“God Shows Up”

First Sunday in Advent

November 30, 2025

Lamentations 3:55-57

Luke 1:5-13

Children’s Message:

So, today we heard the story of Zechariah. He was a priest at the Temple. He was all alone in a very special place of the Temple offering sacrifices to God. And all of a sudden, an angel showed up and said, “Do not be afraid.” What do you think Zechariah was afraid of?

Yeah. An angel! In the Temple! Wait…that shouldn’t be that weird. Should it? That would be kind of like God showing up in church. Do you expect to see God in church? Maybe as Jesus or the Holy Spirit? Or a messenger—an angel? What would you say or do if you SAW God in church—with your very eyes? Would that feel scary?

You know, God IS in church. And in school. And at work. And at home. And everywhere. Just because we don’t see God the way we might expect doesn’t mean that God isn’t there. Maybe we just need to know what to look for. What reminds you of God’s presence?

Well, I made this angel collage to remind me of God’s presence. And I have kits on the back tables and some glue if you want to make your own. I even put some extra paper and scissors back there if you’d like to cut out your own, too. Take it home and put it someplace that reminds you that God is always with you.

Let’s pray. Dear God, it’s hard to see you in our world, especially when we are scared. Show us your love and hear our prayers, just like you did for Zechariah. Amen.

Message:

Luke grounds his story in a specific time and place—complete with social and political angst all woven into this fairly straight-forward beginning. It was in the time of Herod the Great. This would be the father of the Herod in power at the time of Jesus’ crucifixion. Herod the Great was put in place by the Roman Empire to rule the Jews. He is known for amazing buildings, such as the Hippodrome and the Second Temple. He is also known for the murders of family members.

So, the gospel begins under the reign of an Empire puppet king who was a volatile and influential ruler. And it is in this environment that we find Zechariah the priest faithfully going about his work. I imagine that, in some ways, he had fallen into a familiar rhythm of life. He and Elizabeth had already grieved their childless reality and the scorn that came with it. Couples without children were seen has having been judged unworthy by God.

They had accepted the political reality of their lives, as well. Just go about your business. There’s nothing to be done about the corruption at the highest levels of government. It is what it is. Just keep your head down and deal with what’s in front of you. That’s all you can do.

So, that’s what Zechariah was doing. I wonder if he had given up on his prayers. I mean, he did his job. But in their youth, they likely prayed fervently for a child. Perhaps they prayed for the circumstances of their country to change. They prayed for a Messiah who would take them out of the oppression and occupation of Rome—who would replace the tyrant king with a true king. One who loved his people deeply. Who served his people. Who would reverse all the damage and bad decisions of leadership going all the way back to their first entry into the Promised Land.

So, I wonder if he still prayed. Or just accepted the lot they’d been given and moved along in his day with reluctant resignation. Until the drudgery was interrupted by the glory of an angel. And he was deeply disturbed. The word in Greek is tarasso. It’s the same word used when Mary encounters the angel, as well. It refers to a trembling at the very core of a person. Like an inner earthquake. Which makes sense, considering.

“Do not be afraid, Zechariah.” It seems a little trite given the circumstances. But the angel goes on. “Your prayer has been heard.” And then he goes on to explain that Elizabeth will bear a son. And while that’s the end of today’s reading, the angel has much more to say about this son. He will restore faith in God. He will prepare the way of the Lord. This means that more than one prayer has been heard. It’s more than just having a child. It’s a promise—a promise of something bigger. A promise of the Messiah—the one long-awaited. The one who will change the world!

We are not unlike Zechariah. We have deep longings and what seems like unanswered prayers. We see the people who hunger—for food and for justice. We hear the cries of those kidnapped on the streets, longing for a home. We recognize the women who fear both saying ‘yes’ and ‘no.’ We know the prayers for a miracle, even if we can’t quite decide what that miracle should be. We can see that things are not as they should be. We know fear that disguises itself as anger, as giving up, even as capitulation.

And confronted with a new hope, a new way, we might feel fear more than relief. Because, while change is necessary, change is hard. While reorientation and transformation are good, they are scary. It’s natural to have complex feelings about God’s promises and work in this world. And yet…can we imagine the goodness in the midst of the fear? Can we allow ourselves to hope even while we cringe?

I’m thinking today about moving my mom to Lincoln this weekend. She’s naturally feeling grief and fear about a great many things—getting around Lincoln, working with an HOA, having neighbors so close, leaving behind friends, leaving behind a home of 57 years, leaving behind certainty and rhythms that are familiar. And yet, I hope she can also be excited about the opportunities of Lincoln, having an HOA, having neighbors that are close, making new friends, having a home with no stairs, finding a new rhythm with family nearby. And it’s okay to feel both fear and hope at the same time. One doesn’t cancel the other.

Because fear isn’t the only truth at play. Difficulty and violence and tyranny are not the only elements of life for Zechariah—or for us. There is also hope. There is also excitement. There is also the watching and waiting and listening to recognize God breaking into the world—often in quiet, simple ways. Like an angel in the solitude of one person. But we also hope to recognize God’s presence in large ways, as well—like hopeful protests of angry grandmothers, and aid vessels embarking toward Gaza—like people standing up for humanity in the face of tyrants and violence. Like people offering help to an immigrant family. Like a church offering free meals during hard times. Like people showing up to worship God and praying, hoping, even expecting that God will show up.

Pastor Tobi White

Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church

Lincoln, NE