Zechariah’s Silence
Since our last class, I’ve pondered Zechariah’s questioning of the angel, Gabriel, and Gabriel’s reply — in particular the response that Zechariah would be rendered mute. As some in our class pointed out, Zechariah’s question (Luke 1:18) was natural and not that different from Abram’s question in Genesis 15:8 or, for that matter, from Mary’s question in Luke 1:34. So why was Zechariah, literally, “dumbstruck”?
Easiest to distinguish is Mary’s question. If you read the verses closely (or look at the greek words from which they are translated), Mary asks how she, a virgin, will conceive. She doesn’t ask for proof, she simply asks, “how can this be?” Zechariah, on the other hand, asked for proof — “How will I know that this is so?” In essence, Gabriel’s answer was two-fold: (1) you’ll know when it happens because it will have happened (“my words . . . will come true at their appointed time”); and (2) you’ll know right now by this sign — that you won’t speak until then!
Abram’s question is a little harder to distinguish. In Genesis 15:8, after being promised possession of the land of Canaan, he asks, “how can I know that I shall possess it?” In his Commentary, Wesley says this question did not “proceed from distrust of God’s promise”, but from a desire to strengthen his faith, for Abram had already believed (Genesis 15:6), and a ratification of the promise for his posterity, that they might also believe. This seems a little more like hair-splitting to me, but the answer in the next several verses is pretty dark. It makes you wonder if Abram had believed unconditionally, would his posterity have suffered through the exile and all of the trouble since?
Without going into Abram and Sarah’s reactions in Genesis, Chapter 17, the only thing that I can draw from this is that questioning divine grace is a mortal, human reaction. Moreover, Zechariah — the older, trained priest – though righteous, was more incredulous than Mary, the young virgin.
In Luke 18:17 (and Mark 10:15), we’re told that “whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it”. Like the lyrics to the song:
“When I was just a child I knew
Why rain fell and flowers grew.
The I believe came easy then,
And I can still remember when . . .”
Could it be that the answer is as simple as that? In physics we’ve learned about the power of the atom. Two thousand years ago, nuclear physics wasn’t known, but Jesus told his disciples that even the faith of a grain of mustard could uproot trees and move mountains (Luke 17:6, Matthew 17:20).
How do we increase our faith — our assurance of things hoped for and conviction of things not seen?

Tom, you ask “How do we increase our faith — our assurance of things hoped for and conviction of things not seen?”, but this question assumes nothing is seen. As a maturing Christian I have realized that you have to look for those signs that will increase your faith.
What I am trying to say is that If we take the time to look around us in this world, amid all of the bad things that the media puts in from of our eyes, there are a lot of positive, uplifting, faith building signs all around us. Any examples I could offer would be very personal and I think each of us needs to step back and take a big picture look once in awhile. You will see many beautiful faith building signs of Christ’s love at work. If you don’t see them, then maybe it is time to help in Christ’s efforts to spread his love to all human beings.
Gary
I agree that there are many things we can see that may confirm or increase our faith — saw a great sunset tonight for one.
The good things that are “there for the seeing” can increase our faith — faith that enables us to be sure of things hoped for and “convinced” of what we can’t see (Hebrews 11:1).
So, taking the time to see the good that God has placed before us is one means of building faith — what other ways can we strengthen our faith so that we don’t stand mute waiting for the Kingdom to come, but proclaim the Good News now? (Don’t you know that Zechariah was about to bust for nine whole months — if his faith hadn’t faltered, he’d have been able to proclaim what he’d been told from the steps of the Temple).
When I read this (almost a week late, he blushingly admitted), I thought of an old adage I once read that is popular in the scientific community: “Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence.”
It is reasonable, as our study’s author pointed out (as well as Tom and Gary), for us ask questions when we experience the inexplicable, and that natural curiosity (doubt?) often includes matters of faith. Sometimes, though, the answer to our question just isn’t apparent — but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one.
In 1906, the great Dr. Albert Schweitzer published his tome “The Quest of the Historical Jesus” — a very scholarly (and mind-numbing, I might add) look at all the research that had been done to that point on the human Jesus, not on the spiritual Christ. His conclusion, if I remember correctly (always dangerous) is that we can only discover the human Jesus by being open to the unexpected. One reviewer wrote, “Schweitzer thought he discovered a Jesus who was a prophet of the end of the world, who expected to judge the earth as the Son of Man, and who died tragically mistaken. Even so, he still serves as a beacon of spiritual force for the ages.”
