Zechariah, Elizabeth & the Advent Season

Zechariah, Elizabeth & the Advent Season

By April Mills

11/30/2025

 First United Methodist Church

For some of us present today, we carry deep heartache burdened by the ever-persistent sadness that accompanies the absence of a beloved family member. It is a grief felt even more poignantly with the passing of the Thanksgiving Holiday. And though it seems dark, and the ceiling of the world is a wound, there will be stars up there tonight. Our necks arched and the cages of our hearts parted a little wider while peering heavenward, perhaps we harbor hope because sky hooked prayers are guarding us from spite with the same resolve that keeps the universe whole and the moon from slipping. And in the morning these magnificent stars never fail to herd the pale lamb like dawn into our sleeping houses.

The stars above us now were much like the stars above Elizabeth and Zechariah all those years ago. I suppose that this older couple would never consider wishing upon a star, whistling one down like a dog in faith of its shine. I wonder in their longing to be parents if they ever looked up and noticed an exceptionally bright star faithfully moving forward in space and time to shine above a certain manger. A star foretold in the Book of Numbers to come from the house of Jacob. A star poised and ready to answer the prayer of a nation, and later the entire world, that Hope was coming, lamb like, into every home as fluent and loving as milk. None the less, the stars have ushered in a day that forever changed the life of Elizabeth and Zechariah, and if we are lucky, our lives too.

Tradition teaches us that this encounter between Zechariah and Gabriel is part of the Advent season. And in each season, we are all invited to reexamine our traditions to find modern value in ancient sacred scripture. So I invite you now to peer deeper than you ever have before with new eyes and affirming hearts to contemplate the living Word of God as it applies to us today.

Luke, the author of today’s 2nd reading, established early in the text both the timeline of this narrative and the social and religious standing of both Zechariah & Elizabeth—our central figures. Very quickly though, Luke pivots his attentions solely on Zechariah when he writes of an encounter with the Arch Angel Gabriel.

In the encounter we find Zechariah experiencing a crisis of identity after Gabriel reveals he will be a father in his old age. Verse 18, “Zechariah said to the angel How will I know that this is so? For I am an old man and my wife is getting on in years.

Our modern ears might empathize deeply with Zechariah’s dismay. But the telling and retelling of this story may have left us tone deaf to the identity crisis he is surely experiencing. Yes, there were others in Zechariah’s own ancient past who were elderly parents. We all know the story of Abraham and Sarah. But the Story of Abraham and Sarah which Zechariah had traditionally studied many, many times, meant something altogether different for him when applied to his own life in that precise moment. And the result, doubt. Doubt because of his age. Maybe even doubt in his ability to father a child, let alone see the babe raised fully to adulthood.

Dear listeners, this pure moment of vulnerability for Zechariah in the presence of God’s Holy messenger, in the holiest of places a temple, on one of the holiest days in Zechariah’s season of serving as a high priest bear all of the markings of God’s gift of opportunity not at all the curse for doubting. And so God through an emissary blesses Zechariah with the opportunity to engage in silent contemplation—rendering him mute for a time.

From John McLaren, a member of the Center for Action and Contemplation. He writes, “Traditions are cultural communities that carry on, from generation to generation, ideas and practices in which they see great enduring value. Like everything in this universe, traditions are constantly changing. Sometimes they change for the better. Sometimes they change for the worse. Even if a tradition were to stay exactly the same, to be the same thing in a different environment is not the same thing…. 

We have no choice as to the tradition into which we were born. As we grow older, we must decide: Is this inherited tradition life-giving, death-dealing, or a mix of both? Is it time to migrate to a new spiritual tradition?”

Perhaps after much contemplation it was time for Zechariah to adopt a new spiritual tradition—self acceptance especially in his old age. For Zechariah, this also meant he had to commit to being a new father and make his wife a new mother. And it was so, for we read in verse 24, After those days his wife Elizabeth conceived, and for five months she remained in seclusion.

We know from our Bible readings that Zechariah had come around. He spent some time alone really thinking about that encounter with Gabriel, and once he surrendered to the message of the encounter, made up his mind to be a father. Zechariah trusted God to protect his wife while she was pregnant, what’s more knowing the times he lived in and the risks to both mother and child in the birthing process, let alone the survival rate of early childhood, Zechariah believed inherently that both would live—even Elizabeth in her old age.

