Over the next few days leading up to Christmas, I’m going to release the Christmas portion of my book, Encounters With Jesus, to give you the flavor of the book. It would be a great way to start the year off. Forty days getting to know Jesus with a fresh pair of eyes.

Enjoy…

 

He will herald God’s arrival in the style and strength of Elijah,
soften the hearts of parents to children,
and kindle devout understanding among
hardened skeptics—he’ll get the people ready for God.
Luke 1:17

The Prayer I No Longer Pray

Zachariah

We always wanted to have children. My dear Elizabeth and I both came from large families. We understood the blessings of many siblings. We could both trace our roots back to the house of Aaron in the tribe of Levi. I had been a priest for forty years. Any son of mine would follow in fifteen-hundred-year-old footsteps to serve in the temple.

When my father first told me I would marry Liza, I was a bit disappointed. She was much younger than me. But during our betrothal year, we got to know one another, and I saw that it was a good match. Even then, in those early days, our love grew.

We both loved the Almighty One and felt the honor of serving in the temple. Of course, our service took different forms. I helped prepare the temple for the holy days. I arranged for the wood and oil needed and coordinated the supplies with the vendors who sold to the temple.

She served with the administration and distribution of food and alms for the poor. It seems the poor always found their way to this holy city.

We hoped to start our family on our wedding night, but it was not to be. At first we thought nothing of it, but after two years of wanting children and having none, my Liza began to wonder. Was the Almighty punishing us? Why would our heavenly Father withhold this greatest of all blessings from His own children?

We prayed and made many special offerings. Many days we fasted and cried out to the Lord for His mercy.

Without a firstborn to offer up to the Lord, we felt as though we could never please Him.

Liza and I agreed to fast one day every week until God heard our prayer and gave us a child. But as the weeks turned to years and the years wore on, still the heavens were silent. The doctors could find nothing wrong, and we began to fear the worst.

When the doctor said the word barren, it was as though something snapped inside my wife.

I don’t think she was ever truly happy after that. She wasn’t moping about or crying all the time, but the light I’d seen in young Liza’s eyes on our wedding day—the light of hope, of expectation—that part of Liza died with the speaking of that word.

Finally, we stopped praying, stopped asking, stopped hoping for a child. We continued to serve God the best we could; we just knew we would never have the joy of raising a child. Our family would stop with me. Our brothers and sisters were growing families, and we were just growing old.

That year, I drew the lot to work in the holy place offering incense. It was a huge honor that many priests never know. The incense we offered represented the prayers of His people rising before His throne. Though Liza and I had stopped hoping for a child, stopped seeking the Lord for the miracle of birth in our family, I was still thrilled at the prospect of serving this way.

The day arrived and I put on my linen garments. They tied the cord around my ankle so they could retrieve my body if I offended the Holy One. I made my way through the immense curtain into the Holy of Holies, incense in hand. As I entered, I sensed something different. The difference was not in the temple furniture or adornment. It was not in the smell of the incense. It was in me.

Was it hope rising up in me? That didn’t make any sense. Not only was Liza barren, she was past the time of women. She had been that way for years now. But why should I hope? As I neared the altar of incense, my hopefulness grew stronger.

Suddenly, as I prepared to offer the incense, an angel appeared just to the right of the altar. I dropped the bowl I carried, and an explosion of fragrance diffused the glow that came from this being. As I started to fall to my knees, shaking from the inside out, the angel stopped me.

“Don’t fear, Zachariah. Your prayer has been heard. Elizabeth, your wife, will bear a son by you. You are to name him John. You’re going to leap like a gazelle for joy, and not only you—many will delight in his birth. He’ll achieve great stature with God.

“He’ll drink neither wine nor beer. He’ll be filled with the Holy Spirit from the moment he leaves his mother’s womb. He will turn many sons and daughters of Israel back to their God. He will herald God’s arrival in the style and strength of Elijah, soften the hearts of parents to children, and kindle devout understanding among hardened skeptics—he’ll get the people ready for God.” 

I could not believe my ears! The Father had heard the prayer I’d stopped praying. How could this be? I said to the angel, “Do you expect me to believe this? I’m an old man, and my wife is an old woman.”

Though he told me not to be afraid, the look on his face made my knees tremble.

He said, “I am Gabriel, the sentinel of God, sent especially to bring you this glad news. But because you won’t believe me, you’ll be unable to say a word until the day of your son’s birth. Every word I’ve spoken to you will come true on time—God’s time.”

I started to object, to recant, but I couldn’t speak. My mouth worked just fine, but no sound came out.

It was then that I felt a tugging on the cord around my ankle. Those in the outer court were beginning to worry, since I’d been in there far longer than expected. I looked down at my ankle, and the light in the room dimmed. Gabriel was gone just as suddenly as he’d come.

When I finally emerged, everyone crowded around me. They had heard the voices and knew something happened. I made gestures, and they saw that I couldn’t speak.

Once I finished my temple duties, I headed back home. At first Liza did not want to hope, but it was not too long after I returned home that she began to sense the change in her body.

When she began to show, we moved out of the city to a family home further from the crowds and neighbors. There we lived in wonder and amazement at how the Lord was answering our prayer—in His time and for His purposes. We were, for the most part, alone for the first five months. Then Elizabeth’s young cousin, Mary, came to visit with the news that she was also with child.

Before she got the news out of her mouth, our little one leapt inside Elizabeth’s womb. Mary told us of her encounter with Gabriel, and we all wondered at the mighty hand of the Lord on us.

As the day of Liza’s delivery approached, Mary headed back to her home in Nazareth to be with her betrothed, Joseph. Liza and I awaited John’s arrival.

What excitement surrounded his birth! All our friends and family showered us with love and blessings. On the eighth day, we took him to the rabbi for circumcision. The rabbi was about to announce him as Zachariah, as custom dictates.

Liza protested. “His name must be John!”

After some dispute, I gestured for a tablet, as I was still unable to speak of the matter. I wrote, his name is John.

At that instant, the Lord restored my voice. What could I do but praise the Holy One? What a day we lived in! What would become of this boy, and what of this baby Mary carried?

As I praised the Lord, His Spirit rose up within me and gave me these words:

“Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel; He came and set his people free. He set the power of salvation in the center of our lives, and in the very house of David His servant, Just as He promised long ago through the preaching of His holy prophets: Deliverance from our enemies and every hateful hand; Mercy to our fathers, as He remembers to do what He said He’d do, What He swore to our father Abraham— a clean rescue from the enemy camp, So we can worship Him without a care in the world, made holy before Him as long as we live.

“And you, my child, ‘Prophet of the Highest,’ will go ahead of the Master to prepare His ways, Present the offer of salvation to His people, the forgiveness of their sins. Through the heartfelt mercies of our God, God’s Sunrise will break in upon us, Shining on those in the darkness, those sitting in the shadow of death, Then showing us the way, one foot at a time, down the path of peace.” 

What amazing times are upon us!

~~~

To read the original story, see Luke 1:5-25, 57-80.

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Thanks for coming by today

Merry Christmas

Ben