Promises Made, Promises Kept: Against All Odds

In the days of King Herod of Judea, there was a priest named Zechariah, who belonged to the priestly order of Abijah. His wife was a descendant of Aaron, and her name was Elizabeth. Both of them were righteous before God, living blamelessly according to all the commandments and regulations of the Lord. But they had no children, because Elizabeth was barren, and both were getting on in years.

Once when he was serving as priest before God and his section was on duty, he was chosen by lot, according to the custom of the priesthood, to enter the sanctuary of the Lord and offer incense. Now at the time of the incense offering, the whole assembly of the people was praying outside. Then there appeared to him an angel of the Lord, standing at the right side of the altar of incense. When Zechariah saw him, he was terrified; and fear overwhelmed him. But the angel said to him, “Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you will name him John. You will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth, for he will be great in the sight of the Lord. He must never drink wine or strong drink; even before his birth he will be filled with the Holy Spirit. He will turn many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God. With the spirit and power of Elijah he will go before him, 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.” 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.” The angel replied, “I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I have been sent to speak to you and to bring you this good news. But now, because you did not believe my words, which will be fulfilled in their time, you will become mute, unable to speak, until the day these things occur.”

Meanwhile the people were waiting for Zechariah, and wondered at his delay in the sanctuary. When he did come out, he could not speak to them, and they realized that he had seen a vision in the sanctuary. He kept motioning to them and remained unable to speak. When his time of service was ended, he went to his home.

After those days his wife Elizabeth conceived, and for five months she remained in seclusion. She said, “This is what the Lord has done for me when he looked favorably on me and took away the disgrace I have endured among my people.”

Now the time came for Elizabeth to give birth, and she bore a son. Her neighbors and relatives heard that the Lord had shown his great mercy to her, and they rejoiced with her.

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.” And all of them were amazed. Immediately his mouth was opened and his tongue freed, and he began to speak, praising God. Fear came over all their neighbors, and all these things were talked about throughout the entire hill country of Judea. All who heard them pondered them and said, “What then will this child become?” For, indeed, the hand of the Lord was with him.

Then his father Zechariah was filled with the Holy Spirit and spoke this prophecy:

“Blessed be the Lord God of Israel,
    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,
as he spoke through the mouth of his holy prophets from of old,
    that we would be saved from our enemies and from the hand of all who hate us.
Thus he has shown the mercy promised to our ancestors,
    and has remembered his holy covenant,
the oath that he swore to our ancestor Abraham,
    to grant us that we, being rescued from the hands of our enemies,
might serve him without fear, in holiness and righteousness
    before him all our days.
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 knowledge of salvation to his people
    by the forgiveness of their sins.
By the tender mercy of our God,
    the dawn from on high will break upon us,
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
    to guide our feet into the way of peace.”

The child grew and became strong in spirit, and he was in the wilderness until the day he appeared publicly to Israel.   --Luke 1:5-25, 57-80 (NRSV)


Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and the Word made flesh, our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

It was February 1980 - the first game in the semi-final medal round of the Winter Olympics in Lake Placid, New York. The United States’ men’s hockey team was up against the team from the Soviet Union, today known as Russia. Ronald Reagan was president. It was the middle of the Cold War, the rivalry that developed after the 2nd World War between the U.S. and the Soviet Union and its allies. A rivalry that was fought on many fronts, including political, economic, military, and propaganda. 

In five of the six previous Winter Olympics, the Soviet team had won the gold medal. They were the favorites to win once more in Lake Placid. Their team consisted mostly of professional hockey players, who had extensive experience playing internationally. By contrast, the U.S. team was an all-amateur team. It was the youngest team in the tournament, the youngest team in U.S. national team history. 

By the time the two teams met in that semi-final game, both of them were undefeated in tournament play. But the Soviet team was still, by far, the favorite. 

With a capacity of 8,500, the Field House, where the game was played, was packed. The home crowd was waving U.S. flags and singing patriotic songs, such as “God Bless America.” In the moments before the U.S. team entered the rink, their coach - Herb Brooks - read this statement to his players: “You were born to be a player. You were meant to be here. This moment is yours.”

