“Bible prayers: Zechariah prays”
Luke 1:13
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus.
A little over eight years ago, back in June of 2015, author Tricia Goyer wrote a book she called Prayers That Changed History: From Christopher Columbus to Helen Keller, how God used 25 people to change the world.
The idea of the book started all the way back in 1999. That’s when, she said, whenever she came across a prayer that changed history, she filed it away. And it didn’t take long before the file grew and grew until there were way too many stories for just one book. So she had to narrow it down, settling on only twenty-five.
She wrote: “Martin Luther. Sojourner Truth. Helen Keller. St. Patrick. We read their stories, and of other people like them, in history books and hear about the amazing things they did to change the world. But one part of the story is often left out: each one of them wouldn’t have accomplished what they did without prayer.”
Take, for example, a woman named Amy Carmichael. Born in Ireland in 1867, the eldest of seven siblings, she served first as a missionary in Japan, then in Sri Lanka, and finally in India, where, for fifty-five years, she rescued hundreds of young women caught up in forced prostitution.
And so she prayed: “Dear God, make them good soldiers of Jesus Christ. Let them never turn back in the day of battle. Let them be winners and helpers of souls. Let them live not to be ministered to, but to minister. Make them loyal. Make them trustworthy. Make them wise. And we ask that we might train them to say, ‘God is my strong salvation,’ and to pour themselves out for others unhindered by self.”
Amy Carmichael’s prayer was a prayer that changed history.
Or think of another woman named Sojourner Truth. Born Isabella Baumfree in 1797, she later changed her name to Sojourner Truth, convinced that God had called her, as she said, “to leave the city and go into the countryside, testifying to the hope that was in her.” And for the rest of her life, she did everything she could to free slaves, to recruit black troops for the Union Army, and to fight on behalf of women and African Americans.
And so she prayed: “Oh, God, You know how much I am distressed, for I have told You again and again. Now, God, help me, for if You were in trouble as I am, and I could help You as You can me, do You think I wouldn’t do it? Yes, God, You know I would do it. Oh, God, You know I have no money, but You can make people do for me, and You must make people do for me. And I will never give You peace until You do.”
It’s a prayer that changed history.
In the words of Edwin Harvey, “A day without prayer is a day without blessing, and a life without prayer is a life without power.” Or as Luther wrote, “As it is the business of tailors to make clothes, and the business of cobblers to mend shoes, so it is the business of Christians to pray!”
And here in the book of Luke chapter 1 we find yet another prayer that changed history. I’ll start at 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” (Luke 1:5-7).
It was the time of the morning sacrifice. And as the massive Temple gates slowly swung open, a three-fold blast from silver trumpets awakened the holy city, Jerusalem, to the life of another day. Within the gates, priests were already busy preparing the Temple for worship, making sure that all was worthy of the presence of God.
And among those many priests tending to the details of the day was a quiet and humble man of many years. But he was different from so many of the other priests. While most came from Jerusalem or even Jericho, this man chose to live a little ways out of town, in the hill country of Judea. If he were living today, you’d probably see him driving an old, beat up Ford pick-up, and tending a little farm out in the country. He was one of the oldest priests around.
And if you were to see him as he came to the Temple that day, you would have noticed a sparkle in his eye, for a great honor and privilege had fallen on his shoulders--to offer incense in the Holy Place, a place he never thought he would go. It was a once-in-a-lifetime privilege. And once he was given that honor, it was something he would never do again.
And as he prepared himself to enter the Holy Place and burn incense that day, so many thoughts filled his mind. Would he remember his words? Would he do all that needed to be done? And would his sacrifice truly give praise to God?
In and of itself, the act was really very simple. All he had to do was to enter the Holy Place, then spread a bowlful of incense across the coals. And as the assembled congregation prayed and worshiped outside, he would pray and worship inside, then step back outside as quickly as possible. Then he would pause for a moment, lift his hands in blessing, and speak the same words his forefather, Aaron himself, had once spoken: “The Lord bless you and protect you; the Lord make His glory to shine on you and show mercy to you; the Lord look on you with kindness and favor and give you wholeness and peace.”
So on that day, as hundreds of faithful worshipers gathered outside, Zechariah quietly and humbly stepped inside, into the Holy Place, lit only by candlelight.
