“The Women of Christmas: With Heart and Soul and Voice” Luke 1: 57-79

We all probably have stories of times that we lost our voice. Times that we struggled to speak. For me, one such time came at the final day at my previous parish. I was to preach three services and have a send-off party. My family was in for the day. I made it through the 7:45am service with the aid of the microphone, but by the second service all that was left was the faintest hint of a whisper. I literally had to shout for the microphone to pick up anything at all. It was so uncomfortable to not be able to express myself through the gift of the voice. 

Emily Freeman, on her podcast The Next Right Thing, shared this story about singer John Mayer and silence in a recent episode. In the autumn of 2012 singer, John Mayer had surgery on his vocal cords. He was ordered not to speak for two months or sing for six. Here’s what he wrote at the onset of his two months of silence: 

“Well, here I am. Silent for the next few months, no singing for probably six, but all signs point to this being the last step in getting to perform again. I’ll try and post more, but I’ve gotten really good at keeping my thoughts to myself and I don’t exactly see anybody starving for my take on things. But it might be fun to offer some kind of window into this very odd and slightly beautiful time.” – John Mayer, on his Tumblr page 

In other words, John Mayer had an intentional time of silence in his life in order to find healing. In order to be able to have any chance to do again the thing that he loved the most, he was going to have to do something that he probably couldn’t even think of doing on a good day. Be silent. 

Zechariah understood the pain and healing that could be found in silence. He was on an imposed silence from God, via Gabriel, in many ways. Some scholars think that he simply couldn’t talk. Others thought he may not be able to hear as well, meaning total silence in his world. But in the silence came a gift - time to think. Time to pray. Time to realize that even without speaking God was still present and God was still speaking. With or without voice, we can reach out to God. 

Zechariah was still silent when Elizabeth went into labor. The women of her family and a midwife from the community would have attended at the birth of the child while Zechariah was relegated outside with the men of the town to wait. Finally, after the couple being fearful of the how community would react, some of the same people who would have wondered why they didn’t have a child, were there to celebrate with them at the brith. 

A few days later, eight to be exact, there would have been a ceremony and celebration where the baby would be circumcised and name. And everyone seemed to have an opinion. Normally, the Father, the head of the household would speak the child’s name into existence. But with Zechariah still being mute, the relatives tried to speak for him. They suggested that the child bear his father’s name. But that was odd, it’s not how society worked nor was there any Biblical presidence in this matter. I recently heard it described by a Jewish expectant mother this way - you name your child after someone in your family, but not someone who lives with you or is currently living. So Elizabeth jumped in - saying no, the child will not be Zechariah, Jr. He will be named John. And the relatives bulked and scrutinized her for not following the customs of naming the child within the lineage of family names. But then Zechariah wrote out “his name is John.” Doing his duty. Speaking, without verbal words, the child’s name into the world, just as the angel Gabriel had suggested. And his tongue was loosed. 

I’m always struck that the first thing Zechariah did when he got his voice back was not complain or ask questions about why he had been silent, or even tell the story of his encounter with the angel Gabriel that led this this time of reflection. Instead, he praised God. Just as Mary composed her song of praise, her Magnificant, last week, Zechariah had prophetic words spilling out of his mouth. Words about the coming of the Messiah. And how John will be a prophet of the Most High. With those words, Zechariah went from being a priest, going about duties, to a prophet, telling of the coming of the Lord, who wasn’t even born yet. 

Mighty words that were being spoken over this child named John about the Lord’s blessing being upon him. But do you think that meant that John never experienced any hardship or pain? By no means. Fast forward about thirty years to John embracing his call. We find John in the wilderness, we don’t know why. We aren’t told what happened to Elizabeth or Zechariah, or what John’s life was like up to that point. Because he was selected by God for this special task we can assume that he lived a disciplined life since childhood. But now we find him in the wilderness - a good image for periods of waiting, especially during Advent, that seem rough and dry and uninhabitable. John had been waiting - waiting for the time to be upon him to announce the coming of the one who would redeem Israel. John knew that his call wasn’t about him - it was about his relationship to Jesus. He knew that he could resist the call or let it move through him for the sake of his people. So he began to cry out in the wilderness for people to repent. And some people listened! They started to turn away from themselves and their sin in order to move towards the Kingdom of God! The time was upon them. He truly lived into the prophetic words his father proclaimed so long ago. 

 Zechariah may not have known it, but his song was as much about his own son as it was about Jesus, the one yet to be born. We celebrate that in a particular moment in time this unbelievable thing happened, God gave us something to sing a song about, even in the midst of poverty and Roman oppression. In the midst of suffering, God came down to us. And for us he suffered, replacing his royal crown with one of thorns. And on the third day, the Son of God rose and conquered death. So we sing a song of thanksgiving. For not only did we suffer, but another suffered for us so that we may be free.

Zechariah is not singing a song of what he wants God to do, like sitting on Santa’s lap with a wish list. No, Zechariah sang of what God had been doing for ages and what God was going to continue to do. When are the moments that have lead you to sing a song of deep thanksgiving and what lead you to that moment? For God does save us. The God of mercy rescues us even from our darkest moments of despair. The true question is not if God intervenes, but if we are attuned enough to realize it, and give thanks both for what God has done in the past, where we have been, and where God is going to lead us to in the future. Amen.