Well, that’s what Dr. S had to say … to that point. The closing words of his book are to my mind some of the most beautiful written about our own individual search for Jesus the Christ (and they are the text for one of my favorite choir anthems, ‘He Comes To Us’). They are worth considering, especially during this season of Advent:
“He comes to us as One unknown, without a name, as of old, by the lake-side, He came to those men who knew Him not. He speaks to us the same word: ‘Follow thou me!’ and sets us to the tasks which He has to fulfill for our time. He commands. And to those who obey Him, whether they be wise or simple, He will reveal Himself in the toils, the conflicts, the sufferings which they shall pass through in His fellowship, and as an ineffable mystery, they shall learn in their own experience Who He is.”
Thanks, Danny, for reminding us of the lyrics from “He Comes to Us”. It’s one of my favorites as well.
The Chancel Choir sang some of my all-time favorites yesterday. Thanks for all the time and energy spent.
Yes, the music Sunday morning was wonderful — truly wonderful.
Continuing our discussion, however, I disagree with Dr. Schweitzer — despite the beautiful closing words he wrote that inspired an equally beautiful hymn. Reading our lesson scripture from this past Sunday, I was struck again by the fact that the One who came to us was known. Luke is all about the fact that he was known from before his birth — “and you will name him Jesus”.
Zechariah asked for proof of a kind — from an angel, a messenger of God. That was the trouble — God is so completely other that the faith required of mere humans is simply beyond the capacity of most of us acting on our own. We may have the will to obey, but we lack the strength — without Christ.
Christ came to us as Jesus, Emmanuel, God with Us, the Word dwelling among mortal flesh as mortal flesh. Through faith in Christ — our brother — we are the adopted children of God. Through Christ we are put in right relationship with Him. We are also enabled to overcome the power of sin — of separation from God — in how we live our lives. As Wesley taught: in reconciling us with God, Christ does something for us; “in begetting us again he does the work in us.”
When Gabriel appeared to Mary he said “Greetings, favored one” (or “Hail Mary, full of grace”, depending on your translation). This can be mistaken in the same way that Christ’s words to Thomas may be mistaken: “blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe.” (John 20:29) In neither case is this a blessing earned through merit, position or status– it is through the grace of Christ alone — it is not a reward; we are blessed.
Faith, then, is not so much about belief as it is about choice — a surrendering to God through Christ — that permits Christ to change us — to remake us; to make obedience not only possible, but assured.
Put another way, He comes to us as ones unknown, and makes us known to God.
After reading the book, my brain was so numb that I would have believed nearly anything at that point. Still, the anthem is beautiful. However, I think I agree with Dr. S … to a point. Or maybe it’s the relationship with Christ that is revealed to each of us and not so much the Christ himself … or herself. Whaddayathink?
It’s enough to boggle the mind for certain.
“I am the good shepherd: the good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep.” John 10:11
From a soteriological standpoint we understand this in a personal way, aided by the Spirit. We turn and say to a doubting world, “I know because of the reality of God’s presence in my life!” But what are we really saying?
By concentrating on the theology of Christ, we risk losing sight of that which we celebrate each year — the incarnation. Jesus lived as a human. He was — for those few years — bound not only by mortal flesh, but by time.
I’m telling you, it really does boggle the mind.
We’ve all heard the question, “Do you have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ?” In answering that question, we need to be mindful of not reducing Him to a disembodied “presence”. That borders on gnosticism.
Jesus lived — he walked the earth, and could only walk so far. He was a person — subject to temptation and to emotion. He was a particular individual — a carpenter’s son in a small Jewish town of the Second Temple Period, born into a society looking for the Messiah and the coming of the Eternal Kingdom. He was human — he needed to eat to survive, and asked us particularly to eat and drink in remembrance of him. He was mortal and so would die.
Sometimes we get mixed up and forget this: because it boggles the mind.
Dr. Schweitzer, in looking for the historical Jesus, discovered an eschatological prophet who died tragically mistaken. If that’s all there was to it, then he would indeed come to us as one unknown. But looking at Jesus historically we must view him through the lens of those who lived at that time in history and knew him. Their testimony is that he died and then rose from the dead (need a whole ‘nother post on the difference in resurrection and resuscitation). Thus the mystery of our faith, “Christ has died, Christ has risen, Christ will come again.”
It is this — the Risen One — that separates Christ from a mere tragically mistaken prophet, no matter how compelling his message of love, goodwill and peace.
It is this that boggles the mind.
We know Him, but maybe as the prodigal knew his father. As He comes out to meet us, we fail to recognize Him at first, having been away for so long. But He welcomes us and tells us, “you are mine own”, and then — as Danny says — He is revealed to each of us. It’s just a little difficult to know Him personally and as a human who lived 2000 years ago — to know him spiritually and logically and not be afraid to try to reconcile the two regardless of the consequences (take up thy cross).
“I am the good shepherd; I know my own and my own know me.” John 10:14
Yes, Lord, it does boggle the mind.