Luke begins his gospel by telling the story of a married couple, Zechariah and Elizabeth. Zechariah is a priest, and Elizabeth is descended from a line of priests going back to Moses. And, like other many couples in scripture, these two good people had no children; it is written that the wife was barren. They had prayed fervently for a child, but the months and years went by without a pregnancy, without a baby, and now they were old, way old. In fact, they were past the age of even praying for a child and were suffering through the pain of being childless.
I use the word suffering because at that time, having children was a seen as a necessary part of society. Children continued the tribe of Israel, and if you did not have children, you were not doing your duty to the tribe. Bearing children was an act of survival and sustainability.
So, I mentioned that Zechariah was one of a group of priests, and once a year, the priest drew lots to determine who would go into the sanctuary of the temple in Jerusalem to burn incense. This was a big deal. Some priests would spend a lifetime of service and never get the chance. This was a very big deal. It was a bit scary, too, because you did not play around in the Temple, you needed to know your duty and to do it because there were all kinds of stories about people being consumed by fire if they did the wrong thing, or if they went into the Temple but did not have a clean heart.
So, Zechariah receives the honor; he would get to go into the Temple to burn incense. As you can imagine, he was quite nervous, and as Zechariah approached the altar to ignite his fragrant herbs, an angel appeared, and the priest was suddenly, utterly terrified. He was gripped by fear. You might even say that Zechariah was hysterical.
We need to freeze the story here and talk about what it means to be hysterical.
Today we tend to use the word "hysterical" to describe something extremely humorous. We might say that a movie was hysterically funny. The dictionary definition of hysterical says that it is "an uncontrollable emotional outburst as from fear." So, it can be extremely funny or an emotional outburst. The root of "hysterical" is hystera, which is the Greek word for "womb." That’s w o m b. You might recognize it in the surgical term, hysterectomy. So, you might ask, what in the world does being hysterical have to do with a womb? And why are we talking about this in church?
Well, to talk about the connection, we have to look to the disciplines of theology and philosophy. Noted Greek philosopher Plato did not have a particularly enlightened understanding of the sexes. Plato contended that emotional responses to the world were faulty reactions. He thought that the goal of philosophy, and actually the goal of society, was to help men cultivate their powers of pure reason so as to be freed from the shackles of raw, undisciplined emotion. Logic good; emotion bad. So, while Plato thought that it was the goal of men to pursue logic, he also argued that logic was an impossible quest for women. Plato thought that at their very core, women were emotional creatures. And, he thought that the source of their emotions was the womb. This was the seat of irrationality. He even claimed that from time to time a woman's womb would actually uproot itself and travel around inside her body. When a womb began migrating about a woman's body, the philosophers believed it led to general emotional upset. Hence, a diagnosis of "hysteria," literally, "of the womb."
What is interesting in our text is that this time, it is a man, Zechariah, showing signs of hysteria. The angel Gabriel tells Zechariah to be calm. Then he explains that Zechariah's prayer for a child has been answered. Zechariah’s wife Elizabeth, will conceive, that they will have a son whom they will name "John." He will be a prophet, and, says Gabriel, he will turn the hearts of people to their children.
Zechariah points out that both he and his wife are old, and he asks for a sign that this pregnancy will happen. Gabriel thinks that this priest is being quite nervy asking for a sign, after all, Zechariah is standing in the presence of an angel. So Gabriel gives Zechariah a sign. He makes him mute, totally silent until the prophecy comes true.
This is something interesting about this part of the gospel of Luke; the men are strangely quiet. Zechariah is silenced. Joseph says nothing at all.
I think that this is Luke’s attempt to draw all attention towards the two women cousins Mary and Elizabeth, both hysterical as the babies jump around in their wombs.
Pure hysteria. I imagine that Plato would have cringed at the rampant emotionalism of it all. And it's just getting started, for after the raucous reunion where the cousins bump their rounded tummies, the women start to prophesy. They start to talk about how the world ought to be. They make claims about what God wants of us. They speak about tyrants being thrown down; hungry people getting food; the blind made to see and the lame made to walk.. They protest social inequalities. They speak of a new order of things.
I believe that Luke truly had women in mind as an audience for this gospel. Luke wants us to catch sight of a vision for this world as imagined by two pregnant prophets, two mothers to be. And when you think about it, I know of no one who has higher expectations for the future of our planet, who is fierce than a mother in wanting to protect the vulnerable, who is more heroically hopeful about the world, than those who are pregnant.
The angel Gabriel says to Elizabeth and Zechariah, the hearts of parents will be turned toward their children.
Don't you just love the end of this text? Neighbors arrive at Elizabeth's house to circumcise the baby and name him. They decide to call him "Zechariah" after his father. Quickly, the child's mother intercedes. "No," says Elizabeth, "he is to be named John." The crowd protests. "John? That makes no sense, you irrational woman, no one in your family is named John." Frustrated, they turn to mute Zechariah. The silent priest motions for a tablet. And then, I like to imagine, he looks at his wife, and he looks at the miraculous child that has come forth from her womb, and he writes without hesitation, "His name is John." And all were amazed.
Maybe, after all, there is hope for those of us who belong to the weaker sex. Food for the hungry, sings Mary, love for the lowly. Can you hear the pregnant prophets' voices? Are you dreaming of a hysterical Christmas? May it be so. Amen.
Queen Anne 
