A sermon preached at Calvary Presbyterian Church in San Francisco, CA

Dec 17, 2023

Introduction to Worship

Good morning and welcome to worship. Today we are marking the fourth Sunday of Advent and we will hear the Song of Zechariah. He was a priest of the line of Abijah, which stemmed back to the time of King David, when he appointed 24 families of the tribe of the Levites to pass the priesthood down to their descendants. This tradition made it through the wilderness wandering, and was re-established after the return from exile. 

Zechariah was a company man, in other words. His lineage goes all the way back to the Mayflower, to give an American illustration. As does that of his wife, Elizabeth.  She’s a descendant of Aaron, the brother of Moses. Anytime scripture names a woman and tells you her family, it’s worth noting. They will become the parents of John the Baptist.

And his song is one of hope sung to people in need of a good word. 

We’re going to hear one version of Zechariah’s song sung when we read scripture. But we are going to sing a version of it now too. You will join in on the refrain, which goes like this:

You have come to your people
and set them free. 

The Canticle of Zechariah
In the tender compassion of our God
the dawn from on high shall break upon us.

Blessed are you, Lord, the God of Israel,
you have come to your people and set them free.

You have raised up for us a mighty Savior,
born of the house of your servant David. [Refrain]

Through your holy prophets, you promised of old
to save us from our enemies,
from the hands of all who hate us,

to show mercy to our forebears,
and to remember your holy covenant. [Refrain]

This was the oath you swore to our father Abraham:
to set us free from the hands of our enemies,

And you, child, shall be called the prophet of the Most High,
for you will go before the Lord to prepare the way,

to give God’s people knowledge of salvation
by the forgiveness of their sins. [Refrain]

In the tender compassion of our God
the dawn from on high shall break upon us,

to shine on those who dwell in darkness
and the shadow of death,
and to guide our feet into the way of peace. [Refrain]

Scripture: 

Luke 1:5-25, 59-80

Sermon

If pastors were honest about it, Zechariah is one of the stories in scripture that makes us uneasy. He is one of our own, a priest, serving God in the temple in Jerusalem. If you remember back to your readings in Exodus about how the priests function in the temple—only one priest would go in and make the offering. Possible encounters with the Divine were not taken lightly, so only trained professional priests did this, and they had to draw straws for who would make the offering. 

“Do not try this at home” might be the sign on the wall. They would tie a rope around the waist of the priest who went in to make the offering, so they could pull his body out if he didn’t survive an encounter with God. 

So, if there was any place that Zechariah might have expected to meet a divine messenger, perhaps this was it.  

He walks in to the place where God lives, and the divine messenger walks in the door and speaks to him. But Zechariah doesn’t quite believe the angel.

Now, if Zechariah had encountered this angel in the produce section of Mollie Stone’s, or at a Warriors game, we could sympathize with him a little more. Because we can understand missing the Divine while you are in the midst of your busy life.

But he’s at church.  This is why pastors are uneasy about this text. We spend a lot of time in God’s house. We listen for God. Except of course, for when the divine speaks to us clearly and we miss it all together.

The angel gives him the usual angel stuff—do not be afraid, yada yada yada.  But some very specific instructions too—your prayer has been heard. Your wife will bear a son. His name will be John…

Zechariah, even in the midst of the divine presence, can’t put aside human details. Like Sarah and Abraham before him, and like us after, perhaps, Zechariah allows very human details and limitations to question God’s movement in the world. “How will I know that this is so? For I am an old man, and my wife is getting on in years….”

The “do not be afraid” message ends when Zechariah asks for proof. You can almost hear it in the reply can’t you? ‘I am Gabriel. I am God’s chief of staff and God sent me to you even though I have a lot of work on my plate already and I’m not sure why God didn’t send a lesser member of the heavenly host if you’re going to be so quarrelsome about this good news. Be very afraid.’

Zechariah won’t die in his encounter with the Divine. But he will lose his voice.  He won’t say another word until after John is born.

Losing your voice for 9 months would give you ample time, I suspect, to think about what you really want to say.

Listen again to what happened when John was born. 

