MAKE THE WAY The Story of John the Baptizer

By Toni C. Clark

An angel of God came to an old priest while serving in the Holy Temple and told him his prayer would be answered. Zechariah and his aged wife would bring a son into the world, and he would be called John. The angel said John would be a joy and delight to Zechariah and Elizabeth, and many would rejoice because of his birth. John was destined to prepare the way in the spirit and power of Elijah for the coming Messiah. He took his first breath in Ein Kerem, not far from the Holy Temple. Six months later, by miraculous conception, John's cousin was born in Bethlehem, and his name was Jesus. He was born to be a ruler and king of all people.

As small children, John and Jesus escaped the wrath of King Herod, who massacred the innocents to secure his throne. John was taken to the hills of Ein Kerem to hide, and Jesus was carried to Egypt. After the king died, the children were brought from their havens. They often played together, keeping childhood secrets and sharing their dreams. They grew to be men, strong in spirit and hopeful.

John struggled to understand his purpose but believed Jesus was the Messiah who would free Israel's people from Rome's tyranny. Finally, in fulfillment of his purpose, John went through Judaea and preached repentance, making the way for the Messiah. He was then arrested by Herod Antipas, the son of the man who had murdered the children of Bethlehem. For nearly two years, John was in a dark prison cell, tormented by loneliness and the king's taunting. He struggled to understand where he had failed, and he began to wonder if Jesus was the one. Then he found his answer.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Mar 11, 2024
• ISBN: 9798890437648

Book preview

cover.jpg

MAKE THE WAY The Story of John the Baptizer

Toni C. Clark

ISBN 979-8-89043-763-1 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-89043-764-8 (digital)

Copyright © 2024 by Toni C. Clark

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Scriptures are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version® (NIV®). Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com. The NIV and New International Version are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Remembering Bob, because you always believed in me

Acknowledgments

To My Readers

The Hebrew Calendar

The Children

Chapter 1

Chosen by Lot

Chapter 2

Home to Ein Kerem

Chapter 3

Gabriel's Words

Chapter 4

John Is Born

Chapter 5

Joseph's Vision

Chapter 6

Bethlehem

Chapter 7

The Magi

Chapter 8

Redemption and Prophesy in the Temple

Chapter 9

Home to Nazareth

Chapter 10

Hide the Children

Chapter 11

Massacre of the Innocents

Chapter 12

Making a Home

Chapter 13

A Refuge on an Island

Chapter 14

Desolate Plans

Chapter 15

The Long Journey

Chapter 16

By God's Grace

Chapter 17

Rome's Shame

Chapter 18

Herod's Demise

Chapter 19

A Man's Stories

Chapter 20

Called Out of Egypt

Chapter 21

John's Home

Chapter 22

The Carpenter's Hands

Chapter 23

Near Death

Chapter 24

Forever Friends

Chapter 25

Death of a Friend

Chapter 26

What Children Know

Chapter 27

Jesus at the Temple

They Became Men

Chapter 28

The Essene

Chapter 29

John's Discernment

Chapter 30

He Is Dead

Chapter 31

A Family Visit

Chapter 32

Sepphoris

Chapter 33

When to Say Goodbye

Chapter 34

A Priest Becomes a Mason

Chapter 35

A Wife and Children

Chapter 36

The Purpose of Things

Chapter 37

An Answer to Prayer

Chapter 38

The Cave in the Wilderness

Chapter 39

The True Light

Chapter 39

He is Baptized

Chapter 40

Fisher of Men

Chapter 41

John Is Less

Chapter 42

John Is Taken

Chapter 43

The News

Chapter 44

Driven from Nazareth

Chapter 45

The Visits

Chapter 46

Considerations

Chapter 47

John's Disciples

Chapter 48

Miracles

Chapter 49

Herod's Gift

Chapter 50

The Teacher Is Buried

Chapter 51

Walking on Water

Chapter 52

Jesus Transfigured

Chapter 53

To Bethany

Chapter 54

Lazarus in the Dark

Chapter 55

Her Heart Is Pierced

Chapter 56

Things to Come

Cast of Characters

About the Author

Remembering Bob, because you always believed in me

Acknowledgments

Heartfelt thanks to my brother and sister in life and Christ—John and Andrea. Thank you for watching over me.

