Of blessings at unexpected times

The other night, I came home after a long, tiring day, trudging in from the darkness of the early evening. Our days have become short so quickly; it is pitch black when I get up and pitch black by the time I arrive home. Autumn evenings here are not unpleasant; lately a bright, full moon has graced the eastern sky, and I catch glimpses of it through the trees trembling in the crisp breeze. I’ve missed the freshness is the air; the summer has been too long and hot.

I immediately sank into the couch. I reached for an afghan and the Bible the laid nearby. I curled up and turned to the opening chapter of Luke. I needed to just start reading, find some internal pool of refreshment.

It came almost instantly. Just after the opening of the book, Luke, with all the compassion of a family doctor, begins the chronicle the circumstances of Jesus’ birth. The story starts with an almost expected cast of characters: a righteous couple in crisis. He is a priest. She is a barren woman. Both serve God well, but the very passion that has driven their service seems to have gone unrewarded. They have no idea what is ahead, no clue of the story they are about to stumble into. They are going about their usual business when the time for the annual sacrifice comes about. The lot is cast to see what descendant of Aaron will represent the Israelites in the Holy of Holies. This privilege falls to, of all people, Zacharias.

Can you see the scene? His fellow priests look to him in awe. Zacharias has been accorded the honor of a lifetime. What do they say? Congratulations? Shalom? Or nothing at all? It was a solemn duty to enter the Holy of Holies. A rope was tied around the appointed priest’s ankle, so if he entered and was stuck dead by God because of His anger at the people, or if the offering was found unacceptable, he could be safely removed. Yet this would be the pinnacle of his career.

And in spite of it all, he probably still felt very empty. In that culture, in spite of your class or rank or name, you mattered only if you had a family. A son to carry on your name.

Sure, Zacharias had every reason to be grateful. He’d just been granted the greatest privilege the priesthood could offer. He was honored and respected in the community. But Elizabeth was still barren, and together, it was their deepest sorrow. So he knows he should be happy, and yet, something isn’t quite right.

So Zacharias goes to fulfill his duty. The entire assembly of Israel is watching as he walks through the temple, and into the Holy of Holies, to see what few men’s eyes have ever seen. Not only does he witness this amazing historic place, but he meets… an angel. And Zacharias is, understandably, afraid. What is he thinking now? In this moment of awe, he is probably thinking of his people – of those waiting outside for their annual redemption. What will the angel tell him? Of the sins of the people, of God’s anger? Right now, Zacharias is the representative of his people, and probably assumes God will communicate to him as such.

“But the angel said to him, ‘Do not be afraid, Zacharias, for your prayer is heard; and your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you shall call his name John. And you will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth.’”

Zacharias must have blinked. *My* prayer? Gabriel is not referring to Zacharias’ priestly prayer here; he is talking about his very personal prayer, the cry of his heart for a son. And he is using this moment in Zacharias’ life – at what you could say is the height of his service to God – to reveal how God has been miraculously working all along. God had waited for this very moment to announce the ultimate fulfillment of this priest’s heart.

This part of the story seems so surprising. At a time when God was expected to display his glory to one priest for the sake of His people, He did – but not though a single brilliant display of power, but by simply fulfilling the prayer of a righteous couple, and thousands of years of prophecy of the one who would “make straight the way of the Lord.” So it is a supernatural revelation… on a very personal level.

How often I forget that this is how God works. I’ve been so worried lately that my “calling” is going to somehow prevent God from fulfilling the desires of my heart. But sometimes our calling is the very vehicle He uses to show us just how much He cares… about us… personally. I got into politics based on a challenge. A teacher once told me that no one can go into politics and keep their spirit white. That was the first semester of my last year of high school. I’ve lived every day since then in an effort to try to prove him wrong. I accepted a spot at PHC only months later, and the rest, they say, is history. I had been fretting that this calling was somehow isolating me, but the more I think about it, the more I realize that God uses the unlikely circumstances of our calling – and unlikely timing therein – to fulfill His perfect plan, whether it’s what I pictured our not.

And that is a rather comforting thought.

Do not be afraid, for your prayer is heard.