Luke 1:1–80

The life of the Lord Jesus Christ on earth showed the Word made flesh... The only Son of the Father, who made God known by all He did and said, was walking about among people. No wonder then, as Luke has told us, that "many have undertaken to compile a narrative of the things that have been accomplished among us." It was only natural that people wrote accounts, to keep the memory of what the Lord Jesus said and did... Records about Him were clearly many.

He lets us know that there were many of these accounts. They rested on what was handed down by those who were eyewitnesses from the beginning and servants of the word. These works have gone; they were human. They meant well, no doubt. These were not people twisting the truth on purpose. They were people trying, in their own wisdom, to set out what only God could make known rightly.

"It seemed good to me also" stands in contrast with these many that had taken it in hand. They had done the work in their own way; he did it in another... He states that they depended on those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and ministers of the word. He says nothing of the kind about himself, though some have hastily read that into the phrase "to me also"... he does not say that his account came from eyewitnesses. He says he knows everything thoroughly from the very first, but never tells us how he came to know it.

Luke's introduction shows that he wanted to give exact information in this letter to Theophilus. Yet he had not thought of himself as a man whom God was inspiring... But God had decided that Luke would write Scripture, and took hold of him for that purpose. Luke did not realise that God was inspiring him. So we may expect depths and beauties in this book that Luke himself had not designed.

In this way God has taught the whole church. He teaches it through the picture of the Lord's life that this man of God gives us. Christian motives moved Luke himself, while the Holy Spirit guided and inspired him for the good of all believers.

In the opening verses Luke states why he is writing his Gospel. He wanted to bring certainty to the mind of one man who had come to faith from outside Israel... Understanding that order, and having the facts in writing, would bring certainty to Theophilus. It will bring the same certainty to us. We see here how certainty comes with the Holy Writings — the Word of God. If we did not have the Holy Writings, we should have certainty about nothing.

The Gospels were written for believers — this one first of all for a man named Theophilus, so that he could be sure of the things he had been taught. He had the instruction, and this was to make it all quite certain to him. No church stands in between to interpret it for him.

Luke presents the Man of Sorrows — the Man who knew grief — and the good pleasure of God... It has been well said that the story begins with a silent priest, an empty temple and a childless home. It ends with a fruitful company praising God in the temple.

The phrase "from the beginning" carries the same force of time here as it does elsewhere. It never means "in the beginning," even when it is used of Him who is also the Eternal One. By its very nature it points to a relation in time. We see this in Luke 1:2, where "those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and ministers of the word" can only mean from the time Christ was shown openly in public testimony. So the phrase cannot refer to eternity. It refers to what its witnesses saw in time.

In His grace the Lord did stoop to use eyewitnesses, so that people would have no excuse for not believing. That is true and precious. But it is completely false to say that the trustworthiness of what Scripture says is "grounded not on any inspiration."

hypēretēs means "under-rower," and so an "attendant" on, or "assistant" to, someone in higher authority. Luke 1:2; Luke 4:20; Acts 13:5; Acts 26:16; 1 Cor. 4:1. It is also translated 'officer' and 'servant.'

The word used for "ministers" points to a lower place — a fitting attitude for a man who set out to write about the Man Christ Jesus! Scripture shows the close link between Luke and the apostle Paul, so it is no surprise that Paul speaks of himself in the same way: "This is how one should regard us, as servants of Christ" (1 Corinthians 4:1 — older translations read "ministers of Christ," the same word used here).

"Of the word" (logou) — that is, ministry, as in Acts 6:2. Wright takes the "ministers" to be teachers who gave instruction in the faith. Compare the use of hypēretēs in Luke 4:20, which speaks of the synagogue attendant, whose job was to give such teaching. The same two Greek words occur together again in Acts 13:5. […] Origen and Athanasius took logos here in the sense of John 1:1.

