Friday, December 6, 2024 | Trey Comstock
Zechariah’s song to his son, John, in Luke 1 rests on two weighty Old Testament promises. Abraham and King David each got their own version of a covenant with God. For Abraham, God promised to create and dwell with a people. It gets laid out in various ways across the middle chapters of Genesis, but it consistently boils down to that Abraham will serve as progenitor of God’s people.
When Abram was ninety-nine years old, the Lord appeared to Abram, and said to him, ‘I am God Almighty; walk before me, and be blameless. And I will make my covenant between me and you, and will make you exceedingly numerous.’ Then Abram fell on his face; and God said to him, ‘As for me, this is my covenant with you: You shall be the ancestor of a multitude of nations. No longer shall your name be Abram, but your name shall be Abraham; for I have made you the ancestor of a multitude of nations. I will make you exceedingly fruitful; and I will make nations of you, and kings shall come from you. I will establish my covenant between me and you, and your offspring after you throughout their generations, for an everlasting covenant, to be God to you and to your offspring after you. And I will give to you, and to your offspring after you, the land where you are now an alien, all the land of Canaan, for a perpetual holding; and I will be their God.’ (Genesis 17:1-8 NRSV)
Abraham produces a great nation, and God will provide for them and will have a special relationship with them. This takes the form of a land and God’s presence – being their God.
For King David, his covenant centers on who will rule God’s people. In 1 Samuel, God’s people cry out for a king, and despite God’s dislike of the concept, God grants their request. King Saul proved a less than godly king, so the anointing passes from Saul to David – a king after God’s own heart. In making that shift, God gives a promise to David.
But I will not take my steadfast love from him, as I took it from Saul, whom I put away from before you. Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure for ever before me; your throne shall be established for ever. In accordance with all these words and with all this vision, Nathan spoke to David. (2 Samuel 7:15-17 NRSV)
This covenant gets relayed to David via the Prophet Nathan in the midst of God dismissing David’s plan to construct the Temple. God indicates that David’s son, who we know to be Solomon, will build God’s house, and this will sit as part of God’s never-ending relationship with David’s house.
Over the centuries, these covenants institutionalized into four things – the nation of Israel (later the nations of Israel and Judah), the Temple, the Prophet, and the King (always a descendant of David). God’s people get back to the promised land from Egypt with Joshua, and from then, until David’s military campaigns, they fought to establish themselves firmly in the space God carved out for them. The Temple began its life as the tent of meeting during the Exodus. It came to serve as God’s literal seat on Earth. Part of God physically dwelled within the Holy of Holies. From Moses, to Joshua, to the Judges, and onto the Prophets, someone consistently filled the role of God’s voice box. Until the Exile, Israel and its successor nation, Judah, had king from the House of David – for good or for ill.
This state of play shifted and eroded over time. With the Exile, the people lost access to the land. The Babylonians knocked over the Temple, and no Davidic king ruled God’s people. God’s presence never left them, but the various prophets carried a larger share of that torch. Eventually, the people returned to the land and rebuilt the Temple under Nehemiah and Ezra. So, at the close of the Old Testament narrative, all the signs of presence are back in place – land, Temple, and Prophet – but not the king. Notably, at some point between the close out of the Old Testament and the birth of Jesus 400 year later, the office of official voice box of God prophet appears to fade as well. Around 70 years after Zechariah sings, the Romans will knock over the Temple again, and the bulk of the Jewish population will slowly drift out of the Holy Land and into the diaspora. Resting these Godly pillars on human intuitions and fallible individuals creates a clear point of vulnerability. One can lose earthly kingdoms to even larger bullies. Human kings get led astray. Temples of stone can topple. People can more easily ignore a singular voice.
Zechariah’s promise renews the covenant that appeared to fade with passing eons. The promise to David and the promise to Abraham feature strongly, as does the renewing of the office of the prophet. Zechariah’s son will take on that mantle as the herald of Christ, but in giving the proclamation, Zechariah, himself, switches from his more priestly existence to that of proclaimer of God’s word (as Mary does earlier in the chapter). God’s presence, a Davidic king, and easy access to God’s word spring back to the forefront in this dawning new age.
They will work in more prolific and resilient ways. This time, the king from the House of David won’t just be a man, but God’s only begotten son, the divine Logos, Emmanuel, God with us. Where his solely human predecessors failed, a fully human and fully divine Christ never will. With the arrival the Holy Spirit, God’s presence extends across the earth. Any human heart can stand as a Temple of God. Any loving embrace becomes its own Holy of Holies. Also, any person turning their ear towards God transforms into God’s prophetic voice box. Thus, Zechariah, Mary, and John the Baptist proclaim something far grander than a covenant renewal but a permanent and unshakeable fulfillment of God’s Kingdom.