The Song of Zechariah - Luke 1:68-79
I’ve heard it said by grumps and curmudgeons that people only break into joyful song in musicals. Those same grumps and curmudgeons tend to avoid musicals for just that reason. I’m willing to allow that musical film and theater may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but I firmly disagree with those who deny the presence of song in our everyday lives.
Surely some of you have climbed into a vehicle on a road trip humming “On the Road Again” to yourselves. Or perhaps you’ve walked out onto your porch after a storm singing “I can see clearly now, the rain is gone” under your breath. If nothing else, I bet you’ve seen a children’s sports team gleefully singing “We are the Champions” after a big win. It is, I believe, in our nature as God’s creatures to “sing to the Lord a new song, for he has done marvelous things.”
Today we encounter a friend in holy Scripture with a small but mighty part to play in salvation history. Zechariah has been rendered unable to speak for some time. When the angel Gabriel announced that Zechariah and his wife, Elizabeth, would welcome a son in their old age, Zechariah expressed doubt and disbelief, asking for a sign or proof. In consequence, he promptly lost his voice.
Months later and eight days after the child is born, his parents take him to the Temple to be circumcised, as is their custom. Zechariah writes the child’s name, John, in fulfillment of the angel’s prophecy, and his voice is restored to him. In thanksgiving for the birth of his son, the return of his voice, and most importantly, for the faithfulness of God, Zechariah breaks into joyful song.
In his voice is a familiar sound, an ancient song that would have been known to those gathered and listening. We sang this song just moments ago, as it has become for us a canticle for worship, known as the Benedictus. We call it the Benedictus because this is the first word of the song in Latin. It means blessed. “Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel; he has come to his people and set them free.”
The word blessed is ubiquitous in our culture and can mean almost anything. This time of year, we most often hear it used in holiday well wishes. When someone tells us to “have a blessed day” or “have a blessed Thanksgiving,” we know that their hope for us is that we are safe and happy and have everything we could want on this special occasion. But is this what Zechariah means? When he cries out, with his first words in months, “blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel,” is he simply sending holiday best wishes to God? How unfitting. How inadequate. How small that sentiment would be. Something else is going on here.
Since Zechariah is singing an ancient song found in the Hebrew Scriptures, perhaps we should look at how these same scriptures use the word “blessed.” I won’t bore you with the details, but what we learn is that when God blesses people, God gives them a charge, a purpose. God sets them apart for particular use, and promises to be with them always. When we think of the people in the Old Testament who were blessed by God, they are not always safe or happy or have everything they could want. Abraham, David, Ruth — they all suffered greatly, but they also fulfilled God’s purpose for their lives.
Now when people bless God in the Hebrew Scriptures, they are affirming their charge, their purpose. They are committing to that for which God has set them apart and praising God for God’s faithful presence through it all. This feels right. This is what Zechariah seeks to convey when his son is born and his voice is returned. He understands now what God has in store for his family, he is eager to live into his calling, and he is full of gratitude for God’s faithfulness and might.
I must warn you, this new understanding of what it means to bless and be blessed may have great consequences for our own lives. On Christ the King Sunday, we are put in mind of kings and rulers, leaders of any kind whom we look up to, emulate, even obey. If we were to examine all these so-called kings in our lives, people we typically think of as blessed, would we find that they fit into this new model? Are the people in our lives who have power, including ourselves, living into the charge God has given them and blessing God in return? Or are they counting their treasure, exploiting the weak, absorbing all the holiday best wishes without a thought about what those blessings mean? Our lectionary invites us to consider that true kingly power does not contain riches and privilege but a purpose, that true kingly power is set apart by God for particular use — namely, to save the world.
Our lectionary also invites us to change how we approach Advent, which starts next week, as well as the coming (and already here) commercial holiday season. Perhaps to have a blessed holiday does not simply mean having all of our loved ones under one roof for a meal and getting everything we want for Christmas. Perhaps to be blessed this season means to be set apart for something holy as we await the Incarnation of Jesus Christ.
Just as Christ’s purpose is to bring each of us nearer to God, so our purpose mimics that of our savior. As we begin the Advent season in the coming days, I invite each of us to consider the many ways that we are blessed. What might you be set apart for? How might you affirm that call and give praise to God for it? Are you called to give generously to the most vulnerable in our community? Are you called to a deeper time of prayer and contemplation? Are you called to simply make it through the holidays this year?
If nothing else, could our holiday blessings entice us to break out in song, seemingly apropos of nothing, as if we were in a musical? What new song might we sing to the Lord in thanksgiving for the marvelous works God has done? But if you are a grump or a curmudgeon and don’t care to express yourself in song, that’s okay. You, too, are blessed. After all, Zechariah found his voice and song and blessing in his old age after a period of doubt. So it will be for all of us. For as Zechariah proclaimed, “in the tender compassion of our God the dawn from on high shall break upon us, to shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death, and to guide our feet into the way of peace.” Amen.