As in several previous games, the U.S. team fell behind early. But, by the end of the first period, the score was tied 2-2. By the end of the second, the Soviets were leading 3-2. In the third and final period, as the game was moving to a close, the U.S. had scored two more goals, putting them in the lead by 1. Let’s pick up the last minute of play here.

The game would come to be known as the “Miracle on Ice” and would go down in sports history. The U.S. team would win the gold medal by barely defeating Finland. But the biggest win for them - the win that was against all the odds - was the win against the team from the Soviet Union.

Against all odds. How often have you heard that phrase? When something happens that is unbelievable. Even miraculous. We say it was against all odds. 

Against all odds. I wonder if that’s what Zechariah was thinking that day. He was a priest in the priestly division of Abijah, one of 24 divisions of priests established by King David. There had been so many descendents of Aaron, that David had organized them into divisions, then into family clans. For two weeks during the year, each division was responsible to carry out all of the daily functions in the temple. Kind of similar to military reserve service. Which priests would serve was determined by chance. By a lottery held each day in the temple. All of the priests of the family clan serving that day would participate in this lottery. 

On the day of our story, Zechariah had won the lottery. Against all odds, he’d won the chance to enter the temple sanctuary to make the incense offering. A once in a lifetime experience for Zechariah. What a gift it must have been for him, at his age, to win this lottery, knowing that he was getting old. That both he and his wife, Elizabeth, were getting old.

Elizabeth, too, was a descendent of Aaron. She and Zechariah were blameless followers of God and the Jewish religion. They had done everything right. Except for one thing, as if this one thing was in their control. They had no children. No descendants to continue their ancestral line from Aaron. No children in a culture where having children was everything.

Haven’t we heard this story before? Remember Sarah and Abraham. Rachel and Jacob. Remember Ruth and her sister-in-law. And now, Elizabeth and Zechariah. Barren. Without child.

So, when Zechariah entered the sanctuary that day to make the offering, when he both saw and heard the Angel Gabriel announce that he and Elizabeth were going to have a child, it is no wonder that Zechariah questioned this. After all, it was against all the odds that they, at their advanced ages, could ever expect to conceive and have a child. After all this time, it is likely they had finally come to a place of acceptance. However painful that place might have been for them.

But, isn’t that often where God meets us. In those places of pain. Or deep disappointment. Where we’ve finally come to accept that things are the way they are. Not expecting anything to change. And, yet, God brings a change anyway. An unexpected Word. A Word of hope. That our past is not our future. 

How do we respond when that word of promise - that word against the odds - is so different than what we’ve expected or experienced. Do we, like Zechariah, question it? Do we think it’s a false promise? Or do we meet it with faith? With trust that the Word of God is true?

The word of hope given to Zechariah that day in the temple was no false Word. Soon, Elizabeth would conceive. And, then, 9 months later would give birth to a son. John. John, who would be the herald of the coming Messiah and of the in-breaking reign of God into our world. 

This story in Luke is placed in the much larger story of faith. A story that began when God called Abraham and Sarah to leave their homeland. To go to a place that God would show them - a place where God promised them also, a son, and as many descendants as the stars in the sky. By Zechariah’s time, Israel has been through wars, and captivity, exile and domination by foreign rulers. By Luke’s time, the Jewish people were living under Roman domination. But, isn’t this the entire story of God’s covenant with Israel - a covenant that begins with a promise to Abraham and Sarah that is against all odds? And a covenant that comes to fulfillment in this story in Luke - a story that also begins with a promise and a birth that is against all odds?

There may be times in our lives and in our life together as God’s people when problems mount. When it is difficult to see a way forward. When it seems as though all hope for the future has been lost. When we are at a dead end. 

But it is here, in this Word of promise, where we encounter and are encountered by a God for whom there are no dead ends. Where we experience a God who specializes in making a way in the wilderness. And who opens up our future when one doesn’t seem possible. Where we encounter a God for whom nothing is against the odds. Where we encounter a God who speaks these similar words of encouragement: You were born to be a beloved child of God! You were meant to be here! This moment is yours! 

For this we rejoice! And with Zechariah, join his song of God - our God of hope and promise: 

Because of our God’s deep compassion,

the dawn from heaven will break upon us,

to give light to those who are sitting in darkness

and in the shadow of death,

to guide us on the path of peace.