To My Readers

Make the Way is a historical fiction novel—facts blended with suppositions. The books of the Bible support the events talked about in this book. In addition, the written chronicles of first-century Rome—as penned by Tacitus, Suetonius, and Dio Cassius—create a portrait of ancient life that ignites our imaginations. Flavius Josephus, a first-century Roman-Jewish historian and military leader, recorded tremendous details of events in Judaea, Egypt, and other kingdoms, providing an account of life during the time of Jesus. Also empowering our imaginations are the marvels of archaeological discoveries—stones, bones, coins, and entire villages. By blending all these details, we can gain an intimate understanding of the characters of Scripture and the glory belonging to God.

The Hebrew Calendar

Notes on time:

Part 1

The Children

Chapter 1

Chosen by Lot

Twenty-first day of Sivan

Monday, June 5, 5 BC

Zechariah, the son of Barachiah, was pulled from sleep when the first light of day fell onto his eyelids. He stretched and tried to remember the dream, but nothing came to mind. With each passing year, it became more difficult to remember the visions that came during sleep. He rubbed his eyes and scratched his skin through his long soft beard. Finally, he yawned before nudging Elizabeth.

Come, wife. It is time.

Zechariah was a descendant of Aaron, the first high priest of Israel and the brother of the great prophet Moses. Belonging to the tribe of Levi, the same tribe Moses and Aaron were from, Zechariah was of the priestly division of Abijah. It was the eighth of twenty-four priestly divisions created long ago to serve God's Holy Temple. The divisions had been defined by King David almost a thousand years before Zechariah was born.

Like all men of priestly descent, Zechariah appreciated his heritage and lived by order and custom. He grew up as the son of a priest, lived as a priest, and performed his studies and priestly duties according to the Law of Moses. He never deviated from custom or defined rituals. Some people considered him tenacious and rigid, but Zechariah believed that when a man stepped away from his path, he was apt to stumble.

Zechariah sighed heavily, then pushed himself up from his sleeping mat and lit the oil lamp. He stretched and groaned, bringing Elizabeth fully awake. She pushed the blanket away and came to her feet. Zechariah handed her a long tunic, and they dressed.

Elizabeth poured water from a small ewer into the basin. Standing side by side, they washed their faces and cleaned their teeth, each pulling a comb through their hair afterward. Elizabeth tied her hair in a knot and put the netting over it while Zechariah dragged the comb through his beard. It was the morning routine they had been doing for over thirty years. Neither spoke while the tasks were performed, but they shared a sense of love and respect.

Elizabeth was also a descendant of Aaron from the tribe of Levi. She had been born in the town of Hebron, where the Cave of Machpelah held the remains of the patriarchs Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Her name meant God is my oath, and she lived her life accordingly. Elizabeth and Zechariah had been married in their fourteenth year of life. It took a little time to fall in love with him, but Elizabeth adored Zechariah more deeply as time passed and understood his fussy nature. Though most people thought he was stubborn and prudent, she knew he was a compassionate man who sought a peaceful life. He did everything with a tender hand and a deep, gentle voice. Indeed, her husband lived in accordance with the ancient proverb written by King Solomon: A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.

They lived in the tranquil town of Ein Kerem, which lay in the grassy foothills southwest of Jerusalem. It was a place of fragrant cypress trees, flowering wild herbs, and lush vineyards, and the houses in the heart of the town were small and stood close together. Their home was on the edge of the city and, like those of his neighbors, had a broad lawn and a small garden.

Whether living close to a neighbor or a distance apart, the people of Ein Kerem were mindful of one another. The townspeople had given Zechariah a particular name—Old Priest. They respected his wisdom and often pointed out that his thick silver hair resembled a straggly crown. Zechariah did not consider himself an old man, although he would admit to feeling a bit of stiffness in his knees now and then. However, he was nearly fifty, and it saddened him that this would be his last year serving the Temple. All priests were made to retire from performing Temple duties after their fiftieth year of life.

