Can’t Keep Quiet

John-the-Baptist’s Birth - Luke 1:57-80

Audio Introduction to this Week’s Post.

Photo compliments of Tim Bish.

Three’s not a crowd

Our first child was born amid a swarm of warriors. When the hard-hewn soldiers eventually departed and the doctor put “Clay” in my arms, peace finally descended on the delivery room and on me.

Forty-seven years ago, Kay gave birth to Clay, our oldest son, at Martin Army Hospital at Ft. Benning, GA (now Ft. Moore). Just barely in our twenties, Kay and I were clueless about birthing babies and the colossal changes this tiny child would bring to us. Our uncertainty and fears rose as her sixteen hours of labor wore on. In those days, the obstetrics ward at Martin Army was awash with new births. 3,333,279 live births were recorded in the U.S. in 1978, and it felt like a third of them occurred at Ft. Benning. Kay was put in a WWII vintage metal bed and rolled into a closet-sized holding room. I tagged along like a bewildered puppy.

I had missed most of Kay’s pregnancy, because during that time, I completed Officer Candidate School, Airborne, and the Infantry Officer Basic Course. For much of those nine months, I was only allowed to see Kay for an hour on Sunday afternoons, and each week she grew bigger and bigger. I couldn’t fathom how she continued to serve as a cardiac nurse in a hospital Intensive Care Unit — but that’s Kay for you.

When I moved back into our home in Columbus, GA, Kay was a week beyond her expected delivery date. As our excitement grew, so did our anxiety. We raced to the hospital one evening, only to be told Kay was in false labor. “Go home and walk,” the doctor advised. So, Kay and I repeatedly walked all around our neighborhood, garnering sympathetic glances from every older woman we encountered. Finally, real labor ensued, and Kay and I returned to Martin Army. Placed in that tiny room, I rested my head on the metal sidebar of the bed and slept. Kay remained awake for all sixteen hours of labor, which goes to show that men are often AWOL throughout some of the toughest slogs of family life!

When the nurse determined Kay’s cervix was sufficiently dilated, the doctor, a captain, came in for a short consultation before moving us to the delivery room. I ventured to ask, “May I see our child born?”

“Did you attend the pre-natal classes?”

“No sir, I was in training.”

He rubbed his hand over the two-day growth of whiskers on his chin before responding, “Okay, lieutenant. Put on these scrubs, mask up, don’t get in the way, and keep quiet.” He tossed the aqua colored scrubs to me as he exited. Once outfitted, I followed Kay’s gurney at a distance as she was wheeled into the brightly lit delivery room. The captain obstetrician, now masked and sitting on a stool, looked down at Kay and off-handedly said, “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve invited a Special Forces team to witness the birth in case they have to perform emergency deliveries in the field.” With that, twelve scrub-clad soldiers marched in and huddled around the doctor, nurse, and my wife. I was relegated to the outer circle of observers, as if my wife and child were military equipment set up for training purposes.

No matter, from that moment, as most any dad will tell you, things that had moved interminably slow now raced to a conclusion. Clay was born, the Special Forces dozen made quick notes, said nothing, and departed. The doctor checked Clay over from stem to stern. Satisfied, he wrapped him up in a thin blanket and handed him to me. “Lieutenant, would you like to hold your son?” I took Clay in my arms, his head cone-shaped, and still marked with splotches of bloody mucus from the delivery. Settling in a plastic chair against the wall, I looked at his little head, watched his tiny chest rise and fall, and sobbed. The doctor and the nurse did not notice my tears because they had turned their attention to Kay.

The love for this child and his mother overwhelmed me. I held Clay next to my chest, looked at his little splotchy, sleeping face, and perfect peace descended on me. Had my capacity to love suddenly expanded all the boundaries I had previously known? Was their no limit to God’s blessings? In the months to come, I would prove to be the nuttiest of fathers. When people visited, I would insist upon stripping off Clay’s onesie and diaper and hold him out chest-high in front of me. “Look how fine he is. Look what God has done with Kay and me.” Understandably, many of our friends and family members thought I was “over-the-top.” I was over-the-top with joy an a immeasurable sense of God’s blessing, and I wanted everyone to know it and see it. I could not keep quiet.

