Stepping into Silence

Monday, November 30th, 2020

Luke 1:62-64

Then they made signs to his father, to find out what he would like to name the child. He asked for a writing tablet, and to everyone’s astonishment he wrote, “His name is John.” Immediately his mouth was opened and his tongue set free, and he began to speak, praising God.

I used to think that this time Zechariah was mute was a great inconvenience. I’m sure it really was in many ways. He didn’t know how long this season of silence would last. I’m sure he felt much despair as the weeks passed into months, when it felt like maybe he would be mute forever. 

We all have gone through or are going through hard and dark seasons and we wonder how long this doubt, pain, grief, or uncertainty will last. Most of us are in this kind of season right now.

I wonder if the first few weeks for Zechariah’s family and co-workers were eggshells because of his frustration from being mute. But I wonder if he settled into the silence a bit. Something incredible can happene when we don’t talk. Something divine can take place in the silence. When we can’t respond or defend or argue or make our case—when we have to sit in the silence there’s a lot of time to listen. I wonder if Zechariah listened. Perhaps he looked through the scrolls and read the prophets from a perspective of learner and listener and wonder. I wonder if he began to understand a different nature of God who would use someone ordinary like Zechariah for something so extraordinary. 

Zechariah stayed in the state of silence for over 10 months. Even after his son was born, he still couldn’t talk. It wasn’t until his wife Elizabeth, the mouthpiece for their family, took John to get circumcised and she named him John. Everyone discounted her voice and said she was wrong to name him a name that wasn’t in the family. They told her off. So Zechariah grabbed a writing tablet and wrote “his name is John.”

And then his mouth was open and he could finally speak!

Friends, he didn’t talk about how hard it was to stay silent. He didn’t grumble or complain about why God took his voice from him. He didn’t speak frustration in his friend’s distrust with his wife. He didn’t even say, “Finally! Dang that was long!” 

After months without saying a word, he began to praise God. 

For the people of Israel, God had been silent and distant for 400 years, since the time of Malachai. They really had been living in a long, dark season. A season where they felt forgotten by God. A season many of us are familiar with. They felt weighed down by wondering if God was even there or if God even cared. 

God was doing the work of preparing room to come near through a mute priest, an elderly mother, and a man unwilling to wallow in his voicelessness. 

And when Zechariah spoke, when he finally received his voice he didn’t point to his child or create some sort of birth announcement or gender reveal party. He told the truth and announced God’s faithfulness. That God hadn’t forgotten. He spoke the beautiful truth that those feeling dried out and in dark places and weary seasons could rest assured that a light was arriving. That a light would emerge. That a light of hope would rise out of the most hopeless of places and this would be good news for all people. That God was coming near.

God has always been looking for partners to do good work with. And we see in this story that God partners with parents and desires great things for our children and grandchildren—for the next generation. I wonder if Zechariah needed that season of silence to know how to raise his son into a loving man of God promised to him. Maybe the difficulty and hardship of silence was for the shaping of Zechariah to be the shaper of John? We are shaped and formed by God to shape and form the next generation. 

How will we raise and disciple this next generation of children in ways that shape them into loving people of God? 

Sometimes it takes a period of listening as you prepare room for God to come near. 

With (love),

Bethany