The word for "delivered" (paredosan) in Luke 1:2 comes from the same root as the word for "tradition" (paradosis)… Such tradition could be either spoken or written; here we are dealing with the spoken kind. It began with "the apostles' teaching" (Acts 2:42)… One early writer tells us that Christians of his day preferred "the living voice" to written statements. That may be one reason our Gospels were written so late.

"To us" is quite different from "to me also," and matches "among us." Many had set in order an account of what believers held for certain, following the report eyewitnesses gave them. It seemed good to Luke to do the same, and then he states what qualified him. So "to us" includes Luke as a Christian. It does not mark him out as a writer.

Luke does not say one word about setting out in order what eyewitnesses had handed down. Others, he says, had done that. But that was not enough. He wrote his Gospel so that Theophilus might have certainty from him, who had "perfect knowledge" of all things. That is a clear statement that his account was infallible — free from error — and if so, it was inspired, for no human account on its own can be free from error.

Luke had followed these things from the beginning, and so gained exact knowledge about them. He thought it well to write methodically to Theophilus, so that Theophilus might have certainty about the things he had been taught. This is how God has provided teaching for the whole church. That teaching lies in the picture of the Lord's life given by this man of God. Christian motives moved this man personally, and the Holy Spirit directed and inspired him for the good of all believers.

Luke's introduction shows that he was concerned about giving exact information in this letter to Theophilus. But he had not thought of being an instrument directly inspired by God... God had ordered that Luke was to write Scripture, and He laid hold of him for this purpose. Luke never realized that God was inspiring him. Therefore we may expect depths and beauties in this book that Luke himself had not designed.

The word translated "having had perfect knowledge" in Luke 1 is the same word as in 2 Timothy 3:10. There Paul says Timothy had fully known everything about him. Now this means "personal acquaintance with." Luke said he had this from the outset. He does not say how, and I do not pretend to say. Others got their accounts from eyewitnesses. Luke does not say that about himself. He only says that he had thorough, personal, detailed and accurate acquaintance with everything from the very beginning.

Now Luke does not say a word about setting in order what eyewitnesses have delivered: others, he said, had done that. But that was not enough. He wrote his Gospel so that Theophilus might have certainty from him, the man who had "perfect knowledge" of all things. This is surely a clear statement that his account was infallible. And if it was infallible, it must have been inspired, for no human account can be infallible.

God had given him a perfect understanding of all things from the outset. So now he wrote them "in order," or "with method." We shall see as we go on that he sometimes ignores historical order. Instead he presents things in a method that is moral and spiritual. Understanding that moral and spiritual order, along with having the facts clearly in writing, would bring certainty to Theophilus, as it will to us.

Another thing is remarkable. Examine the Gospel and you will find that Luke states circumstances not according to their chronological order, but according to their moral connection. The necessary facts of His birth and death are the exception. This gives us a most important key to interpretation.

Theophilus appears to have been a man of rank, probably a Roman governor. This seems to be why Luke calls him here "Most Excellent," or, as we might say, His Excellency. It relates to official position, not to his character morally as a man. It is clear he was a believer, but only partly instructed. The Evangelist's object here was to give him a fuller understanding of "the way."

Further, we have never heard of anyone, in old or modern times, who imagines the name to be a made-up label for anyone who loves God. Compare the Gospel with Acts: the writer addresses both to a living Christian. And if the name were only a label, the form of the word would have been philotheos (as in Timotheus or the like), and not Theophilos.

Luke was led by God as one who had a thirst and loving desire for the good of Theophilus, and he fittingly addresses this Gospel to him: and we shall find this in keeping with its character throughout. It was not for him only, of course, but for the lasting instruction of the Church; yet none the less was it written to him.

This, I believe, is why Luke alone opens his Gospel by addressing one particular man. Matthew could not have addressed his Gospel to a man and kept it true to its purpose and character; and you cannot imagine Mark or John doing it either… Of course it was not for Theophilus only, but for the lasting instruction of the Church; yet it was still written to him. Theophilus lay on the heart of that godly man, so that he might be taught the things of God.

