Sermon Transcript: December 7, 2025
We continue with our Advent sermon series on the Voices of Advent, using the book by the same name by Matthew Skinner.
I am going a little rogue this morning. The voice that we are listening to is that of Zechariah. And in Dr. Skinner’s book, he talks primarily about the song that Zechariah sings. But I’m choosing today instead to focus on what came before the song, because I think that that is instructive for us in this Advent season. So we will be reading a portion of Zechariah’s story from the Gospel according to Luke.
And one of the things that I want us to pay attention to, to notice, is the way that the Bible comments on itself.
In this story of Zechariah and his wife, we are going to hear echoes of another familiar story from Genesis. So I’ll just leave that with you so that you listen carefully for that reference.
Let us listen for God’s Word to us today from:
Luke 1:5-23
In the days of King Herod of Judea, there was a priest named Zechariah, who belonged to the priestly order of Abijah. His wife was descended from the daughters of Aaron, and her name was Elizabeth. Both of them were righteous before God, living blamelessly according to all the commandments and regulations of the Lord. But they had no children because Elizabeth was barren, and both were getting on in years.
Once when he was serving as priest before God during his section’s turn of duty, he was chosen by lot, according to the custom of the priesthood, to enter the sanctuary of the Lord to offer incense. Now at the time of the incense offering, the whole assembly of the people was praying outside. Then there appeared to him an angel of the Lord, standing at the right side of the altar of incense. When Zechariah saw him, he was terrified, and fear overwhelmed him. But the angel said to him, “Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you will name him John. You will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth, for he will be great in the sight of the Lord. He must never drink wine or strong drink; even before his birth he will be filled with the Holy Spirit. He will turn many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God. With the spirit and power of Elijah he will go before him, to turn the hearts of parents to their children and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous, to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.” Zechariah said to the angel, “How can I know that this will happen? For I am an old man, and my wife is getting on in years.” The angel replied, “I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I have been sent to speak to you and to bring you this good news. But now, because you did not believe my words, which will be fulfilled in their time, you will become mute, unable to speak, until the day these things occur.”
Meanwhile the people were waiting for Zechariah and wondering at his delay in the sanctuary. When he did come out, he was unable to speak to them, and they realized that he had seen a vision in the sanctuary. He kept motioning to them and remained unable to speak. When his time of service was ended, he returned to his home.
For the Word of God in scripture,
For the Word of God among us,
For the Word of God within us,
Thanks be to God.
***
“When I decided to speak, I had a lot to say and in which to say what I had to say.”
These are the words of Maya Angelou in her memoir, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. For five whole years as a child, Maya didn’t speak a word. It all started when she was seven. Her mother’s boyfriend—he was arrested, but they released him after only four days. And shortly thereafter, he turned up dead. It was believed that Maya’s uncles were responsible.
“I thought I had caused the man’s death,” she writes, “because I had spoken his name. That was my seven-and-a-half-year-old logic. So I stopped talking for five years.”
Later she writes, “Now, to show you how out of evil there can come good—in those five years I read every book in the Black school library. Out of this evil, which is a dire kind of evil in my case, I was saved by my muteness. I was able to draw from human thought, human disappointments, enough to triumph myself.”
Now, unlike Angelou’s muteness, Zechariah’s inability to speak is not voluntary.
Having been told by an angel that his wife Elizabeth will have a son who is great in the sight of the Lord, Zechariah finds it hard to believe. His doubts have less to do with the abilities of the Almighty and more to do with the fact that, like Abraham and Sarah before them, they’re just past that point in their life.
The angel doesn’t seem to take kindly to Zechariah’s questioning and so strikes him mute until the child is born.
Now as I mentioned, in his book Voices of Advent, Skinner identifies Zechariah as one of the biblical voices of Advent—not for his muteness, but for the song that he sings upon his son’s birth. A song which heralds a Savior—not his son John, but Mary’s child, Jesus.
Skinner writes: “Zechariah shows his awareness of the larger story that is moving forward here. It’s a story about a God who keeps showing up to redeem and deliver.”
It’s fair to wonder whether Zechariah being struck mute is punishment—or something else.
One of my seminary professors, Robert Dykstra, gestures toward some possibilities when he writes:
“Maybe Zechariah’s silence was not so much an imposition of God’s judgment, but of God’s severe mercy. A poignant pause in the cynicism and tragedy and traumas of this world, in which gestates our prayer of wonder and thanksgiving and gratitude in the miracle of new birth.
A son named John.
A son named Jesus.
A redemption, and refreshment, and restoration of hope and life.
A severe mercy.
A healing silence.”
But of course, not all silences are healing.
Psychologist Michelle Leno writes, “In our fast-paced, hyper-connected world, silence can feel unnatural. Whether we’re scrolling through social media or engaged in a conversation, we’re used to constant stimulation. Quiet moments interrupt the rhythm, leaving us face to face with our thoughts—and sometimes, that’s the last place we want to be.”
It’s true, though. Some silences can be quite disturbing.
The silence of the home after a loved one dies, for example. Or that of an empty home after a divorce, or a child goes off to college.
In fact, many of us prefer white noise to drown out the silence—because of all the silence might say to us.
In her book When God Is Silent, Barbara Brown Taylor writes:
“Many words—silence affects people who are no longer affected by sound. Plenty of us who are defended against sound have no defense against silence.”
But Zechariah’s silence isn’t just a personal crisis. Lest we forget, Zechariah is a priest. It is literally his job to speak for God.
His silence could lead to a crisis of faith in the community. Is God angry at the people? Why is God giving them the silent treatment? What might the silence be saying?
French philosopher Max Picard says that “silence is the central place of faith—where we give the word back to the God from whom we first received it. Surrendering the word, we surrender the medium of our creation. We unsay ourselves, voluntarily returning to the source of our being, where we must trust God to say us once again.”
And so it just may be that of all the voices that we hear during Advent, silence says the most.
It lays us utterly bare before God and one another. It reveals our fears and insecurities and sends us inward to reflect and repair.
Michelle Leno writes: “While silence may be uncomfortable, it doesn’t have to be negative. In fact, those quiet pauses can offer valuable opportunities—if we’re willing to embrace them.”
When Zechariah finally spoke again, he had many things to say and many ways in which to say them.
In his first words, a song of peace and blessing, proclaiming God’s love for the whole world.
Friends, as we sit at this table today, let us embrace the opportunity to quiet our hearts and minds so that we may hear what God is saying to us.
The song that is welling up inside of each and every one of us.
The song of a Savior’s love.
A song about a God who keeps showing up to redeem and deliver.
A song of a world made new.
Amen.
