Incense is like perfume, except instead of a liquid in a jar, it’s a powder that you burn. The fragrance is in the smoke as it rises up towards heaven. It’s easy to imagine that fragrance rising all the way up to God, where he can smell it, too, and then think of you down here on the earth. The incense is like prayers rising up, which is why so many people pray when the incense burns. The fragrance of the incense is the fragrance of power and wonder and even fear, lifting people up towards heaven and bowing them to the ground at the same time.
Zechariah the priest stares at the column of smoke rising from the incense burning on the altar. It’s the first time and the last time he gets to do this. And it feels, for those few moments as the powder burns, as if he’s standing in the very center of the entire universe. The Altar of Incense is in a small room called “The Most Holy Place.” And “The Most Holy Place” is in the heart of the Temple of God. Outside the temple is the nation of Israel, God’s chosen people. And surrounding God’s chosen people is the Empire of Rome, which controls the entire world. The furnaces of Rome, like the great furnace of Babylon, create everything. Crowns. Coins. Armies. Everything the snake tells them they need to survive. The great city of Rome is where the snake lives, where he spreads his lies across the entire world. Where the strong destroy the weak. Where there’s never enough for everyone. Where one mistake — not saying the right words or not spending enough money or not killing the right people or not worshipping the right god — can ruin everything. The snake has never had more control over the world than he does now. He’s never spoken more loudly and into more hearts than he does in Rome.
And inside the Empire of Rome is the nation of Israel. And in Israel is the Temple. And in the Temple is a room called “The Most Holy Place.” And in that room stands Zechariah the priest, burning incense on the altar to God. And then, as Zechariah watches the last of the incense burn away and the smoke get thinner and thinner, he suddenly feels as if he’s not in the center of the universe after all. Beyond the altar is a curtain, and beyond the curtain is the one room in the temple that Zechariah is not allowed to go into. The holiest room in the entire world. The room called “The Holy of Holies.” And it’s empty. The Ark of the Covenant is supposed to be in there, but it was lost when Babylon ruled the world. And now, here’s Rome, and there’s still no Ark. Still no Child to crush the snake. Still no child of any kind.
Zechariah the priest is an old man, and all he’s ever wanted is a child. Just like Abraham before the angels came to destroy Sodom. Except Zechariah was never given any promises from God. No stars-in-the-sky or sand-of-the-seashore promises. Zechariah has prayed for a child every day of his life, and still his wife Elizabeth has never been pregnant. Outside the temple, people who love God are praying as the smoke of the incense rises and rises and blows away on the wind, praying that Rome will end, that the snake will no longer be in control, that the Child will come, the Child of Eve who will be born to crush the snake. But there is still no child. No child for Israel. And no child for Zechariah.
The smoke is gone and it’s time to leave. But as Zechariah turns from the altar, he suddenly feels as if he’s no longer alone in the room. He looks to the door, but it’s still closed. He turns back to the altar.
And there he is. Standing next to the altar as if he’s been there the whole time, waiting for the smoke to clear. A man shining as if his skin reflects the moon and his eyes are filled with the stars of heaven. He’s not much larger than Zechariah, and yet his presence fills up the whole room, like an eagle spreading its great wings, so much larger than you imagine.
The man standing next to the altar is an angel from God. No one has seen a visitor from Heaven in hundreds of years. Not since Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were rescued in the furnace of Babylon. And now, the old, childless priest, Zechariah, gets to see one? But it’s too much for the old man. The angel fills so much space in the room that Zechariah can hardly breath. He wants to run outside where everyone is waiting for him, were the open sky waits for him, where even Rome waits because Rome is normal. Rome is there every day of his life. But not this. Not this shining man filling The Most Holy Place with his smile and his strength. Zechariah takes a step back toward the door.
“Zechariah,” says the angel, “don’t be afraid. I’m here because God loves you. Because you have prayed to him, and he has heard you. You are going to have what you have wanted more than anything, what you thought would never come. Your wife, Elizabeth, will have a son.”
No, thinks Zechariah. It’s far too late. I’m far too old. Don’t tease me. Don’t hurt me like this.
The angel looks into Zechariah’s eyes and says, “It’s true. You will call him John. And he will make you very happy. And not just you, but many people. God will love him, and he’ll do great things! He will be so special to God that he will be filled with the Holy Spirit even before he’s born! He will teach so many people to love God. He will get everyone ready for the Child. The Child who will finally, finally, finally crush the snake once and for all!”
The angel’s joy fills every last bit of space in the room, and Zechariah feels as if the walls might burst at any moment. Instead of filling him with happiness, it makes him more afraid. It makes him sad. It even makes him angry.
