December 1, 2019
First Presbyterian Church, Sterling IL
Christina Berry
The gospel reading for today, this first Sunday in Advent,
is from the first chapter of Luke.
Luke’s gospel is structured in such a way that will point us, over and over,
to the narrative of holiness, the fulfillment of the promise,
and the unfolding of God’s plan for all humankind.
As you know, our Advent theme this year is “Angels Among Us.”
The first Advent Angel we meet is in the temple, with Zechariah.
Zechariah and his wife Elizabeth were both of the priestly tribe,
and Zechariah was serving in the temple.
There were lots of priests, so they were divided into 24 groups,
each of which served twice a year for a week.
This was Zechariah’s week,
when he would offer sacrifices and blessings.
From each group, a list was compiled of those priests
who had never entered the sanctuary,
and those priests were drawn by lot to go into the holy of holies.
This chance usually occurred only once in a priest’s lifetime.
Let’s listen for God’s word to us from Luke 1:5-25
In the days of King Herod of Judea,
there was a priest named Zechariah,
who belonged to the priestly order of Abijah.
His wife was a descendant of Aaron, and her name was Elizabeth.
Both of them were righteous before God,
living blamelessly according to all the commandments
and regulations of the Lord.
But they had no children, because Elizabeth was barren,
and both were getting on in years.
Once when he was serving as priest before God
and his section was on duty,
he was chosen by lot, according to the custom of the priesthood,
to enter the sanctuary of the Lord and offer incense.
Now at the time of the incense offering,
the whole assembly of the people was praying outside.
Then there appeared to him an angel of the Lord,
standing at the right side of the altar of incense.
When Zechariah saw him, he was terrified; and fear overwhelmed him.
But 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.”
Zechariah said to the angel, “How will I know that this is so?
For I am an old man, and my wife is getting on in years.”
The angel replied, “I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God,
and I have been sent to speak to you and to bring you this good news.
But now, because you did not believe my words,
which will be fulfilled in their time,
you will become mute, unable to speak,
until the day these things occur.”
Meanwhile the people were waiting for Zechariah,
and wondered at his delay in the sanctuary.
When he did come out, he could not speak to them,
and they realized that he had seen a vision in the sanctuary.
He kept motioning to them and remained unable to speak.
When his time of service was ended, he went to his home.
After those days his wife Elizabeth conceived,
and for five months she remained in seclusion.
She said, “This is what the Lord has done for me
when he looked favorably on me and took away
the disgrace I have endured among my people.”
The word of the Lord.
Thanks be to God.
Once in a lifetime.
That was what Zechariah knew.
With more of his life behind him than ahead of him,
he was no young man.
Time was running out.
But at last he had been chosen to enter the holy of holies,
the inner part of the sanctuary, where God’s Spirit dwelt.
You may have heard, and I know that I have repeated it,
the legend that the priest had a rope tied around him,
so they could drag him out of the holy of holies if he died.
There’s no truth to that legend, but it gives you a sense
of the importance of this task Zechariah had been assigned.
Entering into the holy of holies was wondrous enough,
but to get there and be greeted by an angel…
what a once in a lifetime moment that was!
For most of us, being greeted by an angel is a “never in a lifetime” event.
We don’t even know if Zechariah finished his work in the holy of holies.
We do know that he was in there for an unusually long time.
The angel had brought a message of hope –
a promise that God’s plan was being fulfilled,
and that the long years of waiting would soon be over.
The last prophet of Israel that anyone had heard from was Malachi,
and that was generations ago.
The waiting would end with a birth –
not yet the birth of the Messiah,
but the birth of the one who would prepare the way: John.
Malachi had said there would be such a one:
“See, I am sending my messenger to prepare the way before me,
and the Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to his temple.
The messenger of the covenant in whom you delight—
indeed, he is coming, says the Lord of hosts.”
Zechariah, of course, could not believe it.
Like Abraham and Sarah before him,
to be told that he would father a son,
that his wife Elizabeth would give birth –
well, this was inconceivable.
“I’m old,” Zechariah told the angel.
“I’m Gabriel,” the angel answered.
You can’t argue with an archangel.
Saying you’re old won’t get you anywhere –
Abraham and Sarah found that out.
So Zechariah was struck dumb – unable to speak until the child was born.
And Elizabeth, probably just as dumbfounded, conceived,
and the child she would bear would be John the Baptist.
He would be the one to prepare the way,
so call people to repentance,
to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.
but to get there and be greeted by an angel…
what a once in a lifetime moment that was!
For most of us, being greeted by an angel is a “never in a lifetime” event.