They entered the main room and stood near the window, facing the direction of the Holy Temple. Then, holding their supinated hands in front of their chests, Zechariah spoke the words Blessed are you, Lord, our God, king of the universe, who gave us night and day. Listen, O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord alone, and you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your being, and all your might.

After reciting the blessings, Zechariah voiced the petition they always sent to the Lord. They were childless because Elizabeth could not conceive, and they prayed for a son each day. Elizabeth prayed this fervently because she had carried the burden of shame for too long. She had married the good man Zechariah thirty-six years ago, and each passing year had fixed the disgrace deeper in her heart. Oh, she desperately wanted to give her husband a son, so she prayed to ask the Lord to open her womb.

When they finished their morning prayers, Zechariah noticed the glint of tears in Elizabeth's eyes. Every morning, she bore a look of guilt. He had never shamed her barren womb and, countless times, had assured her that if God wanted them to have children, it would happen. Still, she cried nearly every morning, which always tore at his heart. He gently put his hand on her shoulder and spoke near a whisper, Elizabeth, dry your eyes.

She managed a smile because it was what he said each morning. Wiping her face on the edge of her tunic, she let out a long sigh. I love you, husband. She studied his face for a moment. We grew up together, and now we are growing old together. I only wish—

He raised a hand to halt her words. Elizabeth, I will remind you of ancient days when God told Abraham that his wife, Sarai, would bear him a son. Indeed, God gave her the new name of Sarah and healed her body. She was beyond eighty years old when she conceived. You are not yet in your fiftieth year of life, so hold on to hope.

Elizabeth laughed softly. Eighty. Can you imagine? Such a miracle, but God does not make such miracles these days.

His glance was harsh.

She sighed. And now you will tell me the Lord God has a plan for us.

Zechariah nodded. Yes, just as I have told you many times before. Jeremiah wrote what God said. ‘For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.'

She smiled but did not put her thoughts into words. Her future was a matter of fewer days—she was no longer a young woman. Perhaps God considered her undeserving because she was not a woman with faith like Sarah. However, she was faithful in her belief that the Lord God answered prayers, so despite being less than Sarah, perhaps God would look away from her weaknesses and put a child in her womb.

In our hearts, we plan our course, but the Lord establishes our steps, Zechariah said.

She sighed. I know the proverbs, Zechariah. King Solomon had God at his side when he wrote the book of words.

And God is also at your side.

Elizabeth sighed again and then silently chastised herself because her deep sighs were too frequent. She should be like her husband and find joy in each day. Rubbing her forehead, she called on her faith and vowed that the next time she was at the Temple, she would present a peace offering to show her love and generosity toward the Eternal One.

She went into the kitchen, shook out her apron, and slipped it over her head. Her stiff fingers fumbled with the strings before finally managing to tie them at her waist. Happily humming while warming the previously cooked barley, she sprinkled crushed almonds into the gruel. Stirring the mixture, she recalled the look on her husband's face as he told the story of Abraham and Sarah. He had the severe frown of a stern rabbi but the eyes of a man who delighted in God. She would never grow tired of looking at his face or listening to his teaching.

After the gruel began to bubble, she spooned it into two wooden bowls and carried them to the table. She also served a plate of bread and a small saucer of herb-flavored oil. It had always been her ambition to put fat on Zechariah's bones. He was a tall, reedy man; and though he was strong, she thought he would benefit from a bit more flesh.

Elizabeth sat beside Zechariah and watched him pour water into a basin. It is a mitzvah to wash one's hands before eating—a precious mandate keeping with religious duty. The tenet was an act of obedience to the Lord God, and the cleansing removed spiritual impurity. They washed, and then Zechariah spoke the blessing. Blessed are you, our Lord God, king of the world. Thank you for this meal and everything created through your word.

He tore off a piece of wheat bread.

Dip the bread in the oil, Elizabeth scolded. Eat all of it.

He quickly ate because he was anxious to start the journey to Jerusalem. Zechariah was scheduled to serve at the Temple for seven days. From Sabbath to Sabbath, he would perform the duties of the priestly division of Abijah.

You will get an ache in your belly, Zechariah. Do not eat so fast.

He dipped a large hunk of bread in the oil.

