Two Questions at Christmas: Why Zechariah Was Silenced, and Mary Was Blessed?

I’ve often wondered why Zechariah was silenced while Mary was blessed when reading the Christmas story. Their responses seem so similar at first glance, yet God’s response to each is strikingly different.

Luke’s Gospel opens with two angelic visits, two miraculous announcements, and two people caught completely off guard—one a seasoned priest in the Temple and the other a teenage girl in Nazareth. Their stories sit side by side, inviting us to look closer, to listen deeper, and to recognize that the posture of a heart matters just as much as the words that come from it.

Both, we are told, were faithful.

Both, we are told, were favored.

Both, we are told, were startled by a message from heaven.

And both, we are told, asked a question.

Yet those two questions carried two very different heart postures—and their responses help us see the difference between doubt that resists God and wonder that welcomes Him.

Zechariah: “How will I know?”

"In the time of Herod king of Judea there was a priest named Zechariah, who belonged to the priestly division of Abijah; his wife Elizabeth was also a descendant of Aaron. Both of them were righteous in the sight of God, observing all the Lord’s commands and decrees blamelessly” (Luke 1:5–6, NIV).

I’ve learned from BEMA Discipleship that Luke includes this detail because the priesthood at this time was deeply corrupted. Although we tend to assume that priests were righteous, Israel’s history tells a different story. The Sadducees, who controlled the Temple, had become entangled with Roman power, wealth, and political influence. By telling us Zechariah and Elizabeth were righteous, Luke wants us to understand that they stood apart from the compromise of the chief priests. They chose the moral high ground of God’s law.

But when Gabriel appeared in the Temple to Zechariah, promising him a son, Zechariah asked, “How can I be sure of this?” In essence, he was asking: “What proof will you give me?” As if standing before an angel—the first one to appear in hundreds of years—wasn’t enough. Granted, if an angel appeared to me after all those years, I might question what I was seeing, too. Yet, the righteous priest had kept himself from the corruption of the Temple system, but he couldn’t keep himself from the internal corrosion that forms through years of disappointment and unanswered prayers.

Zechariah, it seems, had adjusted to the conditions of disappointment rather than the conditions of God’s promise.

Years of silence had shaped his expectations more than the Scriptures he knew by heart. His age, his unanswered prayers, and the long gap since Israel had heard from God became the lens through which he viewed his present moment. Instead of adjusting his heart to the new reality God was announcing, he adjusted his faith to the limitations he felt. And like so many of us, the conditions around him became louder than the voice speaking to him.

His reasoning even sounded reasonable: “I am an old man and my wife is well along in years” (Luke 1:18, NIV). But as a priest, he knew the stories of Sarah, Rebekah, Rachel, Samson’s mother, Hannah, and the Shunammite woman—six barren women who conceived by God’s intervention. He had the history; he just couldn’t see his life fitting into that story anymore. How often do we do the same? When God speaks a word to us, we measure it against our limitations instead of His faithfulness.

Then Gabriel reassured him with clarity: “Do not be afraid, Zechariah; your prayer has been heard" (Luke 1:13).

• Your wife will bear you a son.

• You will call him John.

• He will be a joy and delight.

• He will be filled with the Holy Spirit.

• He will turn hearts back to God.

• He will prepare the way for the Lord.

The message couldn’t have been clearer. Zechariah’s question wasn’t about understanding the promise; it was about verifying it. He wanted assurance before he would believe.

Why wasn't Abraham disciplined when he asked God how he would gain possession of the land (Genesis 15:8)? Because"Abraham’s question preceded the giving of the sign; Zechariah’s came after Gabriel announced it unambiguously."(BibleHub.com) Zechariah asked for a sign to stabilize his faith, prompting Gabriel to answer with another clear message: “You did not believe my words.”

Zechariah’s resistance came from a heart worn down by years of waiting. He had prayed for a child. He had hoped. He had endured. And when hope finally arrived, he struggled to receive it. Is it possible that we live by the same conditions?

Mary: “How can this be?”

Six months later, another angelic visit takes place—this time far from the Temple courts and priestly garments. Not to a seasoned man of God, but to a teenage girl in the small, overlooked town of Nazareth. Nazareth was the kind of place people dismissed. Nathanael once asked if anything good could come from there (John 1:46). And Mary? She was the kind of person society wouldn’t notice at all—a young woman with little voice or rights in her culture. People easily adjust to the conditions of small towns and seemingly insignificant lives, but God does not adjust to our conditions. He operates by His own.

When Gabriel appeared to Zechariah, we are told he was "startled and gripped with fear" (Luke 1:12) but Mary is “greatly troubled,” yet attentive. Both are told by Gabriel to "fear not." She listens as he declares she is favored, seen, and chosen. Then he speaks the impossible: “You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus” (Luke 1:31, NIV).

"Zechariah’s 'How can I be sure?' (kata ti gnōsomai touto) requests proof of truthfulness; Mary’s “How will this be?” (pōs estai touto) asks for process." (Biblehub.com) Her question wasn’t rooted in doubt but in wonder. She wasn’t asking for proof; she was asking for understanding. And who could blame her? There was no precedent for this. Unlike Zechariah, who had history to glean from, she had no barren-woman story to look back on. There had never been a prophetic pattern of a virgin conceiving. Nothing in her Scriptures prepared her for what God was inviting her into.

Zechariah doubted something he had seen in the Bible many times. Mary believed something no one had ever seen before. Then Gabriel explained the process—not to convince her, but to reassure her: “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you…” (vs 31).

Mary didn’t adjust to the conditions of cultural impossibility or her own inexperience. She adjusted to the conditions of God’s presence and promise. Where Zechariah measured God’s words against his limitations, Mary measured her limitations against God’s power.

She allowed her fear to be overshadowed. She allowed her questions to be held by God. She allowed her heart to open to something unimaginable. And then she spoke one of the most courageous sentences in all of Scripture: “I am the Lord’s servant…May your word to me be fulfilled” (Luke 1:38 NIV).

Mary’s posture wasn’t one of resistance, but of surrender. Not self-protection, but trust. Not doubt, but holy availability. Her “yes” did not mean she understood everything. It meant she trusted the One who did. Mary adjusted her heart to God’s will, even when she couldn’t predict the outcome.

Zechariah teaches us that disappointment can shape our expectations more than Scripture if we’re not careful. Mary teaches us that trust can shape our faith more than understanding.

Zechariah struggled to adjust to conditions shaped by years of silence. Mary adjusted to conditions created by a single word from God.

Zechariah needed proof before believing. Mary believed before she had any proof.

Which one do you most relate to? Do you need proof before you are willing to believe God can do what He promises? Or are you like Mary—willing to believe, even when you don’t yet understand how God will bring it to pass?

During this Christmas season, I pray that if past disappointment has dimmed your ability to receive new hope, you would take a courageous leap of faith and invite God to reshape your expectations with His promises. May His Word speak louder than your limitations, and may His presence create new possibilities where hope once felt lost.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. With love, Kolleen