Benedictus

Zechariah can’t keep quiet either. Once his son is born and his divinely enforced muteness is lifted, he bursts out in an animated song of praise and blessing (1:18-20; 1:62-64). Zechariah’s Song, the Benedictus, like Marys’ Song, the Magnificat, as well as Simeon’s Song, the Nunc Dimittis, which follows in chapter 2, were all prominent hymns in 1st century house churches. They have been mainstays of worship in a variety of tunes over the entire history of the Christian faith. The Benedictus, like the other two songs, is so named for the first Latin word of the lyrics. Benedictus is derived from the Latin verb benedicere, which means "to bless" or "to commend.” Zechariah rapturously blesses God for the miraculous gift of John and the promise that he will be the Lord’s instrument to bring Israel back to faith and to heal families (1:15-17). He is so overwhelmed that he can no longer restrain the song within him:

‘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.’ Luke 1:68-79

The locus of Zechariah’s rapture proceeds from the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is God’s animating force throughout all of Luke’s Gospel. For instance, during the time that Zechariah was voiceless, his wife Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit and prophesied about her cousin Mary and her baby (1:41). And earlier, Mary is impregnated when overshadowed by the Holy Spirit (1:35). Now Zechariah is filled with the Holy Spirit and begins to prophesy about his son, who also will be filled with the Holy Spirit from birth and whose entire life will be Spirit directed (1:67; 1:15). John’s witness to Israel will be spiritually electrifying — much like his predecessor and role model Elijah (1:17). More importantly, the Spirit’s presence in John means that he will be completely God-directed. As a man, he will be an oddity, a wild-man, a troublemaker, yet all his eccentricities develop under the influence of God through the Holy Spirit.

Not only does Zechariah prophesy that John will be Spirit-led, he also sees his son along with his second cousin Jesus as fulfilling the ancient covenants God made with David, Israel’s greatest king, and Abraham, Israel’s principal patriarch. ‘He has raised up a mighty Savior for us in the house of his servant David,’ says Zechariah, connecting his song to David, who half naked and exuberant, “danced” the ark of the covenant into Jerusalem (1:69). Shortly after his buoyant display, God promised David that He would ‘establish his house forever and give Israel a land where they will be disturbed no more’ (2 Samuel 7:10, 13). Jesus, by virtue of Joseph, is part of David’s family and is born in David’s city, Bethlehem. Those who believe in Jesus, the Son, whether they are Jews or not, will be grafted into the covenantal promise given to Israel through David. They will be made a royal people and part of God’s eternal household.

Zechariah’s song further resounds with Old Testament promises that the birth of John is a sign that ‘God has remembered the holy covenant that He made with Abraham,’ a covenant secured well over a 1,000 years before David (1:73). Abraham’s and Sarah’s ancient story begins when they are called out of obscurity in present day Iraq to make the long journey to Canaan, God’s Promised Land. Because they are obedient to ‘go from their country and their family… God promises to bless them and make them a blessing to all the families on earth’ (Genesis 12:1-4). Note how the Abrahamic covenant is recast in John when he becomes a man. He stirs the hearts of so many with his preaching that multitudes will leave their homes in Jerusalem, the rural parts of Judea, and Galilee to be baptized by him (Matthew 3:5). Second, note that John’s foundational message is that people must repent, meaning that they must “turn around” and go in a new direction. Much like God’s call to Abraham, John preaches that people must leave their old ways and their comfortable lives to undertake a new undisclosed adventure with God.

John writing, “His name will be John.” Artist, Jacobo Pontormo, 1526.

Free to worship

The most striking part of the Benedictus is the promise that the people will be ‘rescued from the hands of our enemies, so they might serve Him without fear in holiness and righteousness’ (1:74-75). This rescue that Zechariah sings about hearkens to the Exodus, where Moses rescued Israel from slavery in Egypt. 1,400 years later, John and Jesus live under equally onerous powers, the repressive domination of Rome and the puppet kings Rome has set up to rule over Israel. In fact, both John and Jesus will be killed by the pitiless regime — John by Israel’s Herod and Jesus by Herod’s Roman overlords.

That being said, Zechariah’s Benedictus is about far more than political freedom; it is about spiritual freedom. In the Book of Common Prayer, where the Benedictus takes a prominent place in daily worship on weekdays, Sundays, and Holy days, verses 73-74 read, ‘This was the oath He swore to our father Abraham, to set us free from the hands of our enemies, free to worship Him without fear.’ The Prayer Book’s translation catches a central fact of the Exodus event that is rarely discussed. God wants His people freed to worship Him instead of languishing in a land where Pharaoh pretends to be a God. The first time Moses and his brother Aaron approach Pharaoh, they demand, ‘Thus says the LORD, the God of Israel, “Let my people go, that they may hold a feast for Me in the wilderness’ (Exodus 5:1). Moses approaches Pharaoh nine more times where he will insist, ‘Let my people go that they may serve me.’ The Hebrew word for serve here is `abad, which translates to “work,” “serve,” or “worship.” Zechariah, a Jewish priest, no doubt has freedom to worship foremost in his mind.

