from God imagining He has let us down. Troubles can result in greater distance between us and God, or troubles can draw us to Him in greater need and dependence. Zechariah’s song makes it clear: from his troubles he grew into greater faith and trust in God. So should we.
Look again at verses 74 and 75:
74 We are delivered from evil to serve Him 75 through faithful obedience all our days.
We are saved for a purpose—something much more than just our own well-being—we are saved to serve God and to practice faithful obedience, ever aligning and re-aligning our spirits with His.
The result of doing so is a fulfilled soul, a complete spirit, a satisfied mind, and a loving heart. A new year is coming, but we already live in the new age of Christ’s triumph over sin and death. We, like Zechariah, like his son John the Baptizer, can announce and proclaim that the Lord God of Israel has visited and redeemed His people.
May our faith, this Advent and beyond, take its cue from Zechariah, such that we serve the will and Word of God,
and share in His work by simple obedience. Despite all temptations and worldly pressures—including whatever 2021 may bring—may we all be aware enough to see God’s glorious work in our midst. Let us not miss that angel.
And may our Gratitude run as deep, and our praises to God be elaborate, sweet, deep, but most certainly from the Heart.
Christmas is coming. Jesus is coming.
Hallelujah and Amen.