Ol' Zak, After the Angel: A Monologue

by Lowell Uda

Ol' Zak, After the Angel:

  A Monologue

  by Lowell Uda

  Copyright Lowell Uda 2013

  Cover Design by Lowell Uda

  Cover Photo by pio3/shutterstock.com

  Epigram

  "Every angel's terrifying"-- Duino Elegies, Ranier Maria Rilke

  Ol' Zak, After the Angel

  Introduction

  I have a degree from the Iowa Writers' Workshop and a degree from The Iliff School of Theology. Zechariah is struck dumb by an angel, in Luke 3: 7 - 18. His loss of voice becomes a metaphor for me, of forgetting that all things are possible with God. As I entered into ministry after graduating from Iliff, I wondered what would happen in my writing life. Would I doubt the birth of something new and suffer a long period of voicelessness as Zechariah did?

  Ol' Zach, After the Angel: A Monologue

  Table of Contents

  Epigram

  Introduction

  Ol' Zach, After the Angel

  Brief Bio of the Author

  Where to find Lowell Uda online

  Ol’ Zak, After the Angel: A Monologue

  Luke 3: 7 - 18

  I was over nine months

  without a voice.

  It was like a long overdue pregnancy.

  Let me tell you, being without voice,

  is like being blind, being condemned to darkness.

  It is like wandering in darkness, in a great wilderness

  where the light is dim and there is no one about

  but yourself and the animals and the strange spirits

  that seem so familiar, yet you know not what

  dark canyon or cave they emerged from.

  For months, I imagined myself a voiceless voice

  crying in the wilderness, but nothing human heard me.

  My mouth was open, but my tongue was like stone.

  Nothing came out of me, and all around me,

  in the vast wilderness was the absence of God.

  In those days of silence,

  I kept going over and over in my mind

  how this happened to me, to us.

  We were just good ordinary people, Liz and me,

  minding our own business.

  I was proud to be Zechariah, of the priestly order of Abijah.

  Wife Elizabeth was a descendant of Aaron.

  Everyone knew us to be righteous before God.

  No one could say that we did not live blamelessly

  according to all the commandments and regulations of the Lord.

  Yet we were not blessed with children. The years went by,

  and it became evident that poor Lizzie was barren.

  Who knows thy ways, O Lord?

  One day, I was serving as priest before God.

  My section was on duty. I was chosen by lot,

  according to the custom of the priesthood,

  to enter the sanctuary of the Lord and to offer incense.

  It was such a privilege.

  As I approached the altar of incense,

  I remember thinking, how much I loved the cedar

  and the gold inlay. Light shone from the upper windows

  of the House of the Lord, and smoke from the incense

  rose into the beams of light. I loved it.

  I looked around at the ten golden lamp stands,

  glinting gold everywhere, and listened to

  the whole assembly of people praying outside,

  a burble of voices at God’s door.

  It was then, as I enjoyed a wonder of well-being,

  that there, on the right side of the altar,

  a personage--an angel--an angel of the Lord--

  appeared.

  I was terrified. I never thought

  it could be like this, but I felt my hair rise,

  even on my wrists, and I fell backward,

  The angel spoke:

  “Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer

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

  and you will name him John.

  You will have joy and gladness,

  and many will rejoice at his birth,

  for he will be great in the sight of the Lord.

  “He must never drink wine and strong drink;

  even before his birth he will be filled with the Holy Spirit.

  He will turn many of the people of Israel

  to the Lord their God. With the spirit and power of Elijah

  he will go before him, to turn the hearts of parents to their children,

  and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous,

  to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.”

  You can imagine my reaction: What prayer?

  Have l been praying for this, at my age,

  at my time of life, when I am so satisfied

  with where I am, how I am, and I have

  my life in order, the way I want it?

  Has my heart betrayed me?

  Finally, I overcame my amazement and fear,

  and said to the angel: ”How can this be so?

  I am an old man, and Lizzie is no spring chicken either,

  Why me?”

  I must have upset the angel. He said:

  “I am Gabriel...because you do not believe my words,

  which will be fulfilled in their time, you will become mute,

  unable to speak, until the day these things occur.”

