God, Zechariah, and the hopes of humankind
It seemed too late for Zechariah and his seemingly barren wife, Elizabeth. They had longed for and prayed for a son for years. Hope was all but dead, but it kept itching like a scab. When Zechariah was serving his shift in the temple, his number came up for the once-in-a-lifetime privilege of getting to burn the incense in the temple’s sacred precincts beyond the altar. He was priesting away, frightfully close to the veil of the Holy of Holies that no one could enter except the high priest once a year, when an angel of the Lord God drew near out of the smoke. The angel announced: “Your petition has been heard.”
He had been praying for it for years and was caught off guard when his prayer was to be answered. He doubted and asked, “How shall I know this? Let me see your angel I.D. card. Give me some proof, because I am an old man (and my wife is no spring chicken either). How do I know that you aren’t just some Wizard of Oz, pulling levers and blowing smoke?” His hopes had been raised so many times before that Zechariah did not want to have them crushed once more. Hopes once dashed are less likely to spring up so quickly again.
To the “I” of Zechariah, the angel responds, “I am Gabriel, who stands in the presence of God. I, Gabriel, know these things. I have something to say to the ‘I’ of Zechariah. This is what God will do!”
I do not know what your hopes are. They may be grand; they may be small. They may be barely formed; they may be desperate. For some, hope may seem hopeless; “I hope my life is worth something to somebody.” If you know the Bible stories, you should know one thing: “It ain't over ‘til it’s over.” God is never through with us. Longfellow wrote: “Nothing is too late till the tired heart shall cease to palpitate.”
Zechariah became mute after this encounter with the divine. He was punished for his doubt, but silence before God’s mighty acts is sometimes the best we can do. Frankly, silently and without any fanfare is often how God fulfills the hopes of humankind.
- How silently, how silently
The wondrous gift is given!
So God imparts to human hearts
The blessings of His heaven.
No ear may hear His coming,
But in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive him still,
The dear Christ enters in.