God’s Special Child

Sermon text for December 14, 2008:
Luke 1:67-79
Preached at Peoples Presbyterian Church, Denver, Colorado

Zechariah and Elizabeth had grown old together, and for the most part life was good to them. As one of the priests ministering in Jerusalem, Zechariah was always able to make a living. He had not grown wealthy like the tax collectors or the money changers, but with his share of the people’s sacrifices, Zechariah and Elizabeth always had enough.

There was only one thing lacking in their lives and it was a continuing source of sorrow. Elizabeth was barren so no children livened up their home. Being childless was a bigger issue for Elizabeth than it was for Zechariah. He had an identity and community standing as a priest, but a woman’s worth was measured by the children she bore, so poor childless Elizabeth was a “nobody”. She had no standing in the community, and since she was well beyond child bearing age, there was no hope that anything would change.

One year Zechariah was chosen by his colleagues to be the priest who would enter the Holy of Holies in the Temple to offer sacrifices on behalf of the people. It was a great honor that might come around once in a lifetime. But no matter how much Zechariah looked forward to the privilege, he could not have guessed what was going to happen to him in that sacred place.

As Zechariah performed the prescribed liturgy and rituals, an Angel of the Lord appeared to him with an unbelievable promise. Aged Elizabeth was going to conceive and give birth to a baby boy. The promise was too wonderful to believe, even though it was announced in the most sacred place of wonder and mystery.

Yet as our lesson for today begins, it is nine months later and Zechariah, who has been mute for this entire time, is holding the promised child. As he gazed on the child’s face, Zechariah was filled with the Holy Spirit and he began to sing a song of praise.

Clearly this was no ordinary child. Not only was he born to a couple who were well beyond child bearing age, he was conceived with his life’s mission already decided. If he accepted his calling John would become a part of God’s eternal plan for salvation. Zechariah sang of John’s mission to the astonished group of family and friends who gathered for his circumcision.

“Blessed be the Lord God of Israel”, he sang, “for he has looked favorably on his people and redeemed them. He has raised up a mighty Savior for us in the house of his servant David.” In John’s birth Zechariah saw the fulfillment of promises that were centuries old. In his tiny son the prayers of generations of believers were finally answered.

Yet John himself was not the answer, he came into the world to smooth the way for Jesus, in whom God entrusted the salvation of humankind. Zechariah held his son and sang, “And you, child, shall be called the prophet of the Most High, for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways, to give knowledge of salvation to his people by the forgiveness of their sin.” And the Bible tells us that John became the voice “Crying in the wilderness, ‘prepare the way of the Lord, and repent for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand’.”

Do you remember what you said to your children or grandchildren when you first picked them up and held them in your arms? What was it like to hold that tiny little bundle for the first time? Perhaps there is no more common experience that fills us with such wonder, love, fear, and joy.

I remember the first time I held our oldest son in my arms. He had just flown with about four hundred other orphans all the way from Viet Nam. My wife and I spent a sleepless night with hundreds of other families waiting for our children to deplane.

Slowly the children began to trickle into the terminal with their chaperones, and we jumped each time a child seemed to be the right size and age. At last someone called our name and handed us a beautiful two year old boy, and he was a miracle child. He had lived through a war that killed thousands of soldiers and civilians. He survived as a mixed race child while others died of racist neglect or worse. He was on the first plane out of Viet Nam after another plane load of children had fallen out of the sky killing most of them. He was our miracle child.

I held him in my arms and saw the fear and weariness in his eyes, and I wrapped him in a baby blanket that someone had given us. In that moment all that I wanted to do was to protect him so that nothing bad would ever happen to him again. I resolved to let him know that he was a miracle child, a child of God, of infinite worth because that is how God made him. Now when I hold my grandchildren I feel similar emotions and I tell them how special they are, that Jesus loves them, that their grandma and I love them. And often I utter a silent vow to do my best to protect them from any harm.

In some ways that is what Advent is all about. It is about dusting off our rough exteriors and letting our hearts melt with the “specialness” and promise inherent in every child. The way I understand our Christian faith, each child, like Zechariah and Elizabeth’s son, is born with a mission and a destiny already in place.

Now listen to me carefully because you may not have realized this before: Our destiny is the same as that with which God endowed John – to prepare people to meet the Savior.

Some of us have never heard this before. We believe that preparing the way for Jesus is just for special people like Zechariah’s son. If that is what you have always believed, let me say this as clearly as I can. You are a very special person, born as was John, to live in such a way that others are drawn to you, and through you, to the Savior.

That is my Christmas present to you.

Copyright © 2008 by Dwight R. Blackstock