Finally, the day had come. From Luke 1 verses 57-63 and 76-78, just after John’s birth.

On the eighth day they came to circumcise the child, and they were going to name him Zechariah after his father. But his mother said, “No; he is to be called John.” They said to her, “None of your relatives has this name.” Then they began motioning to his father to find out what name he wanted to give him. He asked for a writing tablet and wrote, “His name is John.”

Then Zechariah was filled with the Holy Spirit and prophesied:

And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High,
    for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways,
to give his people knowledge of salvation
    by the forgiveness of their sins.

Because of the tender mercy of our God,

    the dawn from on high will break upon us,

to shine upon those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.”

For Zechariah and Elizabeth both, Hope was fulfilled.

Fast forward a couple of years, Zechariah sits after a family celebration. The guests, gone. The table cleared. The left-over food wrapped carefully for another meal, this proud father rests content, feeling the warmth of his wife as she leans gently against him. In this alternate ending, Zechariah is now 88 years old, and his wife Elizabeth, though gray haired, is still beautiful in his eyes. They both listen closely to their grown child, now in his 30s telling of his encounters and message for God. Zecheriah, always contemplative after that fate filled experience with the Angel, listens with one ear, and studies his adult child. To himself he thinks, in all my years, I would never have guessed John to become this kind of man.

Always thinking, Zechariah recalled the day Elizabeth and Mary stood under the portico and both women gasped when they noticed their unborn sons had recognized each other. Zechariah was a little caught off guard by the stray thought. He just realized that John, one of God’s chosen, knew his identity even from the womb. How had he never seen that before?

Then Zechariah thought about all the ways John’s life had been different than a father and high priest would have expected. He was wearing unusual clothing more and more lately. He had also started eating an unusual diet. It was something that appeared to frustrate Elizabeth, who had worked so hard to prepare the celebration dinner. “Of all of the traditional foods I made, foods he loved as a child, why does John only eat honey and locusts now? Elizabeth wondered out loud earlier that day. Clearly, she was a little hurt by John’s new attitude. “It’s only food,” Zechariah says, trying to comfort his wife. “What’s more important is that he is here with us today.”

However at the time, Zechariah was secretly a little worried. Because John was now living strangely in the wild—taking to roaming far away from the relative safety of his home. That more than anything was what scared Zechariah. Being alone in the wild—who knew what influences or events were happening out there, far from the security of the culture John grew up in. But Zechariah was consoled somewhat as he listened to his son talk about recent events.

“Father,” said John, “I have some news for you. I have decided to adopt a new name. I am no longer John, Son of Zechariah. That name is dead for me now. I am being called John the Baptist. The other day, I baptized 20 people in the river Jordan.”

Jolted immediately back into the present, Zechariah was shocked. “Baptized? What is Baptized?” And so John patiently begins to explain how he had contemplated the practice of the ritual bath and made it new. How he used this tradition as an outward sign for followers who’ve repented to declare their faith in God. For the Zechariah of my telling today, this would no doubt be a turning point between father and child. Who takes everything they ever learned at the knees of their religious parents and changes it? What child dares question what they were raised to believe?

“From Reddit: I was born and raised Christian. And…well--I'm pretty sure now that I'm transgender and lesbian. So I don't know. I'm just worried and kinda lost in this whole debate about sin and sexuality and don't really know what to think anymore. Can anyone help?”

Who, who my friends, takes everything they were ever raised to believe and questions it? John did. He questioned traditional clothing and found options that aligned with his identity. He questioned what he ate and drank, and aligned his diet to his beliefs. He questioned his association with community, and went instead to live where he felt affirmed and safe in a different corner of God’s Kingdom. Above all, John questioned some of the dogmatic beliefs and practices of the day and aligned them with God’s Holy purpose to restore the house of Isreal. Can you see the link my friends? Can you see the dot I just connected? There is so much from John’s life that is similar to our queer and trans Christian siblings. I want to be clear before I move on. There is no current scholarly debate over John’s gender, identity, or sexual orientation.

Even so, John holds something else in common with some of the Queer and Trans Christians of our time. John was murdered for his convictions. He was killed because he represented a direct threat to someone in power, King Herod. John upset the status quo because he chose to come out, live his truth, and talk about it openly rather than hide in the closet. A recent news headline from Washington DC illustrates the same story in our own age.  

