A LIGHT FROM HEAVENReading: Luke 1: 67-79
In seeking to tell a friend the story of how God’s promises were fulfilled in Jesus, Luke writes, “It all begins with a Jewish priest, Zechariah.” God’s great plan of redemption for the world was not just an overnight thought, a quick fix. It had been in his heart and mind for all eternity. His plans were laid beyond space and time, but entered space and time in order to be fulfilled. This, then, was the time and Elizabeth and Zechariah were people of destiny, as was their promised son. Zechariah found it humanly impossible to grasp. He needed time to absorb all that he had heard. Time was given. “Since you didn’t believe what I said,” said Gabriel, “you won’t be able to speak until the child is born.” For the whole nine months Zechariah was not able to utter a single word, and when he did speak the first words were to name his little son John, as the angel had dictated. Then the Holy Spirit came upon him and he gave this marvellous prophecy that we have come to know, revere and love as the Benedictus. From beginning to end it is a song of hope. Past, present and future are all gathered up in these wonderful words. They pierce our darkness with a gleam of light, our hearts are lifted up and we know, in a place beyond knowing, that God’s promise to us will be fulfilled.
Hope is in short supply these days, on a personal, a national and an international level. One of the things that kept the flame of hope alight for Zechariah was when he looked back and saw the faithfulness of God and remembered his promises. He had plenty of time to do that back home in his village in the hill country of Judea. He would have reflected on how, right throughout the ages from the time the sacred covenant had been made with their father in the faith, Abraham, God had kept his promise to his people. The hope fulfilled in yesterday enabled him to trust God for the present and to look forward to the future with expectancy. In the nine months of silence hope was reborn for Zechariah and would remain undimmed and unquenched for the rest of his days. So he sings out his song of hope. Zechariah’s song is a prophetic song. God in his mercy was sending them a mighty Saviour from the royal line of David, his servant, just as he promised through his prophets centuries before. And as he looked at the little eight-day old baby lying in Elizabeth’s arms, Zechariah knew that everything Gabriel had told him was true. This tiny baby would grow into a man such as Israel had never experienced before, even in the days of Elijah. Zechariah would not live to see it, but in that moment he could see in the Spirit. His son would prepare the way for this mighty Saviour. He would tell the people how to find salvation through forgiveness of their sins. He would be so nurtured in the faith that he would be single-minded in his devotion to God and in his fearless proclamation of the One who was to come after him. He was to be the great preparer. What was so remarkable about him was that he never sought to be anything else. He fulfilled perfectly the God-given vocation for his life. John was not being falsely modest. He knew who he was. He knew what he had been called to do, and God had chosen his person well. He did not seek glory for himself. His burning desire was to point others beyond himself to the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.
I like to think that in the mercy of God, Zechariah and Elizabeth were kept from seeing what their son’s end would be, that they were left to simply rejoice in this awesome gift and responsibility that now was theirs. And on that day Zechariah knew, and in knowing sang it out for all to hear, that the light from heaven was about to break upon his people, that after so many long years of sitting in darkness and in the shadow of death, hope was now shining with a brightness that no darkness would ever be able to extinguish and that for them, and for all who would ever believe, the path of peace would open up before them with the Son of God as their guide. And the key to that peace would be in repentance and acceptance of that forgiveness that he would win for them through his death and resurrection.
When we think of today’s world we could describe it as death-oriented rather than life oriented. So many individuals, communities and even nations are walking in the shadow of death, surrounded by the dark forces of poverty, disease, famine, violence, oppression and terror. Like the people of old we have longed for a prophetic voice, for those with a fearless stance who will speak out courageously and with hope for all the forgotten, the marginalized, for those who feel lost and abandoned and for ourselves when we feel helpless and overwhelmed. Our hope can be fragile because we have placed it in part in human beings who have feet of clay, and in institutions that are far from perfect, even the church. Maybe in these days of Advent we need to seek moments of quiet where hope can be reborn for us, where we recognise it as a gift from God himself, where we pray that we might be so possessed by hope that never again would we be able to break free from its clutches so that wherever we go and whoever we encounter we might lift the veil of depression, fatalism and defeatism, bringing new life to the many who live in fear and bearing with us something of the light from heaven, the promise of mercy, the message of forgiveness into this present darkness. Advent is a time for spiritually standing on tiptoe as we wait again for the light from heaven to break on us. Because of God’s tender mercy, I believe it will as we wait expectantly for him to come in a new way to guide us into the path of peace. If God is writing a new chapter in his dealings with humankind, wouldn’t it be awesome if, centuries down the line from that first Advent a modern day St. Luke would write, “It all begins with a few people who were meeting together in faith and friendship.”