No person is truly free until they are freed from worshipping false gods. As the Exodus story progresses, the most frustrating accounts center on those Israelites, who, now liberated from the grip of Pharaoh, want to return to Egypt so that they may have their fill of familiar food and drink Numbers 14:1-4). They, like most of us from time to time, worship at the feet of material security. God, however, calls us out into the “wilderness,” away from our ephemeral securities and comforts, where we must depend on God alone for both our material and spiritual sustenance. How telling it is that Israel must spend forty years in the Sinai wilderness to connect with God and that both John and Jesus spend significant time in the desert wilderness to fix their hearts on the Father’s will (Matthew 3:1-11; Luke 3: 2-16; Matthew 4:1-11, 14: 23; Mark 1:12-13, 6:46; Luke 4:1-21, 5:16, 6:12).

Sinai Peninsula, photo compliments of Ahmad Ajimi

By retreating to the wilderness, John and Jesus reveal an undeniable challenge of our Christian life. We live in the world, but we are not of this world. Yet, if we are not careful, prayerful, and attentive to God’s word, the material world will own us both body and soul. We will find out that we are not so very different from those turn tail Israelites as we imagine. Jesus foresaw our struggle. Thus, at the conclusion of his impassioned last prayer offered shortly before he is crucified, Jesus implores God to save his disciples from shallow allegiance to the world so that they may have deeper, far more satisfying days with the Lord:

Father, I am now coming to you, and I speak these things in the world so that they may have my joy made complete in themselves. I have given them your word, and the world has hated them because they do not belong to the world, just as I do not belong to the world. I am not asking you to take them out of the world, but I ask you to protect them from the evil one. They do not belong to the world, just as I do not belong to the world. John 17:13-16

C.S. Lewis picks up on this persistent struggle that all Christians experience in his epistolary and quite humorous satirical novel, The Screwtape Letters. He describes Christians as “amphibians” in the novel, meaning we have one foot in the material world, the kingdom of man, and another in the spiritual world, the kingdom of heaven (Lewis, Screwtape, 37.). Hence, like frogs, toads, and salamanders, Christians live both on land and water, we live in two realms, as well. Smart Christians become aware through much trial and error that once we are seduced by the power and wealth of the world, we do not increase our freedom but lose it. Gods of this world expect our unquestioned fealty, just like the Pharaohs and Caesars of old. The sudden advent in this country of loyalty oaths and the images of powerful couples on crypto-currency memes are minor, but foreboding signs that hearken to darker ages. What masquerades as liberation is spiritual incarceration. Worldly offers come with the stifling hitch to trust someone or something as god, who is not and cannot be trusted with our lives. Jesus was not kidding when he made the exclusive offer, ‘If the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed’ (John 8:36).

Zechariah accentuates God’s offer of freedom to His people by connecting the ministry of his son John to the great prophet Jeremiah. ‘He (John) will go before the Lord (the incarnate Son) to prepare the way for him, to give the people knowledge of salvation through the forgiveness of their sins’ (1:76-77). Six centuries before John, God revealed His new covenant to hard-pressed Jeremiah not long before the prophet was gruesomely executed in Egypt:

This is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel, says the Lord: I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. No longer shall they teach one another, or say to each other, ‘Know the Lord’, for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, says the Lord; for I will forgive their iniquity, and remember their sin no more. Jeremiah 31: 33-34

Questions to Ponder

1. Shortly after Clay was born and I was ordered to Ft. Hood, TX (now Ft. Cavassos), Kay and I underwent a staggering spiritual awakening. We talked about “Jesus” so much and so often that some of our family members asked us to stop. At the time, I couldn’t fathom keeping quiet about this best Good News in the world we were experiencing. It was like the joy I expressed when holding our son aloft for everyone to see. “Look what God has given us!”

Can you recall a time that you, like Zechariah (or Kay and me), were so caught up in God’s Spirit that you could not think nor talk about much of anything else? Would you like to recapture that experience again? What do you do about those who wish to silence the Good News you feel compelled to share? Is it possible to be too excited about our new life in Jesus Christ?

2. Zechariah sings out that his son John will give the people knowledge of salvation…(1:77). About that, N.T. Wright offers these convicting thoughts: “To confess God is our Savior means that we will not look to some other power for salvation from the chaos we have created. Neither technology nor social progress, neither education nor legislated reforms will deliver us in and of themselves from meaningless lives, amoral secularism, and the various forms of degradation that are rampant in society. God may use any of these processes, but the basis of our trust, hope, and commitment should be clear: God is our Savior” (Wright, Interpreter’s, 56.)

Specifically name some of the “chaos we have created.” What other “saviors” have we depended upon to guide us out of the chaos into new life? Have any of these other “saviors” insisted that we, in some ways, “worship” them? What have been the predicable results of such fealty and worship? How do we escape the lure of lesser saviors and reorient ourselves to God, alone, as Savior?

Bibliography

C.S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters, New York: Harper Collins, 1942.

Patella, Michael F. New Collegeville Bible Commentary: The Gospel According to Luke. Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2002.

Wright, N.T. The New Interpreter’s Bible: The Gospel of Luke. Nashville: Abingdon, 1995.