Stephen Baldwin
NT: Luke 1.68-79
Reasonable Doubts
It’s a good time to be a
pessimist. There’s plenty of evidence
across the world to support your worldview.
But Advent & Christmas are also the best time of year to be an optimist…to
find hope where others cannot.
A family
had twin boys whose only resemblance to each other was their looks. If one felt
it was too hot, the other thought it was too cold. If one said the TV was too
loud, the other claimed the volume needed to be turned up. Opposite in every
way, one was an eternal optimist, the other a doom and gloom pessimist.
Just to see
what would happen, on the twins' birthday their father loaded the pessimist's
room with every imaginable toy and game. in the optimist’s room, he put absolutely
nothing.
That night the father passed by the
pessimist's room and found him sitting amid his new gifts crying
bitterly.
"Why are you crying?" the
father asked.
"Because my friends will be
jealous, I'll have to read all these instructions before I can do anything with
this stuff, I'll constantly need batteries, and my toys will eventually get
broken." answered the pessimist twin.
Passing the optimist twin's room,
the father found him giggling and wondering around his room with a big smile on
his face. "What are you so happy about?" he asked.
To which his optimist twin replied,
"You hid my present really well!”
Today’s story from Luke is one of
my favorites. This time of year we
typically read Mary’s magnificat (her song of praise she proclaims for all the
world to hear when she finds out she has been chosen to carry the Christ
child). Magnificat literally means, “My
soul magnifies!” Mary gives a beautiful,
poetic, powerful song, but…she’s an optimist!
Of course she would find the best in even a bad situation!
There’s another magnificat in Luke 1, and it
comes from a doom and gloom pessimist.
That’s why I like it so much, I think—because it is so unexpected. Let me read you the magnificat of Zechariah
(father of John the Baptist).
READ LUKE 1.68-79.
Beautiful, isn’t it? The optimists agree while the pessimists know
there has to be a catch. Let me tell you
the back story.
Zechariah was a priest. He and his wife, like Abraham and Sarah,
spent so much of their lives serving the church they didn’t have time for kids
of their own, and they were getting on in years. One day, Zechariah was on duty at the temple,
which meant it was his turn to pray with the walk-ins who didn’t have an
appointment. During a prayer, an angel
appeared to him out of thin air.
Zechariah was terrified; this had never happened to him before. But the angel comforted him, saying, “Do not
be afraid. I’m here to answer your
prayers. Your wife will bear a
son.”
He said, “I
don’t remember praying for that! Have you
noticed how old my wife is?”
The angel
responded, “I’ve just given you good news, but still you doubt. Therefore, you will be unable to speak until
your son comes.” And that was that. He didn’t speak in conception, he didn’t
speak in his wife’s five months of seclusion, or the last four months of her
pregnancy. Zechariah didn’t say a
mumblin’ word for nearly 300 days, after he dared to question God and speak ill
of his wife. Let that be a lesson to
you, husbands!
The time
came for their son to be born. Everybody
assumed they would name him after his father, Zechariah Jr. Elizabeth
didn’t think so! She had a name of her
own. She said, “His name will be
John.”
The people
still weren’t satisfied. Zechariah came
from a long line of priests. Wouldn’t a
family name be a nice way to honor that?
They asked Zechariah what he thought.
A man who hadn’t spoken for nine months.
A man who hadn’t said a word through morning sickness and labor pains
and cravings. A man whose last words had
been something about how old his wife was.
Now, tell me: How do you think he responded?
He took out
his chisel and wrote on a piece of rock, “Listen to the woman. Name him John.” And immediately, after nearly 300 days of
silence, his mouth was opened, he could speak freely again, and he chose his
words quite carefully. The words he
spoke are the words we just read.
“Blessed be the Lord God of Israel ...this
child will be called prophet of the most high…he will guide our feet into the
way of peace.” Zechariah, the pessimist,
repented. He changed his mind. He found hope in a hopeless situation.
Zechariah’s story is the story of
our lives. God sends us a message. We have reasonable doubts as to whether or
not that message will come true. So we
sit with it for a while, usually in silence, to let it simmer and sink in. Then, we eventually begin to believe God’s
promises on our lives are possible. We
can nurture life, we can find purpose in what we do daily, and we can find
joy…even in the ordinary, everyday lives we call our own. We can…believe.
Sure, this is a good time to be a
pessimist. If you don’t believe. If you don’t find hope in Advent. If you don’t think Jesus’ birth some tow
thousand years ago changed everything for all time. But if you do believe and you do take hope
and you do think Jesus changed everything, then this is a good time to be
alive.
Anything is possible with God. The barren can conceive. The pessimist can hope. The child can save. Amen.
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