So God has provided for the teaching of the whole church, through the doctrine held in the picture of the Lord's life that this man of God gives us. Christian motives moved him personally, and the Holy Spirit guided and inspired him for the good of all believers.

Luke does not intend to enlarge the knowledge of Theophilus, but to confirm it.

"You have been instructed" (katechethes), that is "catechised," as said of Apollos in Acts 18:25… Wright asks: "Did the Gospel originate in the pulpit or in the schoolroom?"

It must have been very much the instruction that now is given in Bible classes for adults and in Sunday schools or children's services.

The preached word works in people, and they turn to the written word for "the certainty of the things" they believed, as Luke's Gospel puts it. So the written word gave certainty where the teaching, the living voice, had already been. It was not the teacher interpreting the word and giving it living power. It was the word giving certainty about what they had been taught.

"The certainty" (asphaleian). Compare Luke's use of to asphales in Acts 22:30. A man who is to give certainty to others must first have it himself. How can anyone question this Gospel writer's claim and still sound reasonable?

People who do not believe in inspiration often object here. They say the writer of this introduction stands on the ground of an eyewitness and nothing more. But Luke does not say a word about setting out in order what eyewitnesses had delivered. Others, he said, had done that. That was not enough. He wrote his Gospel so that Theophilus might have certainty from him — the man who had "perfect knowledge" of all things. That is a clear statement that his account was infallible. And if so, it was certainly inspired, for no human account can be infallible.

As we go on we will see that he sometimes ignores historical order, so as to present things in a way that is moral and spiritual. Understanding that moral and spiritual order, and having the facts clearly in writing, would bring certainty to Theophilus, and it will bring it to us too. We see here how certainty is linked with the Holy Writings — the Word of God. If we did not have the Holy Writings, we would be certain of nothing.

After this address to his friend, by way of introduction, Luke enters on his subject, great and blessed as it is, with all possible simplicity. Nothing can be more perfect in its season... It is like a simple story being told, a tale of other days, when truth used to be plain and unvarnished. The mind is held for a moment, charmed by the plainness of it — and yet by the skill of the divine hand, which leads the thoughts so gently into the deepest and most wonderful scenes.

The Herods came from Idumea, and the Roman government made them rulers in name over Judea and Galilee. The name Idumea is the Greek equivalent of Edom, the land of the descendants of Esau. So the position of the Jews in the days of the Gospels was humiliating in the extreme. They were not only under the rule of the Gentile power at Rome, but a son of Esau ruled over them in the land. This order was not what God announced from the beginning — that, of Jacob and his brother, the "older shall serve the younger" (Gen. 25:23). But through the unfaithfulness of the chosen people, this divine order was reversed for the time, and Esau had the upper hand, though he was an enemy of God and His truth.

Ezra restored the courses of the priests and Levites when the people came back from captivity (Ezra 6:18), and we find them still in operation in the New Testament. Zacharias, the father of John the Baptist, was of the course of Abia. This no doubt refers to Abijah, the eighth name listed in 1 Chronicles 24:10. At the end of his service he returned to his house (Luke 1:5, 23). The length of service was a week, beginning from the Sabbath.

There might be a foreign prince over them — an Edomite — and high priests in strange confusion, as we shall see shortly. Yet for all that, there was a priest properly married to one of the daughters of Aaron: Zacharias, of the course of Abia... The state of Israel was low, and outwardly most irregular. Still, in the middle of it all there were godly ones. The only thing that enabled anyone to walk in such a way in Israel was the faith of the coming Messiah, and this at least had not disappeared. On the contrary, God's Spirit was working in the hearts of a few, preparing them for the One who was coming.

Luke begins by speaking of the priesthood in Israel in the days of Herod. But he passes by the high priest and the other prominent men. He singles out Zacharias, an otherwise very ordinary priest, and his wife Elizabeth, both of the line of Aaron... They had no child and were advanced in age. So they were a fitting picture of Israel's condition of desolation, out of which only the grace of God can bring blessing.