Amen.

Preached Sunday, December 22, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Advent 4
Readings: Luke 1:5-25, 57-80; Psalm 113

God's Greatest Promise: A Different Kind of King

When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, just say this, ‘The Lord needs them.’ And he will send them immediately.” This took place to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet, saying,

“Tell the daughter of Zion,
Look, your king is coming to you,
    humble, and mounted on a donkey,
        and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”

The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them. A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting,

“Hosanna to the Son of David!
    Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!
Hosanna in the highest heaven!”

When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, “Who is this?” The crowds were saying, “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.”

Then Jesus entered the temple and drove out all who were selling and buying in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves. He said to them, “It is written,

‘My house shall be called a house of prayer’;
    but you are making it a den of robbers.”

The blind and the lame came to him in the temple, and he cured them. But when the chief priests and the scribes saw the amazing things that he did, and heard the children crying out in the temple, “Hosanna to the Son of David,” they became angry and said to him, “Do you hear what these are saying?” Jesus said to them, “Yes; have you never read,

‘Out of the mouths of infants and nursing babies
    you have prepared praise for yourself’?”

He left them, went out of the city to Bethany, and spent the night there. Matthew 21:1-17 (NRSV)

Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven! Amen.

In their book The Last Week, Marcus Borg and Dominic Crossan write that there were two processions that entered Jerusalem on the spring day in the year 30. It was the beginning of the week of Passover. The most sacred week of the Jewish year. In the centuries since that time, Christians have celebrated this day as Palm Sunday, the first day of Holy Week. The first day of the last week of Jesus’ life. The most sacred week of the Christian year.

One of those two processions was a peasant procession. From the east - from the Mount of Olives - came Jesus. No longer walking, but riding. [If you read the text carefully in Matthew, it sounds as if Jesus was some kind of trick rider. I have a cousin who, before she was married and had children, was a trick rider. The ultimate trick, one which she was never able to accomplish, was to be able to ride two horses at the same time. Standing, with one foot on each.] In Matthew, we read that Jesus rode two donkeys. At the same time. Now, this likely didn’t happen in quite this way. But, as we’ve seen before, it is important for Matthew to help his readers understand that this Jesus was the complete fulfillment of the promised Messiah in Hebrew scripture. Particularly in the prophet Zechariah. “Look, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”

This Jesus was from the peasant village of Nazareth. His message was about the kingdom of God. And his followers came from the peasant class. Throughout the gospel, Jesus has proclaimed the in-breaking reign of heaven. It has now fully arrived on that day in Jerusalem.

On the opposite side of the city, from the west, a second procession - an imperial procession - entered Jerusalem. It is led by Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor, at the head of a column of imperial cavalry and soldiers. They were not riding donkeys, but horses. In ancient times, horses were instruments of war. They were not used for agriculture or transportation. But to wage war. Or, in Pilate’s case, as a visible display of his power. Or, more specifically, a display of Roman power. 

Imperial processions like this were well-known in Palestine in the first century. It was the standard practice for the Roman governor to be in Jerusalem for major Jewish festivals. They didn’t do this out of reverence for the religious devotion of their Jewish subjects. But to be in the city in case there was trouble. In case there was an uprising. A rebellion.  And at Passover - the festival that celebrated the liberation of the Jews from another earlier empire - there often was trouble. 

Pilate’s procession displayed not only imperial power, but also Roman imperial theology. The Romans believed that the emperor was not simply the ruler of Rome, but the Son of God. So, Pilate’s procession was not only a rival social order, it was also a rival belief system. 

Can you already sense the coming conflict? 

The rest of the Zechariah passage describes what kind of king the Messiah - the other Son of God - would be. “He will cut off the chariot from Ephraim and the war-horse from Jerusalem; and a battle bow shall be cut off, and he shall command peace to the nations.” This coming king, riding a donkey, will banish war from the land. This coming king, riding a donkey, will be a king of peace. The first part of today’s story is this symbolic act. Jesus. Son of God. Coming to Jerusalem as a direct challenge to Rome.

