SONG-LINES OF SALVATION:
H. Stephen Shoemaker
Myers Park Baptist Church
Charlotte, North Carolina
December 2, 2001
ZECHARIAH AND ELIZABETH
Texts: Isaiah 2:1-5; Luke 1:5-7, 57-69, 76-80
There is a labyrinth of invisible pathways which meander all over Australia, called "Footprints of the Ancestors" by the Aboriginal people, or "Song-Lines."1
In the Aboriginal myth of creation the gods traversed the land and sang the world into existence as they walked about the land. They sang one song, and the sun, moon and stars appeared, another song and the animals came forth: kangaroos and Koala bears. (One sang a silly limerick: "There once was a creature named atticus . . . ." And out came a duck-billed platypus;) Each human being was created as the gods sang that person’s own unique song. Aboriginal people would rewalk the sacred pathways, or Song-Lines, as a way of singing their way back to where they belong and back to their own conception site.
This season of Advent, I invite you to rewalk the Song-Lines of salvation, to retrace the steps of those who were part of the coming of Jesus Christ into the world, to hear again the stories and sing again the songs which brought -- and still bring -- God’s salvation to the world. Today, the story and song of Zechariah and Elizabeth.
I
Luke began the nativity story with the words: "In the days of Herod, King of Judea." He wanted to place the events of Jesus’ life on the stage of world history. And the place: In the temple at Jerusalem. The gospel would proceed from the womb of Judaism. And these two characters; A country priest named Zechariah and his wife Elizabeth, both descendants of the tribe of Aaron, the lineage of Israel’s priests which goes back to Moses’ brother, Aaron. God’s new blessing for the world will be announced from the tribe called to bestow the priestly blessing.
This particular day was supposed to be the high point of Zechariah’s life. Aaron’s tribe was divided into twenty-four divisions; they rotated the honor of serving in the temple. The priest of the day was chosen by lots. This day Zechariah was chosen, perhaps for the first and only time of his life. As Israel’s priest he would go into the holy place of the temple and offer prayers and incense to God for all the people.
A few more crucial details: Zechariah and Elizabeth are described as righteous, walking in the commands of God; they are described as up in years; they are childless.
Elizabeth beamed as her husband donned his robes and entered the temple. He had rehearsed this day as long as he could remember. He would go into the holy sanctuary and offer this prayer:
Then he would scatter the incense on the coals. He would then return to the outer steps of the temple where the people had gathered to hear the priest pronounce the benediction spoken and handed down for twelve hundred years:
Then he and Elizabeth would go home and celebrate. Today he had been Israel’s priest!
As he entered the Holy Place, however, scattered the incense on the coals and said the prayer, he sensed some movement near him. He was about to ask who this unauthorized intruder was when he noticed an unearthly light and the movement of wings opening from the stranger’s body and slowly fanning the air.
Suddenly Zechariah felt cold; his whole body began to shake; he could not stop the shaking. The angel spoke:
Then the angel said,
Elizabeth will bear you a son and
you shall name him John.
Zechariah was dumfounded. How long had it been since they in their sorrow had even dared to pray for a child? The angel went on:
Zechariah couldn’t believe such words. Don’t make a fool of me, he said, or something like that. Elizabeth is beyond the child-bearing years; and as for me, I’m an old man: stiff where I used to be limber and limber where I used to be stiff. The angel tried not to smile.
"And I am Gabriel, sent by God to bring good news. Since you disbelieve this good news, you will be unable to speak until these things are accomplished."
Sometimes God shuts our mouth, or tries to. None of us are called to profess what we can’t believe, and maybe it’s best to keep our mouths shut until we get it all sorted out. The Quakers have a sense of this: God comes in the silence, in the stillness of our souls. Ignatius wrote in the second century that Jesus Christ God’s son was God’s word "proceeding from silence." The liturgy of St. James, fourth century, has given us the words of our Advent hymn:
Zechariah proceeded to the outer steps of the temple to meet the crowd, mute as a stone, unable to give Aaron’s benediction. Did he raise his arms in the sign of the priestly blessing. Did he mouth the words? Did he wave his arms wildly, mimicking the angel’s wings, and point to his silent tongue? Did he rock an imaginary baby in his arms?
