…the angel said to him, “Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you will name him John. You will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth, for he will be great in the sight of the Lord. He must never drink wine or strong drink; even before his birth he will be filled with the Holy Spirit. He will turn many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God. With the spirit and power of Elijah he will go before him, to turn the hearts of parents to their children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous, to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.”
I didn’t hear much after “Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son.” She would what? We would have what? How? Why now? Why not… The questions filled me, knocking each other out of the way, jostling for attention. I will have a son? Elizabeth will bear a son? I am to have a small child in the house, to teach and raise? I am to have a namesake?
Ah no, I remember that much from what followed. He is to be called John. The angel, or whatever he was, said a lot of other things about this child yet to be, almost like someone already knew him quite well. An ascetic, he would be. A leader. A prophet. A holy man.
I only asked one thing – you wouldn’t have thought it so bad. “How will I know? I’m old, and Elizabeth is long past childbearing, not that that we were ever able to conceive.” How I can I now conceive the inconceivable?
“I said so,” said Gabriel, like that should be enough. “God sent me. You think an angel is going to show up in front of you and tell you something imaginary?” And for my temerity in asking a logical question, he made me mute. He took my speech. He took my language, my precious words, my ability to express, to convince, to curse, to bless.
Or did he give me something? The time, the space, the silence, to digest the crazy promise, the mission my son, my child, my already-beloved will have?
Time and space to try to grasp the promise of salvation, of a savior – for I know my son is to be connected to one who will deliver humanity, all the world, even the cosmos…
Time and space to contemplate being the father of one who will speak for God, a teacher, a path-maker, going before the coming savior, making hearts ready to receive that new life.
Time and space to absorb mercy, mercy I have never felt I needed, as a good and upright man from a priestly line. Mercy not only for me, but for all who sit in shadows and hopelessness.
Mercy not only for sin; mercy that brings new life into being, as the dawn brings forth a new day… Mercy that makes whole.
Have I been made silent to receive that gift of peace?
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