In Luke 1, the angel Gabriel appears to two people, Zechariah and Mary – speaking promises that shift God’s story of redemption forever. 

The time had come for God’s Promised Redeemer to arrive. 

Yet, their responses upon receiving these promises contrast significantly, revealing something deeply important about the root of our questioning.

Gabriel first appears to Zechariah, a priest, declaring that his wife Elizabeth, who was advanced in years, would bear a son. Luke tells us that Zechariah and Elizabeth were righteous in the sight of God, observing all the Lord’s commands and decrees blamelessly (v6). For years, they prayed for a child – God finally answering in a way that would impact generations to come. Their son would bring back many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God (v16).

And yet, gripped by fear, asking for proof, Zechariah responds with this question:

How shall I know this?

A few verses later, Gabriel declares:

“Behold, you will be silent and unable to speak until the day these things take place, because you did not believe my words, which will be fulfilled in their time” (v20).

Because Zechariah demanded certainty, doubt and fear immobilizing him to receive the word spoken, silence fell over his mouth until the day his son was named and blessed.

How Shall I Know? How Will This Be?

In Luke 1, we see two questions brought to Gabriel.

How shall I know this? and How will this be?

At first glance, the questions seem similar, but the motivations of Zechariah and Mary are not.

Zechariah asks how he will know the promise is true.

Mary asks how the promise will be fulfilled.

Mary leans in with faith-filled curiosity.

Zechariah pulls back with guarded skepticism.

Many of us have been Zechariah at one time or another.

Long seasons of waiting can wear us down. The longer we wait, the more fragile our hope becomes. Prayers left unanswered, especially those prayed faithfully, can slowly build walls of disappointment and doubt. We begin to hide ourselves behind them, even from God, so as to not get our hopes up. We don’t want to make ourselves vulnerable to more hurt, so we stop praying or asking or hoping or believing. We might even entertain the possibility that God might not be who we thought He was. God, are you good? Are you kind? Do you care for me?, we say – afraid the answer might be, no.

But here’s what will always be true: God cares deeply about us. So much so, that He sent his son. God has not forgotten us; His affections are for us.

Zechariah and Elizabeth had waited beyond the point of expectation, and understandably, their hope was beginning to fade. The long delay had taken its toll on them, and Zechariah’s disappointment clouded his ability to trust when the answer finally came. But God— God made a way. He answered their prayers. Zechariah hesitated in his receiving of it, but their son arrived, and he indeed brought many back to the Lord.

Grounding Our Questioning with Trust

I don’t know what you’re waiting for.

I don’t know what hopes and prayers feel too fragile to keep placing before God. I don’t know the extent of your despair or the aching of your heart, whether it’s for a family member’s healing, a child you long to mother/father, a person you long to love and build a life with, or for things to just plainly get better. But I do know this: God’s faithfulness doesn’t rest on our faith. He will do what He says He will do; our sustained pursuit of Him, asking for His help to build up our faith and trust in Him, just might impact the joy we experience in the midst of our waiting.

Fear, when left unchecked, can overshadow faith.

Doubt, without wisdom weighing it out, quenches our joy.

Finding these things in Zechariah’s heart doesn’t make him a villain, nor does it make him someone we shouldn’t be like. It makes him human, and reminds us that God brings miracles and signs and wonders and hopes and dreams come to life through imperfect people who don’t have it all figured out. He, too, reminds us that perfect faith and trust aren’t the conditions required for the Lord to answer prayers. 

Deep in the heart of humanity is a vulnerable place where disappointment, self-protection, and doubt can take root. When God’s Word pierces that place—living and active, sharper than a double-edged sword—it may first meet confusion or apprehension. The invitation is not to stop questioning, but to question with faith.

Mary believed so that she could understand. She understood so that she could obey. This is faith. This is the root of questioning, grounded in trust, built over years of turning to God in uncertainty and vulnerability – and finding Him to be trustworthy.

Zechariah’s search for understanding revealed calloused hope from years of unmet expectations and unanswered prayers. His fear overshadowed his trust, not because of rebellion, but out of weariness.

Perhaps that’s where you find yourself today.

If so, take heart. God is not afraid of our questions. He just invites us to examine where they come from. Are they rooted in trust, or in fear? Curiosity, or self-protection?

May we learn to ask like Mary, believing first, and trusting the One who speaks things into being. May faith in Him lead us to understanding, so that we can enjoy the fullness of His presence in every season.