By Michael Pakaluk

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Now for today's column...

Anyone who prays the Divine Office will say the Benedictus each morning, as it is the closing hymn of Lauds (Morning Prayer). It's also called "The Canticle of Zechariah," the father of John the Baptist, who sang the Benedictus ("Blessed be God") when his infant son was circumcised, on the eighth day.

More precisely, he sang it after the ceremony of naming. If the ancient Jewish practice was like current practice: first, the baby was circumcised, which act was understood to place him within the covenant of Abraham. Then, his father would declare the baby's name, which the parents would have kept secret until then.

A circumcision ceremony was a festive gathering of friends and relatives. Apparently, it was so obvious to the crowd there that the baby was to be called "Zechariah" after his dad, that they started saying that name spontaneously, as if it were a settled fact. (Luke 1:59) Zechariah was still mute: therefore, it was left to the mother, Elizabeth, to contradict them: "Not so; but he shall be called John." (v. 60, Douay-Rheims) It was a fitting role for her to assume anyway, because she was the one who had believed the words of the angel.

And yet it was the father who had final authority over the name (as when Joseph would later name Jesus). Therefore, they turned to Zechariah.

About this, Luke writes, curiously, "They made signs to his father, how he would have him called," which has puzzled the commentators. After all, it was Zechariah who was mute: why did they need to make signs? And the best answers are that Zechariah was punished with deafness as well as muteness; or that the crowd made the very human mistake of supposing that they needed to communicate with him "in his language." If the latter, then how endearing that Luke passes on this little detail, which would have been recalled by everyone there, clearly, as a silly misapprehension!

A writing tablet was at hand. And in this, there is a lesson, because writing tablets then were like scratch pads now. They were always at hand, and therefore apostles such as Matthew, a recorder by trade, would have been writing things down on them all the time. But these tablets of wax and thin wood were frail and have not survived from classical times except under unusual circumstances, e.g., if they were left in cool, dry caves.

So, Zechariah takes the tablet and writes, "John is his name." Luke says the crowd "wondered" at it. They marveled; they were puzzled; they were amazed. In the gospels, amazement is the typical reaction of a crowd, superficial and unthinking, when they encounter something strange.

Just then, however, Zechariah regains his ability to speak. Tellingly, his first words are not "John is his name," but rather he blesses God! And now the crowd responds, rather, with fear, because they recognize that some numinous power is at work, right there, among them.

This newfound fear has instilled some sense in them, because they see that the miracle was worked not as much for the father, as to point towards the newly-named son: "What do you suppose this child will be?" they ask one another.

Zechariah answers their question, and this is his Canticle or Hymn. He spoke those words as prophecy, being "filled with th...