Sunday 6 December 2009, Second Sunday of Advent

‘Blessed be the Lord God of Israel: for he hath visited and redeemed his people’

Generations of praying Christians have begun the day to the words of the Benedictus. They are immediately reminiscent of morning sunlight playing upon Gothic arches, of Choral Mattins at eleven o’clock, and of sherry before lunch.

Yet is the Benedictus an appropriate text for Christian prayer? Our familiarity with the words, and the beauty of the music to which they are set has stopped up our ears to its irony and to its authentic character as a song lamenting an opportunity missed, a dream shattered, and a moment wasted for ever.

The Benedictus is the spontaneous response of Zechariah to the birth of his son John, who will become the Baptist. In his birth, and in the imminent birth of John’s kinsman Jesus, Zechariah discerns the mighty hand of God, triumphantly fulfilling the promises faithfully spoken by the prophets since the dawn of time. In these two births Zechariah perceives God’s threefold action.

Zechariah the elderly Jew perceives God acting to free his chosen people. The song makes two references to Israel’s enemies and one to those that hate Israel. Zechariah looks back upon the long history of his people’s oppression at than hands of the Assyrians, the Babylonians, the Seleucids and the Romans. He looks back to the covenant made with Abraham. And he looks forward to Israel’s deliverance and salvation

Zechariah the priest of the Temple perceives God acting to restore Israel’s worship. Deliverance from her enemies means that Israel will be free to serve her God without fear, ‘serve’ here having a particular cultic resonance. Zechariah looks back on his people’s constant longing to live securely in their land, serving faithfully the God who has given it to them. And he looks forward to that longing’s imminent satisfaction.

Zechariah the restored penitent perceives God acting to forgive his people. When the angel tells Zechariah that his wife is to bear him a son he cannot believe it. Because of his unbelief he is struck dumb and his speech is only restored when in faithfulness to the angel’s message he names his son John. Zechariah looks back upon the long history of Israel’s doubts, betrayals and apostasies. And he looks forward to a new era of fidelity in which God’s forgiveness will descend everlastingly upon his people.

Yet within decades of the song’s utterance and within decades of the crucifixion the Judaea known to Zechariah, to John the Baptist and to Jesus of Nazareth had changed beyond recognition and had changed for ever. In the year 70 of the Common Era Roman forces overcame Jerusalem. They razed it to the ground and burned the Temple. Never again was the City of David the national capital of the people of David. Never again was sacrifice offered on the Temple mount. The consequences were incalculable.

And it was amidst these consequences and in this context that Luke wrote his Gospel. Among the material that is unique to Luke are the three canticles of the first two chapters, Mary’s Magnificat, Simeon’s Nunc Dimittis, and Zechariah’s Benedictus. When Luke’s audience first heard Zechariah’s words they must have grimaced. They knew that God’s people had not been freed – that the enemies of God’s people had triumphed. They knew that God’s worship had not been restored – that the Temple was a smoking ruin. They knew that God’s forgiveness had not descended – that the covenant sealed by the gift of the land had been rent asunder. They must have heard Zechariah’s words as irony. The dayspring from on high had visited God’s people, and God’s people had nailed the dayspring to a cross. Zechariah’s song laments an opportunity missed, a dream shattered, and a moment wasted for ever.

So how can we pray this lament?

In doing so we take the three promises that Zechariah discerned and make them our own. Yet we are not besieged by Rome; we are not alienated from the Temple; we have not seen our covenant with our God turn to dust and ashes.

The Benedictus, rooted as it is in the reality of Israel’s national tragedy, compels us to acknowledge that Scripture is always a distant land. It recalls us to the discipline of Biblical study. Zechariah’s words come down to us not Tardis-like, heat-sealed and shrink-wrapped, secure against the vagaries of time and circumstance. They come down to us as the product of a far-off age, an age that we cannot hope to recapture. When we read Zechariah’s words we must consider that distance; we must consider the wisdom of the church; and we must pray that the Holy Spirit will speak, and bring these ancient words to life.

When we do so we may discover that our enemies are more likely to have subtle advertising strategies than all-conquering siege-engines. Our enemies play upon our fear and our vanity, upon our insecurity and our pride. Our return to worship is more likely to involve our internal disposition rather than our physical presence in a sacred space. We are here, after all, but our day to day lived experience may not be the day to day lived experience of men and women set free to serve God without fear. And our forgiveness, or our acceptance of our forgiveness, will only be visible and plausible when we are ready to forgive others as generously as we know ourselves to have been forgiven.

Free, worshipping, forgiven: three adjectives for Zechariah’s descendants, three adjectives for the Advent people of God who look for their Lord’s return.

Maranatha! Come, Lord Jesus. Amen.