Luke 1:21

Letters to the Faithful - Luke 1:21

Berean Standard Bible

Meanwhile, the people were waiting for Zechariah and wondering why he took so long in the temple.

King James Bible

And the people waited for Zacharias, and marvelled that he tarried so long in the temple.

----------------------------------

To the faithful of Christ Jesus, those set apart for the purposes of the living God, and to all who wait upon the Lord in this hour of tension, longing, and divine mystery,

Grace and peace be multiplied to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, who was, and is, and is to come. I write to you today with the weight of reflection upon a verse that may, at first glance, appear incidental, yet beneath its surface lies a deep well of spiritual insight for those who live between promise and fulfillment.

The Word of God tells us, “And the people waited for Zacharias, and marvelled that he tarried so long in the temple.” It is a verse of waiting. A verse of wondering. A verse that paints the scene just outside the sacred space, where a crowd of worshipers stood, watching the doors of the temple, not with full understanding, but with expectancy. And in their eyes, something was taking longer than it should have. The priest was delayed. The man who had entered to fulfill his duty was now tarrying beyond the usual time.

Here we find ourselves—not only reading Scripture but standing within it. For are we not also a people waiting outside the veil? Waiting for the voice of God? Waiting for the fulfillment of His promises? Waiting for answers to prayer, for deliverance, for healing, for the visible outworking of things declared in secret?

The people of Luke 1 were standing at the intersection of tradition and divine interruption. They were expecting the usual—a brief appearance, a blessing, a routine encounter. But something had shifted inside the temple. God had stepped in with a word not heard for centuries. An angel had visited a barren priest. A child of promise had been announced. The silence of heaven was breaking, and yet to those standing outside, it simply looked like delay.

So it is with us, beloved. There are moments when God is moving in the hidden place, speaking in the inner chamber, releasing answers, reordering timelines—and to us, it looks like delay. We stand outside the veil, counting time, measuring expectations, and we wonder: “Why is it taking so long?” We marvel, we question, we grow anxious—because the evidence of God’s activity is often veiled in holy silence.

But let us not mistake divine timing for divine absence. What we perceive as tarrying is often God’s sacred process. What we call delay may, in fact, be preparation. While Zacharias was inside encountering the angel Gabriel, God was beginning a new era of redemption. A prophetic voice was being conceived—not just in the womb of Elizabeth, but in the history of the world. Yet the people outside only saw a man taking longer than usual. Isn’t that so often the case? Heaven is working, and earth is wondering.

I write to you, then, not merely to reflect on history, but to speak into the present. For many in the body of Christ, this is a season of marveling at the silence. Prayers have been prayed. Altars have been visited. Sacrifices have been made. And yet there seems to be a delay. We wait, and we watch, and we ask, “What is happening behind the veil?”

Let me encourage you, dear saints: when God is silent, He is never still. When He tarries, He is never disengaged. His delays are not denials—they are deep workings of grace that often exceed what we are asking for. Zacharias entered the temple to offer incense, as was his duty, but he came out a man marked by glory, bearing a promise that would shake the wilderness and prepare the way for Christ Himself.

So wait well. Wait with reverence, not restlessness. Wait with worship, not weariness. The people waited at the threshold of a miracle they could not yet see. And so do we. We must not grow impatient at the slowness of sacred things. God’s movements are not mechanical. His answers are not transactional. He does not operate on our urgency but according to His eternal purpose.

The tarrying of Zacharias was not just about him—it was about what God was doing through him. In the same way, your delay may not be about you alone. It may be that God is positioning you as part of a bigger plan. Perhaps what is being birthed in your season of silence is not just an answer, but a voice, a forerunner, a movement that will prepare the way for Jesus in the lives of others.

Therefore, take courage. If you are in a waiting season, you are not alone. The church as a whole is in a posture of waiting—not for answers alone, but for awakening. We are waiting for the fullness of what God has promised. We are waiting for the return of the Bridegroom. We are waiting for the church to arise in power and purity. We are waiting for revival that begins not in tents but in temples—temples of living flesh, hearts fully surrendered.

And while we wait, let us not lose our wonder. The people marvelled that Zacharias tarried. Even in their confusion, they did not lose awe. Marveling is the tension between understanding and expectation. It is the humility that acknowledges God is at work even when we do not comprehend it. It is the posture that says, “Something holy is happening, and I am here for it.”

Let us not allow delay to become discouragement. Let it become deeper dependence. Let it refine our prayers, purify our motives, and stretch our faith. For just as Zacharias eventually emerged—marked by silence but carrying a promise—so too will the appointed time come for us. And when it does, may we be found waiting faithfully, watching fervently, and ready to believe.

