Today’s Scripture Readings

Gospel Reading

NRSV

— 5 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 favourably on me and took away the disgrace I have endured among my people.’

Luke begins the infancy narratives in the silence of the temple. A priest named Zechariah, offers incense as prayers rise with the smoke. He is a man of faith and obedience, and yet, when the angel Gabriel appears and promises the impossible, Zechariah cannot help but ask: “How will I know that this is so?” (Luke 1:18).

It is not anger or rebellion that prompts his question but the fragile reality of our human faith: “I am an old man, and my wife is getting on in years.” (Luke 1:18). It’s the honest voice of someone who has waited a long time for an answer to prayer, someone who knows disappointment, who has learned to protect his heart from hope that hurts.

But the angel’s response is unexpected, and Zechariah is struck mute. God silences him so that he might listen more deeply—not to the noise of doubt but to the quiet assurance that God is at work, even when he does not understand.

Karl Rahner, a Jesuit theologian, once asked, “Have you ever kept silent?” Silence, for Rahner, is not emptiness; it is sacred space, a place where words fall away and God’s presence can be felt, not grasped. In this silence, Zechariah is not abandoned. He is being readied for awe, transformation, and praise.

In a world obsessed with busyness and noise, Zechariah’s story speaks to our own moments of doubt. How often do we, too, ask: “How will I know?” How often do we demand signs or evidence before we trust that God is moving in hidden ways?

Faith is rarely loud. Often, it begins in shadows and silence. It is the slow turning of the heart toward mystery. And sometimes, before God speaks through us, God invites us first to be still.

Zechariah’s silence becomes a holy preparation. And when his voice returns, it returns in praise.