“The angel said: ‘Do not be afraid, Zechariah’”
Luke 1:13
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus.
Back in April of 1991, a former art history professor named Mary Manley of Northumberland, England decided to open a secondhand bookstore. When she told her husband, Stuart, he thought it was a great idea. And he suggested that they set it up in the front of an old, vacant, Victorian railway station.
But she didn’t want “a muddled, typical, secondhand bookshop,” she said. She wanted it to be organized and to make people feel comfortable and at home.
And in just a couple of months, they moved in, called it, “Barter Books,” and business began to take off.
And one day, as Stuart was rummaging through a box of old books, he noticed a colorful piece of paper, folded, and lying at the very bottom. When he pulled it out, he discovered that it was a poster, bright red, with the crown of the king, George VI, at the top. And with it were bold, bright letters that read: “Keep Calm and Carry On.” He liked it so much that he framed it, then hung it in the window of their bookshop.
It didn’t take long for customers to notice. Some even offered to buy it. And that prompted Stuart to find out just where it came from.
Apparently, the poster was created way back in 1939 at the very beginning of World War II, just before the Blitz, when German planes flew over Great Britain every night, bombing countless buildings and homes. The world had never seen anything like it--air raid sirens every night, citizens hiding in basements and subway stations, terrifying noise and explosions, fires and destruction, and a nightly death toll. And to make matters worse, everyone in the world, including the British government, expected Nazi Germany to invade at any time. It was their most frightening time in history.
That’s when the Ministry of Information created posters, 2 1/2 million of them, to be distributed and posted when the German invasion began.
But the invasion didn’t happen, so the posters were never distributed. And after the war was over, all the posters were destroyed, all except for two of them. And Stuart Manley of Northumberland, England found one of them at the bottom of a box of used books.
So he made copies of them. So far, he’s sold more than sixty thousand.
“Keep calm and carry on.” That’s a good message for the First Sunday in Advent.
If I were to ask you to tell me the Christmas story, where would you begin? Most would begin with the words of Luke chapter 2: “In those days, there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed.” That’s a beautiful way to begin to tell the Christmas story.
But others might want to step back to Luke chapter 1, when the angel Gabriel appeared to Mary and said, “Hail, O favored one, the Lord is with you!” Some might even want to go all the way back to the words of the prophet Isaiah: “For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given...and His name shall be called, Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”
You could say the Christmas story begins in any of those places.
But Luke, who told the Christmas story better than anyone of us ever could, began with a priest in the temple. Please turn in your Bible to page 1087. Luke chapter 1, verse 5: “In the days of Herod, king of Judea, there was a priest named Zechariah, of the division of Abijah. And he had a wife from the daughters of Aaron, and her name was Elizabeth. And they were both righteous before God, walking blamelessly in all the commandments and statutes of the Lord. But they had no child, because Elizabeth was barren, and both were advanced in years.”
Let’s stop there for a moment to see what’s going on.
It had been four hundred years since the Old Testament came to an end, four hundred long years of frustration, hope, and despair. “Behold, I send My messenger,” said the Lord, “and he will prepare the way before Me...He will purify the sons of Levi and refine them like gold and silver, and they will bring offerings in righteousness to the Lord.”
So the people waited, and waited, and waited some more.
Finally, after four hundred years of silence, the time came to dispatch the angel Gabriel from before the throne of heaven.
But where would he go, and to whom would the Lord send him?
Let’s look again at the text. Verse 5: “In the days of Herod, king of Judea, there was a priest named Zechariah, of the division of Abijah. And he had a wife from the daughters of Aaron, and her name was Elizabeth.”
Zechariah, it says. Of the division of Abijah. What’s it mean?
Historians tell us that there were quite a lot of priests at the time of Christ, as many as eighteen thousand. And since there were so many, they were divided into twenty-four groups, with each group, each division, serving only two weeks out of the year.
And not only was Zechariah a priest, he married the daughter of a priest, a woman named Elizabeth.
And as it says in verse 6: “They were both righteous before God, walking blamelessly in all the commandments and statutes of the Lord.”
There was just one problem. Verse 7: “But they had no child, because Elizabeth was barren, and both were advanced in years.”
Now verse 8: “Now while he was serving as priest before God when his division was on duty, according to the custom of the priesthood, he was chosen by lot to enter the temple of the Lord and burn incense. And the whole multitude of the people were praying outside at the hour of incense.”