“The National Black Justice Collective (NBJC) mourns the death of Da Queen ‘Dream’ Johnson, a 28-year-old Black transgender woman. She was shot and killed on Saturday, July 5. The D.C. police are asking for the public’s help in solving this case. Dream’s family and local advocates believe this is a hate crime.”

Did Dream Cry out to God? What about John? Did he cry out to God when he was facing his death? If either did, were there words anything like David’s Psalm from the Hebrew Bible?

I am the utter contempt of my neighbors

and an object of dread to my closest friends—

those who see me on the street flee from me.

I am forgotten as though I were dead;

I have become like broken pottery.

For I hear many whispering,

“Terror on every side!”

They conspire against me

and plot to take my life.

Did Dream, and possibly millions of other Trans people pray to God for protection like David did?  Is this their prayer now?

Save me in your unfailing love, God,

from my parents who have hated and disowned me.

Save me in your unfailing love, God,

from a community that won’t hire me.

Save me in your unfailing love, God,

from the nurse who refuses to provide care on principle.

Save me in your unfailing love, God,

from the people who want to kill me.

Save me. Save me. Save me.

Where was Dream’s Hope? Where is our Hope now? Are we like David and willing to place our Hope in God truly shouting, “Love the LORD, all you faithful people! The LORD preserves those who are true to him, but the proud he pays back in full. Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the LORD.”

As a community we have taken heart. A couple of years ago, we made a commitment to be an open and affirming faith. We welcome all to the table every week. We have lifted up leadership, members of the LGBTQ community, who have the bandwidth in their busy lives to contribute to the Kindom of God now, here, present with us today. But have we demonstrated that strength in other areas of this church community? Look around friends, where do we have room to grow? Think about it. In this sanctuary, what spaces can we expand to allow our divine siblings to be seen and included? What are the spaces that subtly exclude them?

May I make a suggestion? Look now at the cover of our program today friends. Look long at the image of Jesus. The title of the art is called Christ Breaks the Riffle.

John calls to you from beyond the grave to consider the weapons that have been used against our trans siblings and children. In some cases yes, it is a gun. But sometimes the weapons wielded against the Queer community are far more subtle. This is the same weapon that was used to justify slavery. The same weapon that was used to justify misogyny. That weapon is in our pews even now. Bright red, and boldly lettered with the words The Holy Bible. It has become for some a sacred weapon that has perverted the Word of God for longer than any one of us would care to admit. It was forged out of more than a thousand years of injustice designed to preserve power in the hands of those who fear change.

Our task as a church is to consider how we can change that narrative now. We should consider things contemplatively, as John did. And usher in small things that change the narrative from fear to hope. Our time is now. As parents, siblings, and Allies, we have access to other options. And by choosing those options perhaps bend arc of the moral universe back towards justice. We have the opportunity to take was has been weaponized, and turn it once more into the tool is should be--hope.

My gift to all of you this Advent Season is a to offer each of you the opportunity to embrace a different way of seeing some of the texts that have been used to harm Queer and Trans people for thousands of years. Though there are so many passages to select from, I would like to read just one passages to you, as an example.

1 Corinthians 6:9

New Revised Standard Version: Do you not know that the wrongdoers will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived! Fornicators, idolaters, adulterers, male prostitutes, sodomites, male prostitutes, sodomites,

That verse, and many more does more harm than good for our divinely created Christian queer friends, family, and coworkers—let alone this church community. But there is another translation we could adopt.

From the Queen Jame Version: Know ye not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God? Be not deceived: neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor morally weak, nor promiscuous,

In an age where words matter, and what we read influences who we are—it’s time to look at subtle ways we can include everyone. We don’t have to decide today, but we must decide.

Circle back with me once more. I ask you to contemplate this question posed so elegantly by John McLaren: “Is this inherited tradition, a non-inclusive Bible, a life-giving, death-dealing tradition, or a mix of both? Is it time to migrate to a new spiritual tradition?”  

In closing, it is my prayer that John’s ministry can still do the job it was intended to do thousands of years ago. As the Arch Angel Gabriel said, “With the spirit and power of Elijah John will go before Jesus, 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.”

This is the Word of the Lord, Amen.