We don’t even know if Zechariah finished his work in the holy of holies.
We do know that he was in there for an unusually long time.
The angel had brought a message of hope –
a promise that God’s plan was being fulfilled,
and that the long years of waiting would soon be over.
The last prophet of Israel that anyone had heard from was Malachi,
and that was generations ago.
The waiting would end with a birth –
not yet the birth of the Messiah,
but the birth of the one who would prepare the way: John.
Malachi had said there would be such a one:
“See, I am sending my messenger to prepare the way before me,
and the Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to his temple.
The messenger of the covenant in whom you delight—
indeed, he is coming, says the Lord of hosts.”
Zechariah, of course, could not believe it.
Like Abraham and Sarah before him,
to be told that he would father a son,
that his wife Elizabeth would give birth –
well, this was inconceivable.
“I’m old,” Zechariah told the angel.
“I’m Gabriel,” the angel answered.
You can’t argue with an archangel.
Saying you’re old won’t get you anywhere –
Abraham and Sarah found that out.
So Zechariah was struck dumb – unable to speak until the child was born.
And Elizabeth, probably just as dumbfounded, conceived,
and the child she would bear would be John the Baptist.
He would be the one to prepare the way,
so call people to repentance,
to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.
Advent is a season of preparation.
Somehow, the significance of preparation
tends to get lost in the thrill of anticipation.
But when all our hopes and dreams are about to be fulfilled,
we can forget about all the preparation that leads up to that moment.
John will come to prepare a way for Christ to come,
and Christ will come so that all the hopes of all the world will be answered.
The hope we have in Christ is far more than simply salvation.
We prepare for the one that is to come with hope,
not for our individual salvation,
but for far more than that.
In Jesus’ first sermon, he describes the reason he has come.
He says: The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to let the oppressed go free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.
That goes far beyond any hopes of Zechariah, or Elizabeth,
or John the Baptist, or Jerusalem, or Israel, or you or me.
That is world changing hope,
good news beyond anything we ever hoped for.
Somehow, the significance of preparation
tends to get lost in the thrill of anticipation.
But when all our hopes and dreams are about to be fulfilled,
we can forget about all the preparation that leads up to that moment.
John will come to prepare a way for Christ to come,
and Christ will come so that all the hopes of all the world will be answered.
The hope we have in Christ is far more than simply salvation.
We prepare for the one that is to come with hope,
not for our individual salvation,
but for far more than that.
In Jesus’ first sermon, he describes the reason he has come.
He says: The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to let the oppressed go free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.
That goes far beyond any hopes of Zechariah, or Elizabeth,
or John the Baptist, or Jerusalem, or Israel, or you or me.
That is world changing hope,
good news beyond anything we ever hoped for.
Sometimes Christian teachers want to separate Christian hope
from justice and peace,
from justice and peace,
as if personal salvation and the promise of heaven
are the only reason Christ was born.
They want to say that our work is about salvation, not justice.
But the hope we have in Christ is about far, far more
than going to heaven or avoiding hell.
are the only reason Christ was born.
They want to say that our work is about salvation, not justice.
But the hope we have in Christ is about far, far more
than going to heaven or avoiding hell.
Mark Achtemeier, a respected Presbyterian theologian, writes:
“[T]he New Testament insists that God’s re-creation of the world
has begun in the work of Christ and the Holy Spirit.
It is important to emphasize here that God is not
simply re-making that little corner of creation occupied by the church.
The Bible assures us that God is re-creating and perfecting the entire world.
This is why the church confesses that Jesus is Lord
not just of the church, but also of all creation. …
Presbyterian Christians have always recognized that,
along with our deliverance from the powers of death and sin,
God’s restoration of the fallen world involves also
the healing of our corrupt and broken social relationships.
God’s coming transformation of the world involves
the healing of human institutions as well as the healing of human hearts.”[1]
Achtemeier goes on to quote John Calvin.
He refers to Calvin’s commentary on Genesis 1:28,
in which Calvin observes how God
originally set human beings on the earth
to share the blessings of creation
in such a way that all had enough to meet their needs.
Calvin wrote: “Any inequality which is contrary to this arrangement
is nothing else than a corruption of nature which proceeds from sin.”
Achtemeier concludes: “So we can be confident that our justice work,
no less than our preaching,
proclaims the joyous hope of God’s coming kingdom
to a needy and waiting world.[2]
The hope promised to Zechariah, to Elizabeth, to us,
is this restoration of all of heaven and earth, in Christ.
The hope promised to us is this joyous hope
of God’s coming kingdom to a needy and waiting world.
