Podcast Advent 2 Peace

We first notice that this is one of the longest chapters in the Bible, 80 verses!^[1] We are introduced to the characters of Zechariah, Gabriel, Elizabeth, and Mary. And we get the first reports on what John (the Baptist) and Jesus will be like.

Zechariah is an old, law abiding, rule-keeping priest. Elizabeth, Zechariah’s wife, remains childless into her old age. She likewise is law abiding and rule-keeping. Mary is unmarried, but engaged, also a virgin. Luke 1 gives us a snapshot of each character’s personality at that time.

Zechariah is weighed down by doubts. All those lovely religious promises he has trusted through the years are starting to feel like a scam. He is too jaded to trust yet another divine promise. After all, Herod is king—hardly the picture of wisdom and justice the ancient songs and stories had foreshadowed. And so when the angel comes with good news, Zechariah has trouble taking any of it seriously.

Elizabeth seems more prepared to take whatever comes her way—bad or good. When she becomes unexpectedly pregnant, she stays in seclusion for 5 months. She knows that she must protect her sanity from the watchful eyes and wagging tongues of others. When Mary (also with child) visits Elizabeth for the first time, the baby inside Elizabeth’s womb leaps for joy. Elizabeth is the first person to acknowledge the importance of both Mary and Jesus.

Mary’s curiosity supersedes her fear. When the angel appears with astonishing news of her pregnancy, Mary rolls things around in her mind—looking at matters first from one perspective, then another. We are not sure if she is a woman of great faith, or simply a naïve risk-taker. Maybe some of each. Her response is, “Sure! Whatever God wants. Count me in.”

Gabriel, the mysterious messenger (angel), appearing to both Zechariah and Mary, was last seen in the Old Testament book of Daniel. We don’t know much about him—which has left him all the more appealing to speculators and gossips through the centuries.

The two great gems in Luke 1, a speech by Mary and a speech by Zechariah, have made their way into Christian liturgies and worship services. They even have their own Latin names: Mary’s Magnificat and Zechariah’s Benedictus. The Magnificat is a poem of exuberant joy celebrating what it feels like to be given a part in God’s intervention in a world of injustice—offering eternal alternatives of mercy and justice. The Benedictus is a prequel to the Magnificat. It describes an era of enemies, darkness, and death. Then it recalls the promises God made to his people during the gloomy years—promises of salvation, light, and peace. The poem identifies Jesus as the one who will bring long-awaited freedom from all our enemies. It identifies John as the one who will go before Jesus and prepare everyone inwardly for the outward changes about to happen. It culminates with images of a rising sun, setting people free from darkness and death, and revealing to them the pathways they can take toward true peace.

The Less Obvious

The few poignant things we know about Zechariah, Elizabeth, and Mary nudge us to see how they might also be archetypes to help us understand our own complex personalities. There is a little of each of them in each of us. Their personalities are exposed in the challenges they face. And we see each of them making choices. Seeing the similarities between ourselves and them, we find that the range of our own choices during difficult times is expanded.

God is both a destroyer and builder in the Magnificat and Benedictus. Yes—we have a God of love and mercy, a God who comes to the aid of the lowly. But also a God who steals us away from our enemies and pulls the powerful down from their thrones. This is no childish picture of sunshine and flowers, from beginning to the end. Systems must be upended in order for there to be justice and peace. Fear and darkness of every sort must be rooted out and annihilated. There can be no peace without justice—without things being made right. The comfortable will always object that the ends don’t justify the means. But the biblical narrative keeps us from getting too comfortable with that argument.

Zechariah becomes speechless for a reason. His own voice, full of doubt (and perhaps sarcasm) will be silenced for a spell so it will not interfere with him learning something new. We are always influenced by our own voice more than anything else, whether it speaks through our lips or chatters away silently inside our minds. The first thing God destroys in this story of salvation is Zechariah’s voice. God needs Zechariah to be hopeful, strong, and joyful. But he must get him to shut-up in order for that transformation to take place. The right thing within us cannot grow until the weeds of our thought and word babblings are removed.

John’s job will be to “turn hearts.” It is one thing to notice one another with our eyes and ears. We take in the news, the gossip, the stereotypes we expect. Our feelings build up about one another. And those feelings filter what the eyes and ears subsequently take in. But when we see one another with the “heart,” caricatures are shattered and we ushered into a world of pain, empathy, understanding, and potential that we never imagined. According to Gabriel, John will turn people’s hearts to one another. He will turn people’s hearts to righteousness—which means “healthy relationships of goodwill” in the Bible. While Jesus will change people and systems, John will start the work by “turning people’s hearts…” If we want justice and peace in our own day, the first item on our “to do” list is to turn our hearts to not only the poor, but to our enemies as well.

Gabriel tells Mary that she is “favored” by God. But there is no reason given for that. We humans always seem to favor other people for a reason. But in this, God is mysteriously different. As far as we can tell, God favors Mary on a mere whim—so the text leads us to believe. But what starts as a whim is solid and everlasting as it unfolds. And in this story we get a snapshot of what grace is. Mary has accomplished nothing of note in her short life. She is more of an airhead in this story than a deep philosopher. She does not have a pedigree, as does her fiancé Joseph. But she is nevertheless a recipient of God’s grace: a divine fantasy and fancy, a happy and generous impulse. But not trivial. Grace comes with life-long guarantees backed up by the full powers of the Almighty.

The context of Luke 1 is the reign of Herod I. Herod was wealthy, savvy, and ruthless. He was a puppet of the Roman Emperor, but treated his Palestinian subjects like they were vermin. He was not the fulfillment of Israel’s ancient stories and songs. Instead, he made a mockery of the people’s finest prophets and principles. He was one of the enemies that needed to be brought down. Of course, once Herod died, he was just replaced by other Herods, several of his own sons with the same name. Zechariah had become more attuned to the Herods than to the stories and songs of his faith. That was going to change in Luke 1.

The notion of fear has a prominent place in Luke 1. It is the great darkness that pervades both society and psyche. The path to true peace begins with stepping away from our fears of darkness and death. Zechariah’s first response to the messenger of good news is “he was terrified and fear overwhelmed him.” The messengers first words to him were, “Don’t be afraid, Zechariah.” When Gabriel first appeared to Mary, he also warned her about fear, knowing that even the brave must battle it. When Zechariah later speaks of being delivered from enemies, we must remember that an enemy’s first power over us is intimidation—a type of fear. Freedom from our enemies must include the inner work of wresting free from believing their threats. Zechariah pictures a day when we can do God’s good work without fear. Constant darkness and death leaves us cringing. The road to peace (v. 79) always starts with an exodus—from our own inner fears of darkness and death.

Conclusion

Luke 1 is an important text for the Advent Season. It raises the issue of increasing the capacity inside our own hearts by dissolving the fears found there. It is fear (such as Zechariah had) that leaves us cynical, hardened, pessimistic, and visionless. As we prepare for a great joy and the coming of the Prince of Peace, we begin with therapies that reduce our fears, thereby making us stronger to prepare and participate in God’s next move.

^[1] None of the Bible’s books were originally marked with chapters and verses. These divisions were inserted centuries later to help scholars hone in on particular sections and lines. From the earliest times, both the Old and New Testament writings were divided into various paragraph and numbering schemes. The present chapter divisions—for Christian Bibles—first appeared in English translations of the Bible in the early 1200s. The first verse markings of the Old Testament appeared in the 900s. The present day markings have been around since the 1400s. In the New Testament, current verse markings were established by the mid 1500s.

Podcast Advent 2 Peace

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