Nine Months of Silence

A crowd waits in the temple courts. The priest inside is taking far too long. People glance at each other. Then the door opens, and he stumbles out, waving his hands, opening his mouth. But no words come.

Zechariah is an old priest, serving his week in the temple in Jerusalem. Today, the lot fell to him to burn incense in the holy place, the honour of a lifetime. And there, beside the golden altar, an angel appeared. The angel told him that his prayer had been heard, that his wife Elizabeth, old and childless, would have a son named John, and that this boy would prepare the people for the Lord. It was the most wonderful news Zechariah had ever heard. And he did not quite believe it.

Zechariah asks, “Whereby shall I know this? for I am an old man, and my wife well stricken in years.” How can I be sure? It sounds like a reasonable question. But Zechariah was a priest who knew the stories of Abraham and Sarah, of Hannah, of Manoah's wife. He was standing in God's house, talking to an angel. And still he asks for proof. The angel answers. 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. Then he gives Zechariah a sign, though not the kind he wanted. Because you did not believe my words, you will be silent and unable to speak until the day these things happen. And my words will come true at their proper time.

Outside, the people are waiting for Zechariah, wondering why he is taking so long in the sanctuary. The priest was supposed to come out and bless them. When at last he appears, he cannot speak to them. They realise he has seen a vision in the temple. He keeps making signs to them, and stays unable to speak. Imagine finishing his week of service like that. Every day, unable to explain. Then, when his days of service are over, Zechariah goes home to the hill country. And soon after, just as Gabriel said, Elizabeth conceives.

For five months, Elizabeth keeps herself hidden at home. Luke does not tell us exactly why. Perhaps she wanted quiet time with God. Perhaps she wanted to be sure before anyone could doubt her or pity her again. And she says something that holds years of pain inside it. “Thus hath the Lord dealt with me in the days wherein he looked on me, to take away my reproach among men.” For decades, Elizabeth had carried the shame people often heaped on women who had no children, as if it meant God was displeased with her. Now God had looked on her. The sorrow was over. And all the while, her husband could only listen, and wait, and watch the promise grow.

Luke uses a Greek word for Zechariah's condition that can mean either mute or deaf, or both. Later, when the baby is born, his neighbours make signs to Zechariah to ask what the child should be called. That detail has led many readers to think that he could not hear, as well as not speak. Either way, for about nine months, the old priest lived in silence, with his questions answered only by the slow, sure growing of a child.

You'll find this story in Luke chapter one, verses eighteen to twenty-five. Zechariah's doubt did not cancel God's promise; it only gave him time to watch it come true. And when his voice returned, the first thing he would do was praise God. So here is a question to carry with you. When God's promises seem too good to be true, what helps you trust him anyway?