I put a sack of fresh cheese in your bundle.

There is food for the priests at the Temple, he said.

Yes, but you will have some of Fillie's cheese in case you need a bit of sustenance before the daily meal.

He sighed. I have never known anyone to name a goat.

That little creature has been with us for two years and has never failed to give us daily milk. I think she deserves a name, and Fillie suits her.

He shook his head, pushed the last bite of bread into his mouth, and got up from the table. Glancing at his wife, he grunted, lifted a small bundle of belongings over his shoulder, and left his home without a word.

Not even a kiss, Elizabeth muttered after he went out the door. She chuckled then. It was not Zechariah's way to show such affection, so she should not expect him to be any different on this day. She also knew he had to focus on the duties before him, and little else mattered. He could have at least bid farewell, she said to no one.

* * * * *

It was a short walk to the Temple—barely an hour. Zechariah enjoyed the time alone on the road. He usually passed a large vineyard along the way and always stopped to take in the musty aroma of the fruit growing on the twisted vines. Beneath the growing sunlight, he saw that the clustered pink berries were starting to brighten. In a few weeks, they would turn deep red, and the fruit's juice would be sweeter than its scent.

Zechariah had always been intrigued by the work of making tirosh. New wine is the sweetest. The grapes would be pulled from the branches only after the vinedresser determined them perfectly ripe, and then the fruit was taken to the winepress to be crushed. The press provided enough pressure to break the grape skin but did not crush the seeds, thus avoiding a bitter flavor. Zechariah's mouth watered at the thought of drinking a cup of tirosh. However, he did not partake in large amounts of fermented wine. Alcohol was not to be mixed with priestly duties because it could diminish a priest's capacity. A priest was to carry out his calling in a way that honored God, and drunkenness did no honor.

A tiny insect tickled his cheek, and he brushed it away. Beneath the pads of his fingertips, he felt the wrinkles—a reminder of many days gone by. He shook his head and felt a pang of sorrow. Oh, he had lived many seasons and experienced countless blessings. For that, he was very grateful. But God had not given him a son to complete his purpose. If he had a son, he would teach him the Torah, and they would talk about it each day and ponder the glory of the Lord. He would teach him about his ancestry so he could anticipate priestly reverence, and Zechariah would undoubtedly instruct him in leading prayers during the Passover celebration. When his son was old enough to wield a knife, Zechariah would show his son how to carve a small toy from mulberry wood.

Zechariah took a deep breath, put the thoughts away, and lifted his face to the sky. The sun was hanging over the horizon like a huge gold melon, and it would be a beautiful morning. The words King David had written came into his thoughts: This is the day which the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it. He looked at the rolling hills and distant wheat fields and smiled. It was harvest season. Soon sickles would be wielded, and the wheat gathered into bundles. The threshing would separate the chaff from the grain in a few more weeks. All things are done according to the Lord God's seasons, and life is a continuous cycle of renewal. He sighed and spoke another psalm aloud. Your threshing will continue until the grape harvest, and the grape harvest will continue until planting, and you will eat all the food you want and live safely in your land.

He continued walking briskly, going up to Jerusalem by way of the dusty paths. Before the fourth hour, he passed through the southern gate into the city and went to the huts outside the Temple's north wall. It was where the priests stayed until it was time to begin their service. They hailed from all parts of the land and came to Jerusalem to perform their obligatory period of service for seven days.

He settled his bundle in the long hut, choosing a place below one of the few windows. The remainder of the day would be devoted to studying, and when evening came, the other men of the Abijah clan would gather outside, around a hearth, and talk about their families or work. Most priests were farmers or shepherds, and a few were weavers or potters. Zechariah did not like to talk about his work. He was a successful legal scribe, but what happened while he earned a daily living and the events of his household seemed trivial. Instead, he preferred to stay near the lamplight and study the scrolls.

Early the next day, before the sun rose, Zechariah and the other priests left the hut and entered the Temple through the western gate. They climbed the spiral staircase and went to the Chamber of the Flame. It was on the north side of the Temple's inner court, and it was where the priests resided during their week of service. Zechariah claimed one of the divans by setting his bundle on it. The divans were like broad steps spanning upward in a great tier. All the older priests reclined on them. Zechariah always chose the second level because it was closer to the hearth where the eternal flame burned.