I say to you in the Spirit: God is working behind the veil. Do not grow weary in your vigil. Keep waiting. Keep marveling. Keep standing in awe, even when you cannot see. What He births in the hidden place will soon break into the open. And like those worshipers of old, you will not just see a man emerge—you will witness a move of God.

--------------------------------

Heavenly Father, Eternal God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, we come before You today in reverent awe and deep longing. You are the God who speaks in the silence, the One who answers before we even ask, and the One who often works in ways beyond our understanding. Your presence is holy, and Your purposes are perfect. You have declared the end from the beginning, and though we are bound by time, You move in eternity.

Today, we lift our hearts in prayer as we reflect on that sacred moment when the people stood waiting outside the temple, watching for Zacharias, marveling that he delayed. We see them there, Lord—hands clasped, eyes raised, hearts filled with questions. They had come to worship. They had come to participate in what had always been. They expected the familiar rhythm of incense and benediction, and yet something unusual was unfolding behind the veil. Something was taking longer than expected. And in that waiting, wonder and confusion mingled.

So many of us find ourselves in that very place, Lord. We are a people who wait. We wait for answers. We wait for clarity. We wait for justice, for healing, for breakthrough. We wait for Your promises to come to pass. And like those worshipers of old, we often marvel at the silence, at the slowness, at what seems like divine delay.

And so we cry out to You now—not only for answers, but for understanding. Not only for fulfillment, but for the faith to endure the tarrying. Teach us, Lord, how to wait well. Teach us how to watch at the temple doors with hearts that do not waver, with eyes that do not wander, with spirits that do not faint. Let our waiting become worship. Let our marveling become expectancy. Let our confusion be swallowed up by trust.

Father, we confess that delay often exposes our weakness. It reveals our impatience, our assumptions, our desire to control the outcome. It stirs up questions that test our theology and our trust. But You are not a man that You should lie. You are not slow as we consider slowness. Your timing is not disorder—it is divine. You tarry, not to withhold, but to prepare. You delay, not to frustrate, but to fulfill something greater than we imagined.

Help us remember that while the people waited outside, You were speaking to Zacharias inside. While they stood in silence, You were announcing a miracle. While they wondered, You were establishing a prophetic answer that would break centuries of silence. So we ask You now, Lord, let us not lose heart in the waiting. Let us not forget that You often do Your greatest work behind the veil, out of sight, beyond our reach—but never beyond Your will.

We pray for those right now who are weary in waiting. For those whose prayers have been long and whose answers have been slow. For those who have stood faithfully in Your courts, yet have not seen the fruit they hoped for. Strengthen them, Lord. Whisper to their hearts that You are still working. Remind them that Zacharias did not emerge unchanged. He came out marked by encounter, holding the weight of a promise, silenced by glory and destined to speak again at the naming of his son. Let us believe that we, too, will emerge from this season bearing the evidence of what You have done in secret.

Lord, let our waiting sanctify us. Let it refine our motives. Let it strip away what is shallow and draw us into deeper intimacy with You. Let the longing create space for revelation. Let the pause become a place of preparation. And even when we do not understand why the answer tarries, help us say with confidence, “My God is faithful. He is not absent. He is near. He is speaking even now.”

Let us marvel—not in confusion, but in awe. Let our marveling reflect a heart that knows You are moving even when we cannot see it. Let it be a holy pause, a reverent stillness, a recognition that we are standing at the edge of something sacred. If You are taking longer than expected, it must mean You are doing more than we can comprehend.

And so we pray for the Church today—Your people around the world who are waiting for revival, for justice, for healing, for reformation. Let us not grow impatient or divided in our delay. Let us not abandon our post outside the temple. Let us be found watching, believing, praying. Let us be the kind of people who stay when others leave, who wait even when others lose interest, who believe that when the silence breaks, it will be with a word that shakes the earth.

We also pray, Father, for the “Zacharias” You have chosen in this hour—those You have called into hidden places to receive Your word. Those who are receiving dreams, instructions, burdens, and promises in secret. May they hear You clearly. May they emerge, not with explanations, but with evidence of Your glory. May they come out of the temple carrying the next chapter of Your redemptive plan.

And may we, Your waiting people, be ready. Ready to receive. Ready to believe. Ready to embrace what You reveal—even if it is not what we expected. Because we know, Lord, that what You are doing in silence will speak loudly in time.

So here we are, God—waiting, worshiping, and marveling. We surrender our timelines. We release our agendas. We yield our anxious thoughts. And we say, “Let it be done according to Your word.”

In the name of Jesus Christ, the One who came at the appointed time, who waits with us now, and who will come again in glory, we pray.

Amen.