Journey with Jesus – Day 1
I’d long since given up hope for children. When we became betrothed and talked in earnest about our life together, Elizabeth and I just assumed children would be part of it – I mean, we both came from large families; our siblings themselves had children – why wouldn’t we? In the early years of our marriage, our friends and family would ask us if there was any sign that the pitter-patter of tiny feet was on its way. Then, when we would shake our heads, they would reassure us that it was just a matter of time, that it couldn’t be long before nature took its course. But nature didn’t. The months became years and no baby came. It became a taboo. Suddenly, no one talked about their own children or families with us. Though they didn’t broach the subject with us either, we were met with awkwardness and pitying looks from our friends and family. Poor Elizabeth and Zechariah, the childless ones.
Life still had its joys, of course. Elizabeth was beautiful, and remained so, age adding wisdom and grace to her countenance. But there was also a tinge of sadness. I know Elizabeth felt guilty for not providing me with a son to inherit my priestly role. While I would have derived so much pleasure from this, I didn’t blame her. Of course I didn’t; it is God who opens the womb. He would have purposes and plans we wouldn’t understand. We trusted in our Lord, whom we loved and served.
The years passed and we grew old. The years blended into each other – each day with its rhythms and routines – was much the same. Two weeks in the year we would go up to Jerusalem to assist at the temple for a week at a time. Being used to the peace and quiet of our day-to-day life in the hill country of Judea that had never been punctuated by the noise of children, that time at Jerusalem was always a shock at first; we were surrounded by thousands of people, the sights and sounds of the sacrifices taking place. And then we would immerse ourselves in the priestly service to which we were called.
This particular occasion began like any other. Except, I was chosen by lot to have the extraordinary honour of entering the Lord’s sanctuary to burn incense while the people were gathered to pray outside. It was the holiest of moments. I couldn’t wait to tell Elizabeth about this singular honour God had accorded me and felt a twinge of sadness as I realised there would be no child to share this moment with. I couldn’t allow myself to be too caught up in this – I had a job to do. A holy task too. So, I collected myself and continued to burn the incense on the altar. But then, suddenly to my right a flash of light appeared. It seemed to form a figure. An angel. I was absolutely terrified. “Don’t be afraid, Zechariah, because your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear your a son, and you will name him John. You will have great joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth, for he will be great in the eyes of the Lord. He must never touch wine or other alcoholic drinks. He will be filled with the Holy Spirit, even before his birth. And he will turn many Israelites to the Lord their God. He will be a man with the spirit and power of Elijah. He will prepare the people for the coming of the Lord. He will turn the hearts of the fathers to their children, and he will cause those who are rebellious to accept the wisdom of the godly.”
Numb with shock, terror and, I’ll admit it, disbelief, I blurted out, “How can I be sure this will happen? I’m an old man now, and my wife is also well along in years.” All I could think of was how impossible this all was. I must have been seeing things. Then the angel spoke again, its voice carrying a tone of authority.
“I am Gabriel! I stand in the very presence of God. It was he who sent me to bring you this good news! But now, since you didn’t believe what I said, you will be silent and unable to speak until the child is born. For my words will certainly be fulfilled at the proper time.”
I made to protest, but though my mouth formed the words, none came. Then I knew. Despite being made mute, I felt a surge of joy. I had been made new. I realised that I had been a long time in the sanctuary, so I completed my task and came out. The people looked at me questioningly. Of course, I couldn’t say a word. I tried to gesture and make them understand that I had seen a vision in the sanctuary.
The rest of that week of service sped by in a blur. Though I tried to focus as best as I could on the tasks I had, all I could think about were the angel’s words. Could it be true? Will I become a father after all, and my darling Elizabeth the mother of children? Would our son be great in God’s sight? What an honour to be chosen for such a role!
A couple of months later, Elizabeth walked in, radiant with joy and wonder. “Zechariah, I’m pregnant. How kind the Lord is!” she exclaimed. “He has taken away my disgrace of having no children.”
We embraced and wept together. Except this time, these tears were tears of gratitude and joy. The Lord is doing a new thing, making the impossible possible and bringing new life and hope where all hope had long gone.
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