And what happened just as soon as he stepped inside the temple of the Lord? Verse 11: “And there appeared to him an angel of the Lord standing on the right side of the altar of incense.”
An angel, Gabriel, a “mighty warrior of God,” had come from the realms of heaven, to stand at the side of the altar of incense.
Why the right side? Because it was a place of power, of privilege, and of authority.
And when Zechariah saw him, verse 12: “Fear fell on him.”
“But the angel said to him, ‘Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard, and your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you shall call his name John.”
Let’s stop there for just a moment.
You know in Bible times, names meant something. Take the name, Zechariah, for example. That name means, “The Lord remembers.” Elizabeth means, “God has promised.” And their son John means, “God has graciously given.”
Put it all together, and you get, “The Lord has remembered His promise, by graciously giving a son.”
And what promise did God remember? The one He once gave to Adam and Eve in the Garden, that someday He would send His Son.
Now if you don’t know what happens next, I don’t want to tell you. I’ll let you read it for yourself. Let’s just say things didn’t go quite as well as Gabriel planned. Turn a page to verse 18: “And Zechariah said to the angel, ‘How shall I know this? For I am an old man, and my wife is advanced in years.’ And the angel answered him, ‘I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I was sent to speak to you and to bring you this good news. And behold, you will be silent and unable to speak until the day that these things take place, because you did not believe my words, which will be fulfilled in their time.’”
It’s been said that every profession has its own bad dream or nightmare. I don’t know what the bad dream is for doctors or accountants, but I do know that for pastors, it has to do with preaching. There you are, standing in the pulpit and your sermon manuscript is gone, or the service is starting and you’re late, or you can hear the opening hymn, and you’re still in bed, because your alarm didn’t go off.
Now think of Zechariah. He’s an old man, chosen by lot, standing in the temple, the holiest place on earth. And waiting outside, on this most important day of his life, is the most important congregation he will ever address. And he can’t talk. He’s lost his voice.
As it says in verse 22: “And when he came out, he was unable to speak to them, and they realized that he had seen a vision in the temple. And he kept making signs to them and remained mute. And when his time of service was ended, he went to his home.”
So what does all this mean to teach us? I’ll leave you with two things. The first is this. You know, there really wasn’t anything special about Zechariah or Elizabeth. Sure, they were the son and the daughter of priests. But beyond that, they were as ordinary as ordinary could be--just an old couple from the hill country up north.
And we too are as ordinary as ordinary can be. Still, somehow, in the midst of our frustration, hope, and despair, God chooses to use us to do His will.
The second thing is this--it’s found in the words of the angel Gabriel: “Don’t be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard.” It’s the same words once spoken to Moses in the wilderness, to a frightened teenager in Nazareth, to startled shepherds in Bethlehem, and to grieving women at an open tomb. Don’t be afraid.
That’s the beauty of Advent. That’s the wonder of Christmas.
In her book, Operating Instructions, author Anne Lamott tells of a time when she had taken her two-year-old son to Lake Tahoe, where they stayed in a condominium by the lake. There were a lot of gambling places nearby, so all the rooms came with light-blocking blinds, so you could sleep all day and gamble all night.
She put her baby to sleep in his Pack ‘n Play in a totally darkened room, then went to work writing in the next room. A few moments later, she heard her son knocking on the door from the inside. She got up to put him back to bed, and then--every parent’s nightmare--she found that the door was locked. Somehow, he had managed to push the button on the doorknob.
He was calling, “Mommy, Mommy!” and she was saying, “Just jiggle the doorknob, honey. Try pushing the button again.” But he was two, and he couldn’t even see the doorknob in the darkened room. Then when he realized she couldn’t open the door, panic set in. She could hear him sobbing.
She did everything she could think of. She called the rental agency and the manager. She left frantic messages on answering machines. And she ran back to comfort her son in the dark, locked room.
Finally, she did the only thing she could think of. She laid down on the floor, then slid her fingers under the door. And she told him to do the same--bend over and find her fingers.
They stayed like that for what seemed like a really long time, until help finally came--him holding her fingers in the dark, knowing she was near.
Sometimes, you and I are very much like a two-year-old in the dark. Yet God is present, and, as Zechariah would someday sing, He has come “to give light to those who sit in darkness, and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.”
Go with us, dear Father, through this season of Advent. And help us to always remember that, even in our times of deep darkness and despair, You are near, for Jesus’ sake. Amen