For about 400 years the Lord had sent no communication to His people Israel. At last God breaks the silence of heaven... The names of the aged and devout couple are significant. Zacharias means "Jehovah remembers," and Elizabeth means "the oath of God." Join the two together and you have the sentence "Jehovah remembers the oath of God." The time of remembrance had come. Prophecy is about to be fulfilled.

Israel's state was low, and on the outside very disordered. Yet in the middle of it all there were godly ones. Only one thing enabled anyone in Israel to walk that way: faith in the coming Messiah. That faith at least had not disappeared. God's Spirit was working in the hearts of a few, preparing them for the One who was coming. Zacharias and Elisabeth were among these few. They were expecting in faith, and where that is real, it gives power to walk rightly. The only souls who walked well, even according to the law, were those who looked beyond the law to Christ. Those who merely rested in the law broke it, though the law might be their boast.

This is not the righteousness of God that believers have in the Lord Jesus through His work on the cross, which we often speak about. It is practical righteousness. Do we do what is right in the sight of the Lord on a daily basis? … Secondly, Zacharias and Elizabeth walked according to Scripture. They walked in all the commandments and statutes of the Lord. To do this, we need to know God's Word as a whole — not just a few favourite verses — and apply it to our lives. … Thirdly, Zacharias and Elizabeth walked in the fear of the Lord, blameless. That is, they were afraid of doing anything that was displeasing to God. What an example! They did not talk much; they did not have a long sermon prepared for John, their son, to read. No, they walked, which speaks of the life they led.

The word amemptos (from a, "not," and memphomai, "to blame") means "without blame." In his former life Paul had nothing to accuse himself of when it came to the righteousness of the law (Phil. 3:6). Zacharias and his wife were irreproachable (Luke 1:6). The saints too should be irreproachable (Phil. 2:15; 1 Thess. 3:13). Had the first covenant been "faultless," there would have been no place for a second (Heb. 8:7).

This is the lovely picture the Holy Spirit paints, without one wrong stroke: a few people in Jerusalem, in the middle of decay and spiritual death, who "feared the Lord, spoke often to one another, and thought upon His name." They stood outside the activity of the day, and those in power and influence did not know them. But the Lord knew them, and they knew one another. That was enough for their souls. Their hearts were fixed on "the consolation of Israel," "the Lord's Christ." He was enough to satisfy their every desire, and He was the object of all their hopes.

It was not their righteousness that opened heaven to them, but their need and infirmities. Elizabeth was barren, and by now they were both old. Their point of real blessing lay right there — in their sorrow and weakness. For to the barren wife and the childless husband Gabriel comes with a word of promise from heaven.

This is the heart of man. It is the heart of even such an honoured man as Zacharias, a man with a remarkable record: "righteous before God, walking blamelessly in all the commandments and statutes of the Lord." And yet he was not willing to take Gabriel at his word! Are we any better? … Only we are worse. It is the word of the Lord God Himself that we so often hesitate to take just as it stands, without a question.

But we find ourselves at once in a Jewish setting. The Jewish ordinances of the Old Testament, and the thoughts and hopes tied to them, are the frame around this great and solemn event. Herod, king of Judea, gives us the date. The first person we meet on the way is a priest, righteous and blameless, who belongs to one of the twenty-four groups.

It was the "heads of their fathers' houses" (1 Chronicles 24:4) who served in these priestly courses by turn. They were elders who represented the priesthood, because there were too many priests for all of them to serve in the temple. The work of Zacharias was to burn incense in the temple, where only priests could enter. So he acted as a go-between: the people prayed while he made intercession. This was God's order in Israel, very different from the order now in the Church of God.

Ezra restored the courses of the priests and Levites when the people came back from captivity (Ezra 6:18), and we find them still working in the New Testament. Zacharias, the father of John the Baptist, belonged to the course of Abia. This almost certainly means Abijah, the eighth name listed in 1 Chronicles 24:10. When his service ended he went home (Luke 1:5, 23). Each turn of service lasted a week, starting from the Sabbath (2 Chronicles 23:8).