“Why?” says Zechariah.
The angel looks at him for a moment, and the shining man’s smile slowly fades.
“Why me?” Zechariah continues. “Why now? Why after so long? Why when I’m old? How can an old man and an old women who no one cares about raise a child so wonderful that he’ll help rescue us all from Rome? How can an old man like me do anything against the snake? I’m too old! It’s too late!”
“Do you know who I am?” says the angel.
Zechariah is so afraid of being disappointed that even an angel isn’t enough to convince him that his prayer has finally been answered. He has nothing left to say.
“I am Gabriel,” says the angel. “I stand in front of God in Heaven. He sent me here to tell you his words. To tell you this wonderful news. You should have so much joy, but instead you’re angry and sad. And so now you will be silent. You will not be allowed to say anything at all until you believe my good news. You will not speak a single word until the first words out of your mouth can be words of joy when you see your newborn son.”
I’m sorry, Zechariah says. But no sound comes out of his mouth. He can hear the words in his mind, but his tongue won’t make them. He wants to run. He turns to the door and glances back over his shoulder.
The angel is gone. The Altar of Incense, now cold, stands alone.
Zechariah opens the door and stumbles outside to where everyone is waiting for him. He tries to tell them what he just saw, what he just heard. But his mouth still won’t work. Nothing but the sound of his breathing comes out.
“You saw something in there,” says someone.
“God gave you a vision,” says another.
Yes! Zechariah thinks but can’t say. It’s something impossible! So impossible! And yet, what if it’s true? What if it’s true? All Zechariah can do is wave his hands around and point and run home as fast as his old legs will take him. All he can do is write everything for his wife to read and hope she believes it so that she won’t lose her voice, too. So that maybe she can believe for the both of them.
Months go by, and still Zechariah can’t speak. But he can see. He can see that his wife is pregnant. He can see it every time she turns to the side and stands up straight, her belly growing larger, plain for everyone to see. And as he watches her belly grow and counts the days until the baby should be born, he finally stops doubting that his prayer has been answered. He finally believes that he will have a son, no matter how old he is. And now that he believes the first part, he starts thinking about the second. The much larger part. The part about what his son will do with his life. The part about getting everyone ready for the Child. The Child of Eve who will crush the snake once and for all. If the angel was right about Zechariah having a child, then could he also be right about that child helping The Child? And wouldn’t that mean The Child is coming soon? Very soon? Wouldn’t that mean that everything is about to change? Forever?
And finally, Zechariah feels joy building up inside of him. It fills his heart and his mind, and he wants to let it all out before he explodes. He wants to share his joy with everyone, tell everyone the wonderful news. But he can’t. He still can’t make the words leave his mouth, and he spends the last days before his son is born smiling and jumping, pacing and running, bursting with news and joy that no one can understand. He wants his son to be born not just so he can finally hold him in his arms, but so that the wonderful news of The Child can be born too, bursting out of his mouth like a great laugh.
And the day comes. The child comes. A son is born to Zechariah. His relatives and neighbors are there to share his happiness, and when they ask Elizabeth what the child will be called, she tells them exactly what the angel told them: John.
“Shouldn’t his name be Zechariah?” says one of the relatives. “Like his father? Or maybe his grandfather’s name?”
No! thinks Zechariah. We will call him EXACTLY what the angel told us to call him! What God wants us to call him! But he still can’t speak. He furiously motions with his hands for something to write on. Someone rushes from the room, then rushes back in with a writing tablet and pushes it into Zechariah’s hand. And Zechariah writes in large, fast letters:
His name is John!
And then Zechariah feels something strange. It feels as if he’s had something stuck in his mouth for the past nine months, something wrapped around his tongue, filling his throat, and now, suddenly, it’s gone. He opens his mouth, and all the joy that has been trapped inside of him comes rushing out like a great wind filling the sails of a ship.
“God be praised!” shouts Zechariah. “Because he has come to rescue us! He has come to show mercy to Adam and Eve, to Abraham, to Shadrach and Meshach and Abednego, to everyone who prayed and waited and loved God even though the snake was in control of everything! He has come to rescue us from the snake!”
Zechariah then looks down at his newborn son sleeping in his wife’s arms.
“And you, child,” he says. “You will be called a prophet of God. You will get everyone ready. Because soon — so very soon — a New Adam will come to fight against the snake.
“And the snake will lose.”
RNM
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Pyj8E8er-mlXlNoee2X907wTH6cU4vjC/view?usp=drivesdk
The Brow of the Hill 