Silence

Do you like silence? The older I get the more I seem to enjoy it. I drive without the radio on a lot anymore, which is a big change, because I used to listen to the radio all the time. The silence in a car provides a great time to pray. I leave my eyes open, just in case you were wondering.

I enjoy silence – most silence but not all. I don’t enjoy the silence of relationships gone bad, and I don’t enjoy the silence of (seemingly) unanswered prayers. That kind of silence leads to lots of sighs. I think Zachariah and Elizabeth could relate to this one. You can read their story in Luke 1. Go ahead if you want. I’ll wait here.

Something else isn’t it? You may not realize the backdrop for this story is 400 years of God’s silence. His people are waiting, anticipating a day when a Messiah will come and restore them to a position of freedom and prominence. They’ve been waiting and waiting and waiting. Generation after generation, anticipating and anticipating and waiting some more.

That’s been the story of Zachariah and Elizabeth as well. When they got married, everyone said they were the perfect couple. They both came from good church families and their immediate families were both involved in the priesthood. It was a match seemingly made in Heaven. They got married, and like most everyone else, they hoped to share the love they enjoyed by bringing new life into the world. They prayed to have a baby.

They prayed and prayed and prayed. Each month they waited and waited and waited. They anticipated that God would answer their prayers. They sighed at God's silence. The fervency of their prayers died down as the months changed into years and into a decade and beyond. One day they stopped praying for a baby. Life changes. They finally admitted what they had known for a long time. Elizabeth was barren, and God was not going to answer their prayer. Silence. The silence of unanswered prayer. A silence stretched out over a lifetime of possible conception, echoing 400 years of God’s silence. Silence with lots of tearful sighs.

Then one day Zechariah is serving in the Temple, doing literally a once in a lifetime task: offering incense in The Holy Place. The angel Gabriel shows up and nearly scares Zechariah to death. Gabriel calms him down and tells him that his prayers have been answered. "You’re going to be a dad!" Gabriel goes on to explain the special nature of this child and what he will do. Turns out he’ll turn out to be John the Baptist.

Zechariah takes it all in but is not so sure it’s really true. "How can I be sure of this? I am an old man and my wife is well along in years."  A very good question and an excellent point, in my opinion. Gabriel doesn’t like the answer and strikes poor old Zechariah with silence. There it is again! Silence. Turns out it will be nine plus months of silence. Nine plus months of "be quiet and watch this." Nine plus months of "be still and know that I am God." Nine plus months of "be still and trust me."

I wonder what Zechariah did during all the time Elizabeth carried John the Baptist in her old womb? I think he was deaf also, so there wasn't much communication with anyone, maybe except God. He had nine months to think, to pray, to adjust, to wait, and to trust. Once the baby was born, Zechariah took the opportunity to show that he learned the lesson. "His name is John," Zechariah announces to the stunned crowd. Then old Zechariah, with his rusty vocal cords,  sings an amazing song about his son.

Let’s go back to silence in this story for a moment; it's all through it. Is God trying to tell us something? Do we hear echoes of "Be still and know?" We should, if we don’t.

The silence of God, as it often does, led to disappointment for Zachariah and Elizabeth and even disgrace for Elizabeth, but even in the silence, even in the disappointment, they kept trusting and obeying and didn’t grow bitter. They trusted God with the unanswered questions. They trusted him with the silence. They trusted him.

I'm working on doing the same.