The confrontation between these two kingdoms, between these two Sons of God, will continue through the last week of Jesus’ life. As we know, it will end with the execution of Jesus by the powers who ruled his world. Holy Week is the story of this confrontation. But, before we go further, we must first set the stage. And so, we come to Act 2 of our story today. And to Jesus’ second symbolic act on that first Palm Sunday.

We know that Jerusalem was the heart of Israel’s religion. It was also to be the ruling seat of the Messiah. The new King David would rule a restored kingdom from Jerusalem. So, Jerusalem was connected to Israel’s hope. Central to that hope was the temple. 

When it was first built by King Solomon, it became the sacred center of the Jewish world. It was called the “navel of the earth,” finding its source in God. Here, and only here, was God’s dwelling place on earth. To be in the temple was to be in God’s presence.

The temple was was also the source of God’s forgiveness. It was the only place of sacrifice. And for Israel, sacrifice was the means of forgiveness. It was only through sacrifice in the temple that certain sins could be forgiven and certain kinds of impurities could be cleansed. The temple was the place of mediation between God and God’s people. So, to stand in the temple, purified and forgiven, was to stand fully in the presence of God. So, it was the center of Israel’s religion and the destination of pilgrimage. Three times a year, the Jews would come from distant lands. We call these Jews the diaspora. After the exile and after Israel had been restored to their homeland, these Jews had chosen to remain in their countries of exile. Yet, they would still travel to Jerusalem. Three times a year. To go to the temple to offer sacrifice and receive forgiveness. 

Jerusalem, although the center of Jewish hope, was also a place with very negative associations. Beginning with King Solomon, it had become the center of a system of domination. This phrase, “domination system” is used by Borg and Crossan to describe the most common way of organizing a society in ancient and premodern times. It was a system that allowed the political and economic domination of the many by a few. A system that allowed those with wealth and power to use it to exploit others and to accumulate more wealth and power. And to use religion to justify it.

Under Solomon, power and wealth were increasingly concentrated in Jerusalem. This system of domination had continued in Jerusalem even under Roman rule. The high priest and the authorities were, in effect, the rulers of the Jewish people, although they owed allegiance to their Roman overlords. They were wealthy, from the local aristocracy. And, as long as they were loyal to Rome and maintained order, they were given a relatively free hand in ruling their people. So, by Jesus’ time, the temple was not only the center of sacrifice and hope for the Jewish people, but it had also become the center of the system of domination.

This is the Jerusalem that Jesus entered on that first Palm Sunday. His message was deeply critical of the temple and its role in the domination system. From his early ministry and that of John the Baptist, both had pronounced forgiveness  apart from temple sacrifice. They had pronounced this forgiveness primarily to peasants. The hungry. The thirsty. The stranger. The naked. The sick. The imprisoned. Those not in power. 

So, when Jesus, in his second symbolic act that day, entered the temple and overturned the tables, he was not protesting the commerce happening in the temple. This commerce was necessary, because people traveling from far away needed animals for sacrifice. They needed to exchange their foreign coins into silver shekels to pay the temple tax. Jesus was not protesting this, but against the system of domination that was being legitimized in the temple by using God’s name. A system that was radically different from what the present and coming kingdom of God - the dream of God - was to be. A kingdom where Jesus, as the true Son of God, would be its king. Where Jesus, as the true Son of Man, would be a different kind of king. A humble king. A healing king.

Two processions entered Jerusalem on that Palm Sunday. The same question, the same alternative, faces those of us who would be faithful to Jesus today, just as it did the people of Jesus’ day. Which procession are we in? We, who have been given this gift of life in Christ in baptism - which procession are we in? We, who called to live lives transformed - lives worthy of that gracious gift of life that Jesus has given each of us. Which procession are we in? Are we choosing to follow the king of dominations systems, systems that continue in our world today? Or are we choosing to following the king called Jesus? The king who sides with the poor. With the weak. With those rejected by the world. Those with no power. 

We - who know the rest of the story - are we choosing to follow the king called Jesus? This Jesus, who is a different kind of king? 

This, for us, is the question of Palm Sunday and of the week that is about to unfold. 

Which procession will you be in? 

Preached April 14, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Palm Sunday
Readings: Matthew 21:1-17, Psalm 118:25-29