It’s worth remembering, though,
that we are the place where hope is born.
Hope has to take hold, so that we prepare.
Hope has to grow, slowly and gradually, so that we believe.
Hope has to put forth its tiny tendrils, like a bulb planted in the fall,
until the ground is warm enough for it to bloom.
Hope must be born before it is fulfilled.
To hope is to wait, sometimes in silence.
The hopes we never express are like that:
the hopes that we don’t dare to speak, don’t dare to believe.
Usually those hopes are not for something we can attain on our own,
like weight loss or nicer clothes.
Usually those hopes are not for something material,
like a big house or a fancy trip or a new car.
Maybe those are goals, but they are all things that are within our power,
mostly, to make happen.
No, the secret and unspoken hopes we have
are for something much more grand,
much more important, much more meaningful.
Perhaps they are hopes for health,
or for love to come into our lives,
or for a broken relationship to be healed.
“[T]he New Testament insists that God’s re-creation of the world
has begun in the work of Christ and the Holy Spirit.
It is important to emphasize here that God is not
simply re-making that little corner of creation occupied by the church.
The Bible assures us that God is re-creating and perfecting the entire world.
This is why the church confesses that Jesus is Lord
not just of the church, but also of all creation. …
Presbyterian Christians have always recognized that,
along with our deliverance from the powers of death and sin,
God’s restoration of the fallen world involves also
the healing of our corrupt and broken social relationships.
God’s coming transformation of the world involves
the healing of human institutions as well as the healing of human hearts.”[1]
Achtemeier goes on to quote John Calvin.
He refers to Calvin’s commentary on Genesis 1:28,
in which Calvin observes how God
originally set human beings on the earth
to share the blessings of creation
in such a way that all had enough to meet their needs.
Calvin wrote: “Any inequality which is contrary to this arrangement
is nothing else than a corruption of nature which proceeds from sin.”
Achtemeier concludes: “So we can be confident that our justice work,
no less than our preaching,
proclaims the joyous hope of God’s coming kingdom
to a needy and waiting world.[2]
The hope promised to Zechariah, to Elizabeth, to us,
is this restoration of all of heaven and earth, in Christ.
The hope promised to us is this joyous hope
of God’s coming kingdom to a needy and waiting world.
It’s worth remembering, though,
that we are the place where hope is born.
Hope has to take hold, so that we prepare.
Hope has to grow, slowly and gradually, so that we believe.
Hope has to put forth its tiny tendrils, like a bulb planted in the fall,
until the ground is warm enough for it to bloom.
Hope must be born before it is fulfilled.
To hope is to wait, sometimes in silence.
The hopes we never express are like that:
the hopes that we don’t dare to speak, don’t dare to believe.
Usually those hopes are not for something we can attain on our own,
like weight loss or nicer clothes.
Usually those hopes are not for something material,
like a big house or a fancy trip or a new car.
Maybe those are goals, but they are all things that are within our power,
mostly, to make happen.
No, the secret and unspoken hopes we have
are for something much more grand,
much more important, much more meaningful.
Perhaps they are hopes for health,
or for love to come into our lives,
or for a broken relationship to be healed.
Perhaps they are hopes for peace,
for answers to questions we do not dare to ask out loud.
That kind of hope is the yearning of the world.
It is the longing for what we know could happen,
but cannot make manifest alone.
Emily Dickinson wrote:
“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -[3]
This is the hope that Christ has already brought and will bring,
the hope that is ready to be born in us anew.
Perhaps we too will fall silent,
in the great and beautiful mystery of that silent hope.
Hope will continue to sing,
and we will hear its song in the voice of the angels.
Amen.
[1] Mark Achtemeier, “Biblical Justice.” Presbyterians Today, April 2005. https://www.presbyterianmission.org/what-we-believe/biblical-justice/
[2] ibid
[3] Emily Dickinson #314 “Hope is the thing with feathers.”
for answers to questions we do not dare to ask out loud.
That kind of hope is the yearning of the world.
It is the longing for what we know could happen,
but cannot make manifest alone.
Emily Dickinson wrote:
“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -[3]
This is the hope that Christ has already brought and will bring,
the hope that is ready to be born in us anew.
Perhaps we too will fall silent,
in the great and beautiful mystery of that silent hope.
Hope will continue to sing,
and we will hear its song in the voice of the angels.
Amen.
[1] Mark Achtemeier, “Biblical Justice.” Presbyterians Today, April 2005. https://www.presbyterianmission.org/what-we-believe/biblical-justice/
[2] ibid
[3] Emily Dickinson #314 “Hope is the thing with feathers.”
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