  And that was that. Mute. Dumb. For over nine months,

  I was in my wilderness of voicelessness,

  my eyes beseeching, my mouth open,

  but my tongue like stone. I had all the time in the world

  to think about what I had seen and heard

  in God’s house, to nurture what was coming to be

  in myself.

  Finally, it happened: the baby!

  Oh, I was not like other fathers,

  asleep in another tent,

  or in the temple polishing

  the implements for the next ritual.

  I was there, outside the birthing room,

  hearing Lizzie’s cries of pain,

  shooed away by the midwives.

  “Scat,” they said. “This is a woman thing.

  Give her room to breathe.”

  No, no, I wanted to say.

  Not when an angel’s got your tongue.

  Not when an angel’s got my tongue.

  I tell you, it’s also a man thing.

  Then, another voice came from the birthing room,

  the voice of the baby, and soon one of the midwives

  came out to say that it was a boy! Imagine, a boy!

  After all these years! The angel was right!

  Oh, how I wanted to shout: Abraham, step aside!

  Make room for Ol’ Zak here! People will also remember

  Zechariah when they think of late births!

  But I had no voice. I could not speak.

  I believe I had this silly grin on my face.

  I tried to get into people’s faces,

  to show them how overjoyed I was,

  but they were only interested in Elizabeth

  and the baby. All the neighbors came,

  and the relatives, to see the baby,

  and to say: See, the Lord has shown great mercy

  to Elizabeth. Hallelujah! Praise the Lord!

  Our God can do anything, even make what has been

  a barren wilderness bloom with new life.

  Our sister Elizabeth is a woman among women!

  For eight days, I had to endure the silence,

  and the neighbors, and the relatives.

  I prayed,
“O God, help me. I am yours.

  I am yours.” Finally, my fellow priests

  came to circumcise my boy.

  They took the baby

  from Elizabeth. They covered the table with linen,

  and laid the baby on it.

  Then, the chief priest said, “He is a wonderful boy,

  this little Zechariah.”

  But Elizabeth said, “No, he is to be called John.

  Ask my husband.”

  I tried to speak,

  but nothing came out of my mouth.

  I made a writing motion in the air.

  Bring me a tablet, I motioned. Bring me a tablet.

  Finally, they understood. And I wrote:

  “His name is John.” In all capitals, and like Moses

  I held up the tablet for all to see. And you should have seen

  their faces--the priests, my relatives, and the neighbors--

  all of them were amazed. And I felt this wonderful explosion

  in my throat, and my tongue was no longer stone, but flowed

  like water, like fire, and my lips moved,

  and I could speak once again! I could speak again!

  After all those months of silence,

  you’d think I could say more than I did--more than “Hallelujah!

  Praise God! Blessed be his holy name!” But oh,

  try to stop my voice now!

  Then the spirit of the Lord, holy fire, came upon me,

  and I became a prophet. I said:

  “Blessed be the Lord God of Israel,

  for he has looked favorably on his people and redeemed them.

  He has raised up a mighty savior for us

  in the house of his servant David,

  as he spoke through the mouth of his holy prophets from of old,

  that we would be saved from our enemies

  and from the hand of all who hate us.

  Thus he has shown the mercy promised to our ancestors,

  and has remembered his holy covenant,

  the oath that he swore to our ancestor Abraham,

  to grant us that we, being rescued from the hands of our enemies,

  might serve him without fear,

  in holiness and righteous

  before him all our days.”

  Then I picked up my boy, thinking “Nothing is impossible for God--

  not the barrenness of an older woman, not the reluctance of an old man--new life is possible everywhere--and held him in my arms, my little John,

  so all could see, and I said:

  “And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High;

  for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways,

  to give knowledge of salvation to his people

  by the forgiveness of their sins.

  By the tender mercy of our God,

  the dawn from on high will break upon us,

  to give light to those who sit in darkness

  [as I sat in the darkness of my own voicelessness]

  and in the shadows of death,

  to guide our feet into the way of peace.”

  This is my son John, who will be known

  as John the baptizer. Heed his words.

  Shalom and amen.