The text says he "made signs" to them, and they sensed that something like a vision had happened to him in the temple.
The story says discreetly that he and Elizabeth returned home and that she conceived. "God has taken away the reproach of my barrenness," she said with quiet joy.
The joyful Elizabeth and the mute Zechariah thus began their nine-month journey toward John’s birth.
During that time, north in Galilee, another miracle was taking place. Elizabeth had a young cousin named Mary who was betrothed to an older man named Joseph. She also was with child in a miraculous way.
We have a beautiful scene where the young pregnant Mary visits her older cousin, Elizabeth. When she entered Elizabeth’s house and greeted her, the child in Elizabeth’s womb leaped, and Elizabeth was filled with God’s Spirit. Do you remember the first time you felt your child move in your womb? Or the first time your hand on your wife’s belly felt your child move? A holy time.
Filled with the Spirit, Elizabeth sensed the deeper meaning: The child in my womb is leaping for joy before the child in your womb, Mary.
Mary and Elizabeth grew close as they shared their child-bearing days together. One can only hope that Zechariah and Joseph got together too. Zechariah needed someone he could talk with, without having to talk, God’s cat having gotten his tongue. And Joseph needed a friend as well, his young bride with child in a deeply confounding way. He needed someone to say that God’s ways are stranger than any fiction -- and harder to live with than they tell you in church.
As the days approached for John’s birth, Elizabeth grew more and more joyful -- and Zechariah grew anxious. Would he be able to talk again when the child came?
When the day came for John to be born, neighbors and friends thronged all around. The miracle-child was born! But they didn’t know the half of it.
Eight days later they took him to be circumcised and named. The priest blessed him and began to name him in the customary way, after the father’s name: "And you shall be named Zechariah bin Abijah."
The mute Zechariah became visibly agitated. And Elizabeth, as had been necessary of late, did the talking: "Not so! His name will be John!"
The priest answered, "John? There is no one in the family tree named John. This is highly irregular!" Zechariah probably rolled his eyes, as if to say, "Everything about this child has been highly irregular!"
Then the others in the room began making big dramatic gestures to Zechariah -- like in charades -- to get his word on the subject. Knowing he was mute, they also assumed he was deaf! Zechariah pointed to a tablet and wrote: "Listen to Elizabeth; his name will be John."
Suddenly his mouth was opened, his tongue loosed, and what came forth after so long a silence was a song, "Open thou my lips, and my mouth shall show forth thy praise," we pray, and sometimes God obliges.
What he sang was a blessing, a praise of God the church has called "The Benedictus" after the first word of its Latin translation:
The infant John was raising up his own horn, a squalling as only a freshly circumcised boy can squall. Undaunted by John’s noise, he went on:
"Blessed be God for God’s faithfulness to David, and through David to all God’s people."
"Blessed be God for God’s faithfulness to Abraham, and through Abraham to all God’s people."
Then he turned and looked at his new son and sang:
Peace, God’s holy dream of Shalom, where swords will be beat into plowshares and spears into pruning hooks, where nations will not lift up sword against nation and we will learn war no more.
Isn’t this our fervent prayer today? Bombers turned to tractors, military academies turned to kindergartens, the industry of war turned into industries of peace where peace-time economics will provide sufficient work for the unemployed and livable wages for the poor.
Can this dream be our holy calling? His song still sings its way into our human hopeful hearts. Dona nobis pacem. Grant us peace, O God, and make us its instruments in our world.
CONCLUSION
This story and this song have so much to say to us today:
That new spiritual birth can happen through old spiritual forms;
That a devout couple advanced in years can show us the way;
That sometimes God shuts our mouths; for both glib belief and glib unbelief get in
the way of truth trying to be born;
and that if we keep singing God’s songs the Shalom of God will come upon this
world.
The story ends with the picture of young John growing and becoming strong in the Spirit and one day going, not to the temple, but to the wilderness to proclaim God’s salvation. To that part of the story we will go next week.