On the eighth day they came to circumcise the child, and they were going to name him Zechariah after his father. But his mother said, ‘No; he is to be called John.’ They said to her, ‘None of your relatives has this name.’ Then they began motioning to his father to find out what name he wanted to give him. He asked for a writing-tablet and wrote, ‘His name is John.’ And all of them were amazed. Immediately his mouth was opened and his tongue freed, and he began to speak, praising God. 

Zechariah finally gets his voice back when he acknowledges his wife was correct (let it be noted) and verifies that this child is to be called John, as the angel said, even though everyone else thought his name should be Zechariah Junior.

I wonder about that. Why does Gabriel get involved with the naming of children? He tells Mary that her baby will be named Jesus. He tells Zechariah that his son will be named John. Was he afraid they’d go with Chad, and “Chad the Baptist” just didn’t sound right? 

Many of us pick names for our kids because we like the way they sound, or maybe they are family names. We may or may not know the meaning of the name when we pick it. My name, Marcella, is a very pretty and feminine sounding version of the name for the God of War, Mars, and means warlike, martial, and strong. I’m pretty sure my parents didn’t know that when they named me? But maybe? Who’s to say how militant and warlike I was as an infant.  It does sort of explain some things. 

But most names in the Bible are very intentional. John means “God is gracious”. Zechariah means “God remembers”. Jesus means “God saves”. I think we need all of those names and all of those reminders. John will grow up and call people to repentance. He is the one who will prepare the way for Jesus. Maybe it’s good to have that reminder that God is gracious to go alongside the message of repentance. 

Once Zechariah has his voice back, he utters twelve verses of poetry so beautiful I wonder if he had been composing it in silence those nine months.

“Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for God has looked favorably on his people and redeemed them. God has raised up a mighty savior for us in the house of their servant David, as the Lord spoke through the mouth of his holy prophets from of old.

And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High; for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways, to give knowledge of salvation to his people by the forgiveness of their sins.

By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.”

Zechariah’s voice is back and it bursts forth in praise and hope and promise and thanks.

The dawn from on high will break upon us.

The Lord we seek will suddenly come to his temple. There’s the good news, friends. God will become flesh and pitch a tent among mortals. That’s the good news for which we’re preparing now. Jesus’ birth, as far as Zechariah saw it, was God suddenly coming to his temple.

Advent is the time of preparation for our celebration of the birth of a baby in Bethlehem, 2,000 years ago. Of course, that baby has already been born. But Advent is more than preparing to remember something that happened long, long ago, in a Galilee far, far way. It is preparing to live it again, to be open for God to ‘be born in us’ today, as the hymn says.

A number of years ago, when some people were convinced the world was going to end because of some ancient Mayan calendar, remember that? Someone said, “I’m not afraid the world will end… I’m afraid it will stay the same”.

Our Advent hope is a reverse phrasing of that statement. Advent is hope the world will change, confidence it will not stay the same.

As our O Holy Night carol says, much like Zechariah’s song:
“A thrill of hope the weary soul rejoices for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn!”

And while we are not the hope of the world—come back Christmas Eve at 10 am, 5 pm or 8 pm to hear more about him—we are the ones to share that hope, and embody that hope. 

We show our Advent hope in the work we do for our community partners. To name a few of the ways, you sent Holiday cards to incarcerated people through the Ella Baker Center, you brought gifts for SafeHouse or Raphael House residents, you support our sanctuary families as they celebrate the holidays in a new country, you work at the food pantry to be sure our neighbors have food to eat. Thursday we will gather before the Longest Night Service for a pack a sack, making sack lunches to give to people who are hungry this season.

We show our Advent hope by expecting we will get a visit from God’s messenger as Zechariah did. It may or may not be the Angel Gabriel. But God may meet us in a coffee hour conversation, or a class, or worship, or choir rehearsal, or when we help our community partners. 

We show our Advent hope by gathering together and joining our voices in Zechariah’s song.

In the tender compassion of our God
the dawn from on high shall break upon us,
to shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death,
and to guide our feet into the way of peace. 

You have come to your people, and set them free. 

May it be so.
Amen