Homily for Midweek Advent

I had been raised well. My parents, bless their souls, had taught us to fear the Lord and to walk in his ways. They told us the story of God’s dealings with us, His people, the Jews. They told us of Abraham and Sarah. They told us of Moses and Elijah. They told us most of all about the coming of the Promised One who would bring an end to sorrow and death and restore all things to what they were created to be at the beginning. They told us. And we believed. I believed. I, Zacharias, of the house of Abijah, a priest from a family of priests. I believed and so I waited.

But waiting is wearying and I had grown old as I waited. I began to suspect that I would go down to the grave still waiting - no Promised One in sight. Little did I know. Little did I know.

The day arrived when it was my turn to do the priest’s duty in the great temple of my people in Jerusalem. I had done it before and it was always an honor, but only once in a priest’s life did the opportunity come to go beyond the big altar in the courtyard and actually enter the sanctuary, the holy place and there offer the sacred incense - sign of the prayers of the people of God ascending to the throne of God. It was my turn and I was filled with joy and holy fear. Soon, soon, I would be standing only feet away from the most holy place, the holy of holies. Soon, soon, I would be spreading the coals and then sprinkling the incense upon them, watching it rise even as the prayers of God’s people rise to the throne of heaven.

And my prayer? I did not speak my prayer. It is a terrible thing to have your only prayer be a regret. But that was my prayer: “I am sad, God, that you have given me no child, no son.” That was the prayer that was in my heart as I stood before the altar and spread the coals with the shovel and then sprinkled the incense. That was my prayer. It was hidden in my heart. Or so I thought.

Then he stood beside me, a great Angel of the Lord, a messenger from God most high and I was terrified. I had heard of these messengers. I think that I had believed in them all my life, but I was not prepared to meet one. Stepping out of the sacred stories and crossing right into my life. I was not prepared for that at all. But there he stood nonetheless.

And such words he spoke. He told me that God had heard my prayer and that it was granted. I was going to have a son - a son who would bring me joy and gladness. And not only me, but many people. A son who would be like the Nazarites of old, consecrated to God from the womb. A child filled with the Spirit of the Most High even in his mother’s womb.

Can you understand what it was like for me to hear that? I was suddenly confronted with God moving out of the story and into my life and giving me what I didn’t even dare to hope for anymore. I doubted. I couldn’t believe it. I questioned. My trust wavered and I began to wonder if I had ever really believed at all before. I said: “How will I know this? I am an old man. My wife is old - beyond the years of child-bearing. It’s impossible. It just can’t be.”

Have you ever seen an angel get riled, get mad? Let me tell you, it is not a comfortable sight. Seems that nothing angers them so swiftly as our not believing. They just don’t understand it. They have been with God for so long and they have never known a word He spoke not to come true. To them He is utterly and completely reliable and so they grow impatient with our foolish distrust.

He drew himself up; He grew in power and might before me and I covered my eyes in fear as his glory was unveiled. I think for a moment I must have seen him, this mighty angel, as he appears before the throne of God. A being of beauty that hurts our eyes to look at, a being of goodness so great that we suddenly feel shamed and dirty. He said: “I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God. I was sent to bring you these glad tidings! Behold, you do not believe! You want a sign. A sign you shall have. You shall be mute, unable to speak, not even a word, until these things take place, for you did not believe my words which most certainly will be fulfilled at their time.”

And then he was gone. The smoke of the incense had long since disappeared, but the sweet smell still filled the room. I don’t know how long it took, but it must have taken awhile. I went out from the sanctuary and looked at the puzzled, upturned faces. They didn’t know why I had been delayed and now they couldn’t understand why I didn’t given them the blessing. But I couldn’t tell them. I made signs and finally they began to understand that something awesome had happened to me in that room.

I went home, a man silent and yet my heart was bursting for joy. And it happened, just like God had said through the angel. It happened. Impossibly. Miraculously. God had stepped out of the story and into my life and suddenly my life was like the story. It was Abraham and Sarah all over again. It was Elkanah and Hannah all over again. God was doing it again. An old couple, unable to have children, suddenly giving birth.

You who live in the time of the Great Fulfilment, you who live in the aftermath of those days, will you trust an old man who says to you to watch out! The story is more alive than you imagine. Don’t ever underestimate the power of God to step right out of the story into your life and then pull your life right back into the story. I know whereof I speak. For my child, wondrous as he was, was but the Fore-runner. The Greater One came a few months later. The waiting was then at an end. He came into my world and He comes into your world. He comes to bring the joy and destroy the sadness, just as the prophets said he would.

Watch out for Him, my friends! Watch for Him! This God who comes to be one flesh with you and to suffer and die and to rise and bring life indestructible and joy eternal to you and to all people. Watch for Him, for He comes. He comes - and your lives will never be the same again.