Luke 1
As we begin this morning, I would like you to place your hands in your lap, with your palms up. Now look into those hands. Aside from a gold band that may encircle a finger or two, they are empty. Nothing there. Hollow. Vacant. Unfilled.
In the United States there are 2 million couples each year that want children and can’t get pregnant. One out of every 6 couples who want children can’t have them. Even in a church our size, that equates to 6 or 7 couples who dearly want but can’t have a child.
I know of a couple that knows the pain and emptiness of those statistics. Betty and Zach wanted children ever since they were first married. His position as a pastor didn’t pay extremely well, but enough that Betty wouldn’t have to work outside the home when the children came along. But the children never came. At first they weren’t too concerned. They had time, they were young, and besides, they had friends who weren’t able to conceive right away but over the years had gotten pregnant. “Sometimes it just takes time,” their friend would say, but month after month passed, and the months became years.
Each year had its predictable hard times. Family reunions and holidays were terrible. The aunts and uncles all talked about potty training and disciplining their children, the grandparents doting over the newest grandchild, even the squeal of delight as they watched nieces and nephews open gifts tore at their hearts like a knife.
Friends were always there with advice, doctors did what they could, remedies were always being proposed, but nothing worked.
After a while, it began to get to them. Zach began to go to his office and hope no one came to him for advice or council. They began to make excuses for missing gatherings of friends and family. The physical emptiness quickly became emotional emptiness. They went through all the stages of disappointment – denial, isolation, anger, depression and, finally, resignation. No more anger. No more depression. It had taken a long time, but Zach and Betty finally got to the point where they could accept what seemed to be their lot in life. They are no longer bitter, angry or reclusive, but there was a dream, a part of their lives together, that is empty. Now in their 60’s, Zach is approaching the final years of his ministry, and Betty is settled into a busy routine of supporting that ministry.
Such is the setting for our scripture reading today. In the book of Luke, chapter 1, we read the
continuation of the story of Zach and Betty a.k.a. Zechariah and
Elizabeth. Please join me as I read
their story from The Message.
[Read Luke 1:5-25]
It is clear that Zechariah was a spiritually sensitive person. Perhaps that sensitivity grew from his disappointment at being childless, we don’t know – but we do know that adversity makes us either bitter or better, and Zechariah is described as an “upright and righteous” man. The emptiness that they experienced had drawn them closer to God, not driven them away. I want you to notice verse 10 in particular. The Living Translation puts it this way, “10While the incense was being burned, a great crowd stood outside, praying.” That one sentence may be a pretty accurate description of Zechariah’s life. Zechariah found himself in a place of worship, close to God, but still separated from the great crowds outside.
There are other examples of this response to adversity –Joni Eareckson Tada, a young vibrant woman, who dove into a lake 1n 1967, struck her head, broke her neck, and from age 17 until today has been forced to look at hands that are not just empty, but uncontrollable. Dietrich Bohnhoffer was a German pastor and theologian who stood strong against the Nazis, even when his church leaders chose to follow Hitler. Bohnhoffer wrote his greatest work, “The Cost of Discipleship,” in the face of opposition and persecution, and eventually died for his active faith. Adversity can do that; it can make us bitter, or better.
But if Zechariah was so close to God, so sensitive, then why did he doubt the validity of God’s special touch in his life? Maybe it’s because he and Elizabeth had simply gotten into a spiritual, emotional and physical routine. You know, they had gotten so into the daily pace of their lives that they stopped expecting God to do anything substantial. And when God did step into their lives, they couldn’t believe it, and doubted the possibilities.
You know, the Bible is full of examples of God doing the impossible, and making hopeless situations a turning point in people’s lives. Abraham is another example of the same type as Betty and Zach. He received a promise from God’s messengers that he and Sarah would be parents, and Sarah overheard them and laughed out loud! They were way past the time of childbearing, she had given up hope. But God took that hopelessness and made it a time of great faith. Joseph was sold into slavery, put unfairly into prison, left there to rot for 13 years – and then God stepped in, and made it a turning point in his life, so much so that he was able to say, “What you intended for evil, God intended for good.” Were there hopeless moments there? Had to be. But God used that time of emptiness and helplessness to show His faithfulness. When the three Hebrew boys, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were going to be thrown into a blast furnace for not bowing to a foreign god, they said, “Our God is big enough to save us from the fire” – strong faith, right? But they also said, “…But if not, we will not bow…” There was a moment in that story where they knew that this might be the end – but they never lost their hope in God, and He stepped in, literally stepped into the furnace with them, and the king and the nation were shown the power and faithfulness of God.
If you study your Bible, I think you will find a thread that runs throughout it – and it is this. Most often, God can not really use us until we have been brought to that point of emptiness. Moses was on the run from Egypt, David running from king Saul, Peter was broken after denying Christ not once, but three times. In each case, it was not until being brought to the point of not being able to do anything on their own, that God was able to say, “will you now let Me touch you?”
Last week we saw that Joseph was heartbroken with the news of Mary’s pregnancy before God stepped in. We asked the question at that time, “Why didn’t God just tell Joseph when He told Mary? It would have made things so much easier!” I believe that Joseph had to be brought to the point of emptiness before there would be room for God to fill him. Zechariah has felt that emptiness for more than 50 years, so he had stopped expecting God to act. The same God, brought similar news to two men, each of whom were at a point where God could use them.
Place your hands on your laps again. Palms up, hands open, empty. Gaze into those hands. I don’t know where the emptiness of your life may be. Perhaps you don’t know the pain of infertility, maybe you do. Perhaps you feel the pain of rejection, or unfairness, or disappointment like Joseph felt with Mary. Maybe you feel the emptiness of failure like Peter after his denial of Christ.
Whatever it is, I believe that one of the lessons we can learn from the story of Betty and Zach is that God loves to surprise us when we have given up hope. He’s a master at creating the impossible. Sometimes that’s the only time we will give Him room to work.
So in these moments as we pause to come before Him, keep those hands open in your lap, and silently present that empty place to Him – that failure, that disappointment, that pain. And see if He won’t come and give you a fresh touch of His love and presence at just the right moment, in just the right way.
Father, in these quiet moments, we come before You. In each of our lives there is an emptiness, a hurt, a disappointment, a fear. Help us in these moments to surrender them all to you. To admit to You and ourselves that we can do nothing to make it go away. We need Your touch. We need to know that You will be with us through the dark, smoke-filled corners of life. We need You. Assure us of Your presence, fill us with Your peace, touch us with Your healing hand right where it hurts most. Amen.