The younger priests slept below the tiers of divans, atop cushions on the floor. They would put their sacred garments under their heads and cover themselves with their robes. Even though it was warm this time of year, the stone floor was always uncomfortably cold. So those sleeping on the floor would often awaken during the night to warm their hands and feet near the fire, then go back to their cushion and rest a while longer.

They then went to the Immersion Chamber, where they would bathe, dry by the fire in the hearth, and don their priestly garments. Zechariah cleansed his body, and after he was dry, he put on pants made of white linen and slowly pulled a long tunic over his head. The tunic was also white linen, so soft and smooth it almost shined; and around it he wore a belt woven with four colors of threads—blue, purple, scarlet, and white. His fingers quivered as he tied the two ends of the belt in front. It was such a reverent feeling to dress in the priestly garments, and his hands always trembled when he donned the vestments. Lastly, he painstakingly wrapped the long strip of white fabric around his head to fashion the conical cap.

He stood for a moment and meditated. Breathing deeply, he closed his eyes and ignored the chatter of the other priests who were dressing. He was aware of the holy vestments on his body and treasured the feel of their softness against his skin. When Moses brought the Israelites out of Egypt, all priests were taught to dress in the manner defined by Torah—instructions God spoke to Moses. Zechariah wore the priestly garments as his father and all his ancestors had done.

He whispered a prayer. Praise the Lord, you his servants; praise the name of the Lord. Let the name of the Lord be praised, both now and forevermore. From the rising of the sun to the place where it sets, the name of the Lord is to be praised.

Zechariah served on one of twenty-four patrols, which were called the mishmarot, that changed every week. At the beginning of each day of their service, the priests were assigned to duty by four lots. The lots were not a matter of chance. Since ancient times, the drawing of lots had given responsibilities to the priests, and the results were the divination of the will of God.

The first lot was to assign priests to clean the altar and prepare its fires. The altar was as tall as three men, and the priests ascended a ramp to reach its height, where three separate wood piles burned. The largest pile was designated to receive all the sacrifices, the second provided the coals for the incense altar within the sanctuary, and the third pile of wood was the perpetual fire burning on the altar. The altar was the heart of the Temple, for all the divine offerings happened there. Its exact location was where Adam, the first man, was created. It was also the precise place where Abraham built an altar and bound Isaac, his son.

The second lot was to choose the priests who would offer the sacrifices, cleanse the altar of incense, and polish the candlesticks. There were ten candlesticks of pure gold, five on the right of the altar and five on the left.

The priests offering incense were designated when the third lot was drawn. Three priests were chosen, and the first of them would carry away the gray ashes left on the altar at the preceding service. After he departed, the second priest would go into the sanctuary, bringing a pan of burning coals he had raked from the perpetual fire on the altar of sacrifice. He would place the coals on the golden altar of incense and leave. Then the third priest would come with the incense of balsam, onycha, galbanum, and pure frankincense. He would sprinkle it on the burning coals, and while the smoke ascended to heaven, he would make intercessions for the people.

Finally, the fourth lot selected those who would lay the meat-and-drink offering on the altar of sacrifice near the east entrance of the Temple.

Zechariah served at the altar on the first day, tending the perpetual fire. On the second, he served the meat offering. On the third through sixth days, he performed the priestly duties of offering sacrifices. On the last day of service, Zechariah and the other priests of Abijah cleansed themselves and then waited in their chambers for the announcement. Finally, the officer cried out the arrival of morning. All arise! Priests, begin your duties!

Zechariah and the other priests went to the Court of Israel and stood near the Levite choir to sing hymns. Cymbals, harps, and lyres accompanied the harmonic voices. The melodic offering wafted throughout the Temple courts, sending the pigeons into flight from a roost atop the walls. The music was enlightening, and Zechariah closed his eyes to imagine the song rising to heaven and drifting to the Lord God's throne. He joyfully sang the words of David's psalm.

The earth is the Lord's and everything in it,

The world, and all who live in it;

For he founded it on the seas and established it on the waters.