So here at the start we find a distinctly Jewish scene. Zacharias is a priest in one of the courses (the eighth) set up by King David... The godliness of Zacharias and his wife Elisabeth, the seriousness of the priestly service he was carrying out, and the waiting people standing outside — all of this gives a glimpse of the reality that was still left inside a system full of empty formality. The phrase "in the days of Herod the king" points to that: times of lawless indulgence in sin, covered over with an outward show of careful ceremony.

Luke 1 confirms it. The priesthood had been kept up, and we see a priest serving "before God in the order of his course".

They had prayed about it, as we find later on. Zacharias seems even to have lost sight of his own prayer, but God had not. And so "it came to pass, as he fulfilled his priestly service before God in the order of his course" — for here he was faithful to the demand of daily duty — "it fell to him by lot, according to the custom of the priesthood, to enter into the temple of the LORD to burn incense."

The morning breaks, the heavens open, and the dreary wastelands of Israel are visited again. All of this happens in an instant. There are no messengers sent ahead, no wonderful signs of the coming change. The priest is at the usual altar, the people are in their usual places, and life is running its ordinary daily course.

Luke begins by speaking of the priesthood in Israel in the days of Herod. But he passes over the high priest and the other prominent men. He singles out Zacharias, an otherwise very ordinary priest, and his wife Elizabeth. Both came from the priestly line of Aaron, and both were comparatively righteous before God and blameless as far as the law went (v.6). Zacharias means "God has remembered." Elizabeth means "God has sworn." The names fit exactly, because God was about to keep His great promise about the Messiah.

"It came to pass, as he fulfilled his priestly service before God in the order of his course" — for here he was faithful to the requisition of daily duty — "it fell to him by lot, according to the custom of the priesthood, to enter into the temple of the LORD to burn incense."

David set up the twenty-four courses of the priesthood, as 1 Chronicles 24 records. The course of Abia (or Abijah) was the eighth of them. In the times of the Gospels each course served as priests in the temple of the Lord for one week at a time... On any given day, at both the morning and the evening sacrifice, the priests cast four lots. The lots decided who would prepare the altar, who would kill the sacrifice, who would offer the incense, and who would burn the sacrifice on the altar. The third lot, to offer the incense, was the most coveted and could fall to any priest only once in his lifetime.

So Zacharias comes into the temple in the order of his course, and the lot falls to him to burn incense when he goes in. The lot is the expression of the sovereign will of God, which in man's extremity has ever been his resource.

Incense is the fragrance of Christ to God — perhaps not the fragrance of atonement, but of Christ Himself. And that is what is in view here. Later it becomes clear that atonement must be by His blood... yet in fact, when He did come, the need for His death was kept well in the background... the incense came before the blood, just as it did on the day of atonement.

How appropriate that he should be offering incense in the temple at the very time when God announces to him, through an angel, the beginning of the fulfilment of His purposes. The true Priest would appear in the true sanctuary. There He would offer up what will be an eternal fragrance before God — the excellence of His own person.

Is there not something significant about the place where God sent this message to Zacharias? He stood in the holy place as the priestly remnant, though fruitless as far as Jewish hopes went. This was not like a prophecy announced to the world by an inspired man. "Entering into the temple of the Lord," i.e., the holy place... everything else, even the area holding the altar of burnt sacrifice, is called "outside."

The work of Zacharias was to burn incense in the temple where only priests could enter. So he acted as a go-between: the people prayed while he prayed for them inside. This was God's order in Israel, and it is very different from God's order now in the Church.

When the temple system began, the lot fell to other priests to burn incense, as we see in Luke 1:9... Our privilege, as priests of God, is not only to enter the holy place. We may go right into the holiest of all, through the blood of Jesus, and there we worship before the face of God.

