The Merciful Love of Zechariah
Luke 1:57-80
Choosing a name has become an enterprise for expectant parents who take this matter seriously. Today’s new parents have all kinds of resources at their disposal. They can consult books, websites that deliver meanings, cultural relevance, and popularity. They can get help from 741,000 members of the “Namenerds,” a forum on Reddit. I hear there are baby-naming consultants for hire, if all else fails, available to meet with you by zoom for the low price of $500.00 a session.[1]
Elizabeth and Zechariah had no need for these services. The name of their baby had been personally delivered by Divine telegram. Today’s scripture text continues the unfolding story of God coming into the world as a newborn baby. In Luke’s introduction of his gospel, before there is Jesus, he tells the story of John. As a writer, Luke is really good at building anticipation. Only in Luke do we learn the names of John’s parents and that he was of a priestly family. In this scene Zechariah and Elizabeth are at the temple for what is a version of a Jewish baby dedication. At this ceremony, their baby boy will be circumcised by a priest and his name will be announced. With the giving of a name comes blessing, purpose, worth. This child is only eight days old. He hasn’t earned a name, a blessing, a place in society, or in the life of the religious community. He’s just a baby! But his parents have been told who he will be and they trust that God’s messenger who delivered the news meant what he said.
This all started over nine months ago in the temple in Jerusalem where Zechariah is on duty with the rest of his priestly division. Zechariah is a priest. Elizabeth is his wife of many years. They live in the hill country. Zechariah only resides at the temple when he is on duty. They are the picture of Jewish piety. And yet they are childless and now old. Zechariah has been selected to be the one to burn incense on the altar within the Holy Place. He is alone there when he is visited by archangel Gabriel who has a four slide power point for him:
Elizabeth will have a child to be named John;
The child will bring joy and gladness to many people including his parents;
The child will be reared in the Nazirite tradition (think Samson, famous OT Nazirite); and
This boy will remind everyone of Elijah – talking about end times and preparing Israel.
Despite receiving a long -awaited answer to his prayers; and despite Gabriel’s pronouncement that the son will bring hope, not only to his family, but all the people of Israel; despite the clear and personal delivery of the message in the holiest part of the temple, Zechariah couldn’t believe it.[2]
In his doubt and disbelief, he is made mute. He is supposed to emerge from the holy space and greet or bless the worshippers, but immediately they know that something unusual has happened. He gestures to explain that he saw something, heard something, but he has lost all ability to speak. His days on duty in the temple concludes and Zechariah returns home. Elizabeth conceives for which she praises God. Zechariah remains silent. God is at work here in familiar patterns – a vision, a messenger, a promise, a sign, a childless old couple. God is still at work from within the religious community – the reliable, normal way (through a Jewish priest and his wife no less). ANNND God is at work in new ways… The old will usher in the new.[3]
Nine months and a few days later, The priest and his wife stand ready to name this child. The crowd assumes, per tradition, the old (reliable, normal) way that the boy will be named for his father. But God is at work in new ways. Elizabeth speaks for both of them, “No, his name will be John.” They question her choice and look to Zechariah to correct her. Zechariah upholds Elizabeth’s answer and God’s word. He holds up a literal sign saying, His Name is John! In their agreement, Zechariah and Elizabeth demonstrate this response is inspired by the Holy Spirit. God is indeed at work in an unfolding plan that includes young and old, old and new, the expected and the unexpected.
The moment Zechariah’s speech is restored, he praises God! The neighbors are filled with a fearfully appropriate recognition that surely the Lord is present in this place. Zechariah’s song of praise and prophecy (here in Luke 1) is known as the Benedictus after the first word in the Latin translation (in the same way that Mary’s song is called the Magnificat). Zechariah’s song begins by praising God for raising up “a horn of salvation” that is a mighty savior. This isn’t who he understands John to be, but who John will clear a path for - who he believes God is sending.
It seems that Zechariah’s season of silence has been transformative. For months, he could not speak the language of reasoned objection or priestly authority. He had to listen, watch, and receive – observing Elizabeth’s pregnancy, pondering the meaning of Gabriel’s words, and living daily with the evidence of God’s promise unfolding despite his disbelief. His muteness was not punishment alone, but a forced retreat into reflection. What began as doubt ends in prophetic clarity. Zechariah’s personal miracle is the result of God’s merciful love.
Zechariah’s journey reveals that understanding (belief) sometimes comes through silence, waiting, listening, and watching God act – until trust replaces the need for proof.
On this last Sunday before Christmas, Advent’s invitation is to merciful love.
It’s the kind of love we feel for a creature who can’t take care of themselves, who can’t even say what they need. A bird with a broken wing, an abandoned puppy, a stray cat, an old man in an existential crisis… or like a newborn baby… who doesn’t have to do anything, or ask, to be loved. Our human hearts are designed to hold merciful love. Our hearts are made in God’s image and perhaps it’s a recognition of the same in other vulnerable creatures that compels our tenderness toward them. They are also made in God’s image. Merciful love is what God demonstrated for Zechariah – a full grown man, full of self-assurance, priestly piety, and doubt, AND God could see right past it all.
God is Merciful Love. Our invitation is to believe in the power of that Love, a love that not only comforts, but liberates. A love constructed with care, compassion, and courage, providing shelter and safety for the most vulnerable, the least of these, the doubters and denyers.
This kind of Love’s guardrails are grace and mercy.
Love does not demand or wait for perfection, but scoops us up in arms of unconditional care, where we are, as we are. Because Merciful Love cannot be earned. And God’s love doesn’t give up on us, therefore we cannot give up on ourselves or each other. [4]
There was a house on the street I grew up on that was always decorated for Christmas with blue lights. Only blue lights outlined the house, blue lights draped over all the shrubs. Blue candles in all the windows. It was so different from all the other houses on the street. Year after year, there it was. I liked it. It was pretty. It was peaceful. I think Zechariah would have been a blue-light Christmas sort of guy. I was surprised to learn in my study of Zechariah that he is considered the patron saint of “Longest Night” services, or what some people call “Blue Christmas.” These services typically honor: silence, waiting, grief, and hope that comes slowly rather than triumphantly.
I suspect many of us have had a season of disappointment, the ache of what we longed for delayed and delayed… Like Zechariah, you may have felt forced into silence, or simply had no words for what you couldn’t believe was happening…
Maybe you have felt like life kidnapped you to the underworld like Persephone, who spent half her year in darkness and the shadow of death.
These dormant seasons make space for intentional reflection — not forced cheer or easy answers, but room to sit with God when words fail.
But friends, even on December 21st, the longest night of the year, God’s love is dawning in and around us. Even on the longest night of your life, the sun will always rise again… The spring always comes. That is merciful Love.
Let the strange blue lights at Christmas be a sign for us that God is indeed at work in an unfolding plan that includes night and day, young and old, old and new, the expected and the unexpected.
May God give us the will to dream that what seems impossible is possible with God.
[1] Barlow, Liddy, Name Him Jesus, Christian Century
[2] Craddock, Fred Interpretation Series Commentary, Luke
[3] Craddock, Fred, Interpretation Series Commentary, Luke
[4] Illustrated Ministry The Will to Dream, Merciful Love, worship liturgy