It is hard to fault Zacharias for his disbelief. The news was almost too much to take in. Not only would his barren, elderly wife conceive a son, but what a son! In typical Old Testament fashion, he asked for a miraculous sign to confirm the authenticity of the messenger and his message (Gen. 15:8;
Judg. 6:36-40; 2 Kgs. 20:8; Isa. 7:11). The angel, however, didn’t appreciate this seasoned priest’s lack of trust. Zacharias, of all people, should have trusted the word of God, and he should have believed in the power of God to fulfill His promises (Gen. 21:1). His individual reaction to the good news and his personal failure to believe God’s word mirrors the failure of Israel to bring the word of God to the nations.
This particular angel—one of only two named in Scripture—identified himself as Gabriel, which means “God’s valiant one.” We might paraphrase his name “Hero from God.” (See also Luke 1:26 and Dan. 9:21.)
Zacharias’ doubting objection, “I am old!” (Luke 1:18) is mirrored by Gabriel’s retort: “I am Gabriel!” He said, in effect, “I am all the proof you need. I have seen God face-to-face; I come directly from His throne room with this message. You undoubtedly remember my name from Scripture, so you know I’ve been doing this work for a long, long time.”
The chastisement given to Zacharias is both ironic and symbolic. His disbelief rendered him mute, unable to share the wonderful news he had received from God in His sanctuary. Zacharias—a priest, a divinely ordained intermediary between God and His people—failed to believe God’s message, and his lack of trust stole his voice. His nine-month silence reflected the four-hundred-year hush that preceded the fulfillment of God’s promises.
In my book, A Bethlehem Christmas, I imagined what Zacharias might have experienced in the temple. He knew it was a special day in the life of a priest, but he had no idea just how special it would be for him!
The Holy Place, with all its gravity and mystery, grabbed Zacharias by the senses and held him captive for what seemed an eternity. He tilted his head back and breathed in the mingled aroma of bread, incense, cedar, and the burnt flesh of sinners’ substitutes. Ministering in the Holy Place was a rare opportunity in the life of an ordinary priest, so he consumed every detail with his eyes, fully intending to return there in his mind for years to come.
It was darker than he imagined. Cedar-paneled walls disappeared into the darkness nearly a hundred feet overhead before meeting a ceiling he could barely make out. Finely crafted furniture adorned God’s enormous antechamber, and the gold implements appeared to be as holy as their purpose.
Seven lights of a large golden lampstand flickered on his left. On the right stood a table with twelve loaves of
unleavened bread, neatly arranged in two rows of six. A few steps ahead, the altar of incense. A flat, square surface
standing three feet high, and overlaid with pure gold. And within arm’s length of the altar, a thick linen veil separated him from the potentially lethal presence of the Almighty.
This was the place where men met God.
His task wasn’t complicated. Twice each day, a priest slipped behind the outer veil with a censer of coals from the altar in one hand and a measure of incense in the other. It should take only a few moments, but Zacharias wasn’t about to rush anything.
He stepped forward, poured the coals onto the altar and then covered them with a finely ground powder of spices and frankincense. A few moments later, he could barely see the blue, purple, and scarlet cherubim woven into the veil that hung between him and the Most Holy Place. As the smoky perfume rose to the nostrils of God, a faint breeze brushed the back of the old priest’s neck, and for a moment, he felt certain he wasn’t alone.[15]
— 1:21-23 —
While Zacharias dialogued with God’s messenger, receiving wonderful news about the coming of the long-awaited Messiah, the people waited and prayed outside the sanctuary. According to the Mishnah (a second-century
AD document recording Jewish traditions), the priests performing the day’s duties were to stand on the porch before the people and pronounce a
blessing.[16] Unfortunately, Zacharias bore the telltale signs of a man who either had received a divine vision or had profaned the Lord’s temple.
Clearly he had encountered God, but his inability to speak (or hear [1:62]) could have been interpreted in one of two ways. Both Ezekiel and Daniel temporarily lost the ability to speak after receiving visions from God (Ezek.
3:26; Dan. 10:7-8, 15). Contemporary theology also held, however, that physical ailments were God’s punishment for sin. Was Zacharias’s condition proof of God’s abandonment or evidence of His activity?
The form of the Greek verb dianeuō [1269] (the imperfect
periphrastic[17]) tells us that, throughout his week of service, Zacharias
“kept making signs” (Luke 1:22) as a means of communication, and we also learn that he “was remaining mute” (literal translation). At the end of his appointed time at the temple, the priest returned to his home in the hill country of Judea (1:23, 39-40).
In a small measure, I can identify with Zacharias. The greatest thrill of my life is to proclaim God’s message. It is perhaps the greatest joy of my entire existence. To be silenced from that would be the worst of judgments
—to be a priest without a message . . . a prophet without a voice.
Imagine the sad frustration Zacharias endured, unable to verbally tell everyone, “My friends, my fellow members of the beloved, patient people of Israel: The words of our prophets are coming to pass. My wife, as barren as Israel these four-hundred years, will conceive and bear the forerunner of the Christ!”
But he could say nothing. He remained powerless to strengthen their faith or to help them endure the dark days of Herod the Great or to herald the day when “the sun of righteousness” would come “with healing in [His]
wings” (Mal. 4:2). For no less than nine months and eight days—perhaps longer—he gestured and scribbled notes. His God-imposed silence taught him what years in the priesthood did not: When God speaks, your only responsibility is to trust His word.
— 1:24-25 —
“After these days,” Zacharias and Elizabeth conceived. Luke doesn’t tell us how long after the priest’s return this occurred. Quite likely not long, if Zacharias truly believed what had been told him.
We also don’t know for certain why Elizabeth “kept herself in seclusion for five months” after she became pregnant. One clue is that most women begin to show the unmistakable signs of pregnancy around five months.
Perhaps Elizabeth wanted to enjoy the first months of her pregnancy away from the killjoy nay-saying of doubters.
Take note of her response (1:25) in contrast to that of her husband.
Whereas Zacharias asked, “How shall I know for certain?” Elizabeth responded, in summary, “The Lord has dealt with me in grace” (cf. Gen.
30:23).