In the time of Herod king of Judea there was a priest named Zechariah, who belonged to the priestly division of Abijah; his wife Elizabeth was also a descendant of Aaron. Both of them were righteous in the sight of God, observing all the Lord’s commands and decrees blamelessly.
But they were childless because Elizabeth was not able to conceive, and they were both very old.
Once when Zechariah’s division was on duty and he was serving as priest before God, he was chosen by lot, according to the custom of the priesthood, to go into the temple of the Lord and burn incense. And when the time for the burning of incense came, all the assembled worshipers were praying outside.
Then an angel of the Lord appeared to him, standing at the right side of the altar of incense.
When Zechariah saw him, he was startled and was gripped with fear. But the angel said to him: “Do not be afraid, Zechariah; your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you are to call him John.
He will be a joy and delight to you, and many will rejoice because of his birth, for he will be great in the sight of the Lord. He is never to take wine or other fermented drink, and he will be filled with the Holy Spirit even before he is born.
He will bring back many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God. And he will go on before the Lord, in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the parents to their children and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous—to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.”
Luke 1:5-18
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Maybe the single greatest, most motivational passage we can ever read while going through a time of silence is God’s voice breaking through in the story of Zechariah in Luke 1. This moment is profound not just because an angel appears announcing the birth of John the Baptist, but because of the lengthy silence that came before it.
The Old Testament ends with these words (Malachi 4:5-6): “See, I will send the prophet Elijah to you before that great and dreadful day of the Lord comes. He will turn the hearts of the parents to their children, and the hearts of the children to their parents.”
After that promise and that verse, there were 400 years of silence in Israel! No prophets. No angels. No new revelations from God. Just silence.
And then, in Luke 1, the silence breaks. An angel appears to Zechariah and repeats the exact phrasing from Malachi that ends the Old Testament: “He will go on before the Lord, in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the parents to their children.”
Imagine the joy! The very promise that ended the Old Testament is being fulfilled! God had not been absent. He had been working all along, and now His voice was breaking through the silence.
Imagine how Zechariah must have felt. He and Elizabeth had been waiting, praying, and serving God faithfully, even while they carried the pain of unanswered prayers for a child. And yet, they didn’t walk away. They remained faithful through the silence.
Sometimes, our lives feel like those 400 years of silence. We pray, we seek, we wait—but we hear nothing. We wonder if God is still listening. We wonder if He is still at work. But just as with Zechariah, God’s silence doesn’t mean He is absent. He is still moving, still working behind the scenes, preparing something beautiful in His perfect timing.
What should we do when we face silence in our spiritual lives?
We keep serving. We keep praying. We keep trusting. Like Zechariah and Elizabeth, we remain faithful. And when the time is just right, God’s voice will break through. He will speak into our lives, and He will reveal our role in His great plan. The harvest will come. The silence will end. And the promise will be fulfilled.
This Christmas season, if you find yourself in a season of silence, don’t lose hope. God is still working. The birth of His Son stands as proof. So stay faithful, stay strong, and keep listening.
Prayer
Heavenly Father, thank You for reminding me that silence does not mean You are absent. Help me to stay faithful and keep listening for Your voice, even when it feels far away. Amen.