And You, Child

When the angel Gabriel appeared to Zechariah and told him that he and his wife, Elizabeth, were going to have a son and that his name was to be John, Zechariah couldn’t believe it. He and Elizabeth were old. They had been faithful, but they had not had children.

Zechariah wanted to believe the angel, but he couldn’t risk getting Elizabeth’s hopes up. It had been hard on them to be childless. It had been especially hard on Elizabeth, barren all those years. “How shall I know this?” What proof will you give me?

And Gabriel’s response it to silence Zechariah – completely. He could make no sound until the promises of the angel came to pass. Nine long months, no words, no talking with Elizabeth about having a child, no sharing the news with family and friends. Silence until the baby was born and on the 8th day taken to the Temple to be circumcised and named. Neighbors and family all gather and they all assume he will be named after his father, Zechariah. But Mary says his name will be “John” which is confusing because that is not a family name. Mary is insistent, so they turn to Zechariah, who writes this message, “His name is John.” And immediately his voice returns, he is filled with the Holy Spirit, and he sings praise and prophecy.

But his song is more than the song of a proud and hopeful father because his suffering has been about more than not having children. He has questioned God, he has cried out why. How long will it be changed to will it ever happen changed to how will we make the best of what we do have…as the years went by with no child, years went by with death stalking the land, empires trampled and exiled them. N.T. Wright describes Zechariah’s state of mind as he breaks forth in song as a response to “God acting at last, finally doing what he had promised many centuries ago, and doing at a time when the people had had their fill of hatred and oppression.”

As Zechariah stood there in the Temple with his newborn son, hope surged up in him. He saw this child through God’s eyes – full of possibility, full of promise. God is not through with us yet.

Zechariah praised God, and he laid down the tablet on which he acknowledged God’s claim on this child’s life, and wrote the word “John.” And took his son in his arms and gazed into his eyes. And you, Child, you will prepare the way for the coming of God.

You, Child, will give knowledge of salvation to God’s people – you will tell the story, you will share the Good News. Zechariah sings to John that the message God will speak through him has three parts: The Good News that their sins are forgiven; the Good News of light for those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, and the Good News that our feet will be guided into the way of peace.

I don’t know about you, but when I gaze into the eyes of children, I see possibility, I see promise. I am reminded that God is not through with us yet. Because God intends for every one of us to have someone who names us as God’s own and say “And you, Child, will prepare the way for the coming of God.”

Next Sunday we begin preparing for the birth of Jesus. We start preparing the way for God to be born into our world. And we have a message to speak.

It is a message of forgiveness. Our sins, our wrongs, our failures are forgiven. And that doesn’t just mean that we don’t have to pay for them. It means they are no more. Our sins that had separated us from God are gone, and nothing separates us from God. And you, child, will share that message.

It is a message of light for the dark and shadow places where we fear, where we walk near death, where we doubt and feel alone. When we sit alone in the bottom of a dark pit, and we look around us and know that no one can join us in that pit. No one understands how dark it is. No one can acknowledge how deep it is. The message is that we are not alone in that pit, and the One who sits beside us ever so gently, so our eyes don’t have to adjust, is bringing light. And you, child, will share that message.

It is a message of peace. God comes to guide our feet in the way of peace. The Hebrew word for peace, “shalom,” doesn’t just mean the absence of war and conflict. Peace means wholeness – everything that leads to life and good. And you, Child, will share that message.

Last night we hosted 14 homeless guests, people who find themselves at the margins, people for whom struggle is daily and painful. People in whom God sees possibility, and we are called to prepare the way. Toni greeted me as a friend she was glad to see. And I rejoiced that the message of forgiveness, of relationship, was taking hold. Patricia needed a hug, and I rejoiced that the message of forgiveness, of connection, was spoken. James talked about his college days and classes at Missou Law, and I was reminded to sit in the pit with him, for surely he is going through dark times that he never dreamed he would find himself in. Jessica worried about her mom, because when it is warm she sleeps on her back porch so that she can look out for her, but it was too cold, so she had to seek shelter. The dark pit of broken relationship seemingly too deep to climb out of. And by sitting in the pit and listening, the light filtered in. Marilyn, new to sobriety, asked about AA meetings. Ruth, in her third night of homelessness in her life, was thankful for a safe place, for fellowship and good food, for a warm bed. Anthony, a chronically homeless grandfatherly gentleman, watched the football game, talked to the kids, and causally chatted with James and Jerome as they played chess.

Together, we shared God’s message, a message of forgiveness and relationship, a message of presence that brings light in the dark pits of our lives, and a message of wholeness and peace. And you, Child, you too, will go before the Lord to prepare his ways. You, too.