He was completely alone. Surrounding him was the rich cedar wood and brilliantly gleaming gold of the Holy Place. And before him, just one step away, was a thick curtain shrouding the Holy of Holies, the Most Holy Place. And beyond that was the Ark of the Covenant, the symbol of God’s presence among His people. It was truly the holiest and one of the most beautiful places on earth.
Alone he approached the altar. Alone he spread the incense. Alone he waited as it kindled on the coals. And as the smoke rose up toward heaven, the multitude outside bowed low, and Zecharaiah prayed, “Remember Lord. Remember Your people. Remember Your promise.”
But all of a sudden, as old Zecharaiah opened his eyes, he came to realize that he was not alone. With trembling fear, he looked to see a figure standing to the right of the altar. “Impossible!” he thought. “No one is to enter the Holy Place while incense is being offered.”
But clearly, this was no man.
“Don’t be afraid, Zechariah,” he said. “Your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you are to give him the name John” (Luke 1:13).
Let’s stop there for just a moment. It’s funny how we often picture angels in the movies. Think, for example, of Clarence from It’s a Wonderful Life. Think of Michael Landon in Highway to Heaven. Think of Roma Downey and Della Reese in Touched by an Angel. Or think of cherubs, baby angels, in paintings or on Hallmark cards. Those are nice angels. Those are friendly angels. Those are angels who would never have to say, “Don’t be afraid.”
Now let me tell you--Gabriel, the angel who showed up to talk to Zechariah in the Temple was no Michael Landon/Roma Downey kind of angel. He was a “fear not” kind of angel.
And poor Zechariah was so afraid, his heart nearly stopped. But as he collected his thoughts, he somehow managed to say, “Son?! John?! How can this be? I’m too old, and so is my wife, Elizabeth!” (Luke 1:18). In other words, “With all due respect, Gabriel, that train has left the station and that ship has already sailed. Now if you would have been here maybe twenty to thirty years ago. But today, there’s just no possible way.”
Still the angel answered, “I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God and I have been sent to tell you this good news” (Luke 1:19).
“Your prayer has been heard,” he said. But which prayer?
Gabriel’s answer made it clear: “You will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth…for he will make ready a people prepared for the Lord” (Luke 1:14, 17).
And just as quickly as it had begun, so it was done. Again, Zechariah found himself alone in that dimly lit place. And as he stepped back out into the light of the Temple courts, he saw the faces of the concerned worshipers, wondering why he had taken so long in the Temple. And as they waited silently for his final words of blessing, they knew, by his signs and his astonished agitation, that from that moment on, life would never be the same.
As you’ll probably remember, three years ago, back in November of 202, Alex Trebek, the host of Jeopardy died after a two-year battle with pancreatic cancer.
He had a long and talented career. At first, he worked as a bellhop at a hotel where his father served as a chef. Then he went on to work for the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation, to read the news and to cover special sporting events.
But in the early 70s, when he moved to the United States, that’s when his life changed. After serving as host for a number of game shows like The Wizard of Odds, Double Dare, and The $128,000 Question, he finally landed one called Jeopardy. He would serve as its host for the next thirty-six years.
But in March of 2019, after having one health setback after another, he announced that he had been diagnosed with stage IV pancreatic cancer.
At first, his treatment seemed promising. The tumors shrank to half of their size.
But when chemo wasn’t working so well anymore, he said, “I’ve lived a good life, a full life, and I’m nearing the end of that life. I’m not afraid of dying.”
Finally, after publishing his memoir entitled The Answer Is…Reflections on My Life, at the age of eighty, he lost his battle with cancer.
But do you know what he did on the day before he died? He spent his day doing exactly what he wanted to do--sitting on a swing, next to his wife, and watching the horizon.
The season of Advent, though it lasts only four weeks, reminds us that there’s something on the horizon, the likes of which we’ve never seen before--like an old man named Zechariah and his wife, Elizabeth, bearing a child. Angels will sing to shepherds. Shepherds will find a Babe wrapped in swaddling clothes. And wise men will follow a star shining in the night sky.
Jesus is coming. And when He comes, life will never be the same.
As pastor and poet Phillips Brooks once wrote so long ago: “How silently, how silently, the wondrous Gift is giv’n! So God imparts to human hearts the blessings of His heav’n. No ear may hear His coming, but in this world of sin, where meek souls will receive Him still, the dear Christ enters in.”
We thank You, heavenly Father, for the good news Your angel Gabriel was once so privileged to bring. Be with us and help us to remember that, even in our times of deep darkness and despair, You are near, for Jesus’ sake. Amen