T
o say that all were surprised is to understate the case. They were dumfounded and frightened. Zechariah’s shout had forced the issue of the tangible presence of God. And to Jews who were not permitted so much as to speak or write his name, this was a fearsome thing.
How does one speak or write of such things? Not even the Scriptures can adequately explain the awful fear that came upon the prophets of Baal when alas, the fire fell. Who can describe the terrible angst of the Egyptians as they furiously drove through towering walls of water in futile pursuit of the Hebrews? Or the thoughts of king Saul when a solitary stone from a boy’s sling struck down the giant? When the miraculous unfolds, the unfamiliar and unexpected, fear is rational.
Yet, an elderly woman giving birth to an infant, or an old man’s speech after more than nine months of muteness; these things are hardly on the magnitude of parting the Red Sea. Was it because these friends, these well wishers, these celebrants had never in their lifetimes seen such things? Here we chronicle angelic visitations and the impregnation of old women and virgins, and speech withheld and speech released in paeans of praise. Or are these things mere tremors of the earthshaking to come? Perhaps rather, it was a question which provoked fear, What do these things mean?
