Once when [Zechariah] 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.
We often think of Advent as a time for personal reflection and individual preparation for celebrating the birth of Jesus. Indeed, it is. But the example of Zechariah and Elizabeth in Luke’s Gospel encourages us to share with others both our sorrows and our joys. Even and especially in Advent, let us weep with those who weep and rejoice with those who rejoice.
A Jewish priest named Zechariah had been chosen by lot to burn incense in the Lord’s sanctuary in Jerusalem. When he entered the holy place, an angel of the Lord appeared to him. Zechariah was understandably terrified. But the angel sought to calm him down with words commonly repeated by unexpected angelic visitors: “Do not be afraid.”
Yet the angel’s reason why Zechariah could be unafraid was not at all common. The angel explained, “Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear a son, and you will name him John. You will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth” (Luke 1:13-14).
When we understand just how painful it had been for Zechariah and Elizabeth to be childless we feel the power of the angel’s promise. If after so many years of praying for a child, and if after so many tear-filled nights of disappointment, Elizabeth was finally to give birth to a son, then this would surely bring exceptional “joy and gladness” to Zechariah and Elizabeth.
I’m struck by the last phrase of the angel’s promise, “and many will rejoice at his birth” (Luke 1:14). Why would this be the case? Perhaps it had to do with the unusual mission that would be assigned to John, the son of Zechariah and Elizabeth, namely, to prepare the people of Israel for the coming of the Lord (Luke 1:17). Surely this would cause many to rejoice.
But a more natural reading of this passage suggests that many would rejoice at the birth of John because they would be so happy for Elizabeth and Zechariah. Their relatives and friends had no doubt shared the pain of this dear couple as they were unable to conceive and give birth to a child. Their community had prayed for them, hoped with them, and, as Zechariah and Elizbeth aged out of childbearing years, grieved with them. Having shared deeply in their sorrow, those who loved Zechariah and Elizabeth would be thrilled to learn that they would give birth to a son. They would be ready to rejoice greatly when John was born (see Luke 1:57).
As a pastor, I’ve also known couples who chose not to share the pain of their infertility. Motivated by a desire for privacy, or sometimes by shame, they have kept their pain to themselves.
Perhaps they even experienced the devastation of a miscarriage, but still chose to keep it secret, except for sharing it with their pastor. I know how hard it would have been for these couples to be more open, but I did wish they could have taken this risk. They would have experienced the comfort of shared grief, the loving embrace of sisters and brothers who would have walked with them through the valley of the shadow of death.
Romans 12:15 says, “Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.” At first glance, it seems like these two commands are polar opposites. In a way, they are, of course. But the truth is that when we rejoice with those who rejoice, we are drawn into a deeper community, which prepares us for seasons of shared sorrow. Similarly, when we weep with those who weep, we are prepared to join together in greater joy when blessings come. It seems likely to me that Zechariah and Elizabeth had done what Romans 12:15 prescribes, letting their family and friends in on their sorrow so that their community was prepared to share abundantly in their joy as well.
We often think of Advent as a time for personal reflection. Indeed, it is. We are likely to spend more time in quiet and individual prayer during Advent than in other seasons of the year, and that’s both appropriate and beneficial. But the example of Zechariah and Elizabeth encourages you not to keep Advent to yourself. Perhaps you could share with others your longings, your hopes, even your losses, and fears. Perhaps you could invite those you trust to join you in your yearning, your waiting, and your praying. And if, like Elizabeth and Zechariah, you’re entering a season of joy, then be sure to share this as well. How else can we rejoice with you as you rejoice?
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