Saturday, December 19, 2020           (today’s lectionary)
Love you more!
An angel of the Lord appeared to the woman and said to her, “Though you are barren and have had no children, yet you will conceive and bear a son. The woman went and told her husband … The priest Zechariah and Elizabeth were barren, and advanced in years. When Zechariah entered the sanctuary of the Lord an angel came to him. “Do not be afraid, because your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you shall name him John. Many will rejoice, and he will be great in the sight of the Lord. Even from his mother’s womb, he will be filled with the Holy Spirit.”
Parents are usually the first to know, but not this time. It was the angel Gabriel, for whom apparently a thousand years is like a day, who gave both sets of parents the birth announcement. “Come and see,” Jesus would say. Gabriel said it too. Let it be done unto you.
The woman bore a son and named him Samson. The boy grew up and the Lord blessed him; the Spirit of the Lord stirred in him … So has the Lord done for me at a time when he has seen fit.
Waiting with other fathers while their wives were giving birth, Bill Cosby helped them imagine their own birthing experience, could it only be. For his part, Cosby gave birth to a sailboat, as I recall. We laughed and laughed. At least the men did. Mothers remember the days of their fulfillment with great joy and great pain, and what laughter there might be is never cheap.
Samson’s father Manoah and John’s dad Zechariah stood by while all these miracles happened within their wives. Zechariah, at least, was blessed with the gift of silence. His mouth simply would not open, but surely that was more a gift than curse, just as when God blocked the gates of Eden.
“This hurts me more than it hurts you.” It’s for your own good. “You’ll thank me in the end.” Those platitudes ring true after we’ve stopped feeling sorry for ourselves. Real victims are rare, compared to those of us who feel that way because we don’t get what we want.
You are my hope, O Lord; my trust, O God, from my youth. On you I depend from birth, from my mother’s womb you are my strength. From my youth I proclaim your wondrous deeds.
Zechariah must have had many conversations with the Lord after Gabriel left him mute. His mind spoke volumes:
“When you come to us so late in our lives, even as we are preparing to die, I feel surprised and confused.”
But Zechariah, with me time does not fly as it does for you. There is a fullness of time here that you might only begin to understand.
I get a glimpse of what you mean, Lord. Only a glimpse! These are things too great for me to understand, but I no longer feel confused.
Oh my friend, Zechariah, you are blessed with this. You begin to see that understanding is not all it’s cracked up to be. Now you can stop asking why and start asking, “What’s next?”
I’m a priest, Lord. Your priest, now that I think of it. I’ve asked “why” all my life, and come up with answers sometimes that make sense to me, and to others as well. But I see that my answers are not what you’re looking for from me. There is stillness, and obedience, devotion and reverence that matter much more.
Yes. I have created you to be still and devoted before me, and to show others that path. This is your priesthood, Zechariah. This gift will never grow old, and in giving it you will never grow weary. Hear me, and be loved into the deepest parts of your soul.
Come save us, O Lord, without delay!
Oh Lord, how I love you.
And, my friend, I love you more.
(Judges 13-Samson’s birth announcement, Psalm 71, Luke 1-John’s birth announcement
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