Faithful Paradox

I recently began reading the Gospel of Luke. I often read it as we prepare to step into the Advent season. If I’m honest though, I’m also reading it because I’m in a season right now where I need to be reminded once again of who Jesus truly is.

I recently had a friend tell me that I am in a season of rebuilding my faith muscles. Between decades of clinical anxiety disorder and two children with catastrophic health events which left one developmentally disabled and the other in the arms of Jesus, my faith muscles to trust the Lord feel weakened in some areas. Despite knowing that God has answered so many prayers with “yes”, I have had some deeply disappointing and devastating “no’s” from God that, in many ways, feel like they have caused my faith muscles to atrophy.

Despite the deterioration that has occurred, God has been faithful to hold me. I have no doubt that my soul is secure and that God has held me through it all. He has remained faithful, as he promised. There are still pieces of belief that feel easier for me; trusting in God’s sovereignty, belief that Christ is the only way to the Father, confidence that God will keep his promises – all these things remain foundational within my heart.

There are other pieces of faith, however, that feel weak; almost frail. Things like the anticipation of God moving on my behalf or praying with expectation feel hard right now. I can believe that God will do all he has promised when it comes to eternity and salvation. Despite knowing that God has shown me all the kindness I will ever need when he called me his own, flexing my faith muscles to believe that he will act tenderly towards me and show me favor? That still feels hard sometimes. Suffering and disappointment can create a guarded heart, even when you believe your Savior is good. It’s hard sometimes to hope beyond the foundational pieces of faith.

I’m grateful when I’m confronted with my own weaknesses and shortcomings in faith to know that God, in his kindness, gives us examples of similar people within his word. He has given us pictures, not of people who had it all figured out, but rather pictures of people who seem to be relatable in our struggles.

I have always found it fascinating in Luke 1 that both Zechariah and Mary seemed to respond similarly to Gabriel when he announced that God had a surprise for each of them. They both responded with a question to the angel: “How can I know this?” or “How will this be?” (Luke 1:18, 35).

Although their responses seem very similar, Zechariah was given 9 months of being unable to speak to consider his response to God’s proclamation to him. I can’t help but wonder if the difference in response between Zechariah and Mary, although similar in word, exposed Zechariah’s heart and trust in God?

Zechariah was “advanced in years… righteous before God, walking blamelessly in all the commandments and statutes of the Lord” (Luke 1:7, 6). He was both righteous and also seems to have experienced much sorrow in his life. His wife was barren, which in his time was a source of shame and misfortune. He served as a priest in the temple during the 400 years of silence from the Lord. Never had he heard the Lord speak. Never had a prophet prophesied in his time. Never had he seen the Lord act in a mighty way. Never had he seen the Lord deliver his people. Sure, he had heard of all these things, but his eyes had not seen nor experienced them. Despite his faith not yet being sight, he served faithfully as a priest performing the rituals year after year.

I think I feel drawn to Zechariah because as I speculate about his life, I think he may have been one who worked out his faith in obedience to the Lord, but because of life’s sorrows, because of being advanced in years and familiar with the grief and bitterness that can come with life, he was also one whose faith muscles seem like they may have been weakened. I can’t help but wonder if his ability to joyfully anticipate what the Lord might do had atrophied? I wonder if his ability to hope in God’s kindness – not only for his nation, but also for himself – felt difficult or maybe beyond the scope of faith he could hold? He knew God would cause him to endure. He believed God demanded his faithfulness and he served faithfully in the temple year after year. But hope that God would hear his long-hoped-for prayers when it seemed that the window of answering was clearly closed with a hard, resounding, “No”? That seemed like more than he could anticipate.

When the angel came to announce that God was on the move, it seems he struggled to believe it; at least deeply in his heart. It seems he was shocked to know that God was responding to his situation; to his prayers. He had faithfully served in obedience for his entire life, but hopeful anticipation of what God might do, despite great faith in his promises? That seemed hard for him to believe.

I’m grateful for the story of Zechariah because in many ways, I feel that right now, my heart might be much like his. I trust God for his promises and yet I also feel that my faith muscles in certain areas have atrophied. I’m in a season of rebuilding, training my faith muscles to hope beyond what feels easy. It’s a season of learning to trust God again after my heart has endured such bitter disappointment and loss.

I’m grateful that God gave us the story of Zechariah. I’m grateful God did not rely on Zechariah’s faith in order to move. God’s plan was such that he moved despite Zechariah’s faith, not because of it. I’m grateful that God gives us examples in his word of men who were faithful to serve the Lord, yet their faith still had gaps and holes. I’m thankful to see God’s grace and kindness towards Zechariah as it seemed, like me, his faith muscles may have also been weak and, in God’s kindness, he gave Zechariah both the grace and opportunity to rebuild those muscles once again. I think God will do the same for me. It’s simply who God is.