Who may ascend the mountain of the Lord?

Who may stand in his holy place?

The one who has clean hands and a pure heart,

Who does not trust in an idol or swear by a false god.

They will receive blessing from the Lord and vindication from God their Savior.

After the daily hymns, the allotment began so the priests could receive their assignments. On the last day of his service, Zechariah and two other priests were chosen in the third lot to provide the incense service at the altar nearest the veil in the sanctuary. The role of the incense offering was the most honorable part of the service, and this time it fell on Zechariah. Since thousands of priests served the Temple, they would have the chance to offer incense only once. He had been certain the duty would never fall on him before he retired, yet he had been chosen on this day.

After the priests received their assignments, Zechariah and the other two priests went to the place of the altar of incense. Zechariah waited outside the sanctuary while the first priest took the cool ashes from the incense altar. The second priest then came with the pan and put the sacred coals in place. Then, as was the rule, Zechariah entered the sanctuary alone and began to go about his duties to offer up the incense. He felt his skin tingle when he looked upon the reverent beauty of the altar. It was made of acacia wood and overlaid with gold. An ornamental gold rim encircled its top like a crown, with horns on each corner, and the shimmering light from the candlesticks danced on the rim. The altar stood before the dark purple veil separating the holy place from the most holy place.

Zechariah glanced at the veil. He would not let his eyes linger on the thick material, knowing that the space behind it was like no other place on earth. It was the holy of holies, and only the kohen gadol—the high priest—went beyond the veil once a year to offer the blood and incense during Yom Kippur.

In ancient days, the Ark of the Covenant was in the holy of holies, and every Hebrew child grew up knowing that the Ark was the most important symbol of the Jewish faith. It served as the physical manifestation of God on earth, and his presence dwelt between the two cherubim over the mercy seat. Once a year, the kohen gadol entered the holy of holies and sprinkled the blood of a bull and a goat on the Ark's mercy seat to atone for the sins of the nation. However, the Ark disappeared nearly six hundred years ago when Babylon destroyed the temple built by King Solomon.

The good prophet Jeremiah wrote that God foretold that the Ark would never be replaced: ‘In those days, when your numbers have increased greatly in the land,' declares the Lord, ‘people will no longer say, The ark of the covenant of the Lord. It will never enter their minds or be remembered; it will not be missed, nor will another one be made.'

Zechariah felt a shiver crawl down his back. Behind the veil was the foundation stone where the Ark would have rested; it was still the holiest place on earth. He was not worthy of looking at the veil or pondering the space behind it.

With great reverence and humility, he focused on the incense altar. The coals shimmered red and gold, and he could feel their heat on his face. He sprinkled the incense over the glowing coals and immediately smelled the sweet, spicy aroma. Then, as the fragrant smoke ascended, he drew near the altar, lifted his face, and prostrated his hands. Finally, he made intercessions for the people so that their prayers would ascend to heaven. His lips moved as he silently chanted King David's words. May my prayer be set before you like incense; may the lifting up of my hands be like the evening sacrifice.

After Zechariah completed his tasks, he offered his own prayer and asked God to give him a son. The prayer was brief but fervent, and then he solemnly turned to leave. Suddenly the light within the sanctuary turned extremely bright, and an angel of God appeared on the right side of the incense altar. The angel was like a man. He had glossy black hair and deep, dark eyes. His skin, the color of an almond, shone as if his body had an inner light. He wore a shimmering white robe, and around his waist was a golden sash with silver tassels. Zechariah immediately became troubled by the image, and fear caused him to tremble. He let out a shallow gasp.

Do not be afraid, Zechariah, the glorious messenger said.

The angel's words echoed in Zechariah's chest, yet the sound of his voice bestowed tremendous comfort and swaddled him in the warmth of a holy blanket.

Your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son; 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.

There was an aura around the heavenly messenger. It was like a shimmering rainbow flowing and wavering with each of his words. Zechariah held his breath as the angel continued to speak.

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 many of Israel's people back to the Lord their God. And he will go on before the Lord, in the spirit and power of Elijah, turning 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.

Zechariah took a deep breath and felt the air tingle inside his chest. He cleared his throat and dared a question. How can you be sure? My wife is well along in years.

The aura around the messenger suddenly wavered, and Zechariah saw that the angel's eyes had narrowed. Zechariah trembled and fell to his knees.

I am Gabriel! I stand in the presence of God! I have been sent to speak to you and tell you this good news. And because you did not believe my words, you will be silent and unable to speak until the day this happens, which will come true at the appointed time.

Outside the sanctuary, many people had been praying and waiting for Zechariah. They wondered why he stayed so long in the holy place. After all, he was an older priest, and perhaps illness had come over him. They whispered among themselves and decided to send one of the men to find Samuel, the priest who oversaw the allotments. Samuel would know if someone should go into the sanctuary to see if anything had happened to Zechariah.

When Samuel answered the summons, he stood outside with the people, trying to determine what action to take. There were softly spoken suggestions and moans of concern from all those gathered, and it was then that Zechariah came out of the sanctuary. Everyone noticed his face was sallow. He kept moving his hands in gestures, and his eyes were wide. It soon became apparent Zechariah could not speak.

Samuel quickly took hold of Zechariah's arm and guided him swiftly to a private place. After they came into a small storage room, Samuel closed the door.

What has happened to you, Zechariah?

Unable to speak, Zechariah lowered his head.

Are you able to tell me?

Zechariah shook his head and tapped his fingers to his lips. He motioned wildly with his hand and became frustrated when he realized Samuel did not understand.

Are you trying to tell me you cannot speak?

Zechariah nodded emphatically.

Yes, something occurred. You can no longer speak, and I believe you saw a vision. Is that what happened, Zechariah?

The answer was another vigorous nod.

Yes, yes, Samuel said, and his voice was like that of a father speaking to a young child. Be still, he said, patting Zechariah's arm. You think you saw a vision. You need rest, Zechariah. Go to your chambers and recline for a time, then be on your way back home.

Zechariah nodded. With his work done for the day, he returned to the chamber of the flame. He lay upon his divan and closed his eyes, feeling the need to be alone and contemplate all that had happened. When recalling the face of God's messenger, his entire body shuddered. A humble servant priest, he had been visited by the angel Gabriel. For several hours, his lips moved in unspoken prayer. He did not leave to take food or drink and stayed on the divan until late afternoon.

Chapter 2

Home to Ein Kerem

Twenty-eighth day of Sivan

Monday, June 12, 5 BC

After seven days of service, Zechariah left the Temple to return home. He did not stop at the vineyard to smell the grapes or take time to watch the songbirds frolic in the trees. All the way, he kept his head down so he would not have to acknowledge those he passed by. He walked quickly and, in a short time, came into Ein Kerem. Passing rows of houses, he did not call out a greeting to his neighbors. Instead, he tried to remain insignificant to avoid explaining his condition. He went through the town, then came into his yard and up the pathway. There was so much to tell Elizabeth, but he dreaded the effort it would take since he did not have a voice. He quietly pushed open the door and went into the house.

Elizabeth was in the kitchen, kneading bread dough in a large earthenware bowl. She was humming and seemed quite joyful. He watched her for a moment, touched by her joviality, and considered her beauty. Zechariah had learned to see past the wrinkles etched around her mouth and at the corners of her eyes. Streaks of gray touched her dark curly hair. But despite her age, loveliness still lingered on her face. He was reminded of his love for her and was inclined to take her into his arms. It was not like him to show such affection. But the comfort of a woman's embrace could strengthen a man, and he needed some strength.

When Elizabeth noticed Zechariah had entered the house, she wiped her hands on her apron. Good day, my love! she said, almost singing the words. However, her smile quickly disappeared when she saw her husband's ashen face. Zechariah, you look as pale as an onion! What is wrong? She searched his face and awaited an answer, but he did not speak. Are you ill?

He shook his head and put his bundle of belongings in the corner of the room.

Pushing a wayward strand of curls from her face, Elizabeth let out a heavy sigh. Sit and rest, and I will make you some broth. What duties did the lot give you?

He lowered himself to sit at the table and put his head in his hands.

I knew it! You are not well! she said. "Do you have pain, Zechariah? Tell