Is there not something significant in the place where this message came to Zacharias? He stood as the priestly remnant, but fruitless according to Jewish hopes, in the holy place. It was not like a prophecy sent out by an inspired man to the world. "Entering into the temple of the Lord" means the holy place. It matches "the house" in Solomon's temple proper. The rest, where even the altar of burnt sacrifice stood, is called "without." Taking the circumstances into account, the wording is clear and telling.

To Israel belonged the service of God, but it was a worship of relative nearness to God. The high priest was nearest, and the priests came next. These were inside worshippers. The Levites came after them, attendants on the priests, employed about the tabernacle. Then came the people, who were outside worshippers. As Scripture says, "the whole multitude of the people were praying outside at the hour of incense" (Luke 1:10). But even there, even in the outer court, no Gentile could approach.

A temple speaks of distance between God and the worshipper, whatever privileges of access and worship go with it. That was the case in the temple of the kingdom. The Lord did indeed dwell in it, between the cherubim over the mercy seat. But the worshippers stayed outside while the priest burned incense in the holy place (see Luke 1:10). So we read that there is no temple in the heavenly Jerusalem. Instead, the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are its temple. We understand at once that all distance is gone.

The work of Zacharias was to burn incense in the temple, where only priests could enter. He was therefore an intermediary: the people prayed while he made intercession. This was God's order in Israel, so different from what exists now in the Church of God.

What was done at this golden altar also pictures some of the great privileges of believers, the "holy priesthood" of this present age. The wonderful incense pictured the incomparable excellencies of the person and work of our Lord. Prayer and the offering of incense are closely connected (see Psalm 141:2, Luke 1:10, Revelation 8:3). So we are reminded that acceptable prayer and praise must always be in His name and fragrant with Him.

The incense burnt on the golden altar at the time of prayer (Luke 1:10) symbolised the perfect acceptance of Christ giving power to the people's petitions... from this golden altar of incense the prayers of the remnant for deliverance and judgment rise to God, perfumed with all the fragrance of Christ, and draw down a swift answer.

All that is best in Judaism comes out here. The godliness of Zacharias and his wife Elisabeth, the seriousness of the priestly service he was doing, the attitude of the waiting people outside — all give a glimpse of the reality still left in the middle of what was full of formalism and emptiness. The phrase "in the days of Herod the king" suggests as much: times of lawless indulgence in sin with an outward show of ceremonial correctness.

They had prayed about it, as we find later. Though Zacharias seems even to have lost sight of his own prayer, yet God had not... "And all the multitude of the people were praying outside at the hour of incense." We have here a full and vivid picture of what was going on then in Israel.

When the priest Zacharias went into the temple, the whole crowd acknowledged the power of his entrance there. They were outside, praying at the time of incense... So here the risen Son of Man enters within the cloud, as within the veil of the true temple. The people outside acknowledge the power of His ascension there. They look after Him again, and worship.

For about 400 years the Lord had sent no communication to His people Israel. The silence of heaven is at last broken. Zacharias the priest, serving in the temple, sees the angel Gabriel. He is the same wonderful being who brought heaven's messages to Daniel. The names of the aged and pious couple are significant. Zacharias means "Jehovah remembers." Elizabeth means "the oath of God." Put the two names together and they read: "Jehovah remembers the oath of God." The time of remembrance had come. Prophecy is about to come true.

It is very beautiful to see how God breaks 400 years of silence. He speaks to Zacharias in the temple about the Forerunner. The curtain lifts, and He lets us see the faithful remnant. There had been such a remnant all through those 400 years.

They had prayed for a child, as we find later. Though Zacharias seems even to have lost sight of his own prayer, yet God had not... Here he was faithful to the requirement of daily duty... "And there appeared to him an angel of the Lord standing on the right side of the altar of incense." In this form such a visit was unknown for a long while. It was a gracious intervention of God. This was not just an occasional visit to heal the sicknesses and weaknesses of the people, as we find in another Gospel. It was for the more glorious purpose of announcing the forerunner of the Messiah Himself.

Zacharias, then, at the incense-altar sees the angel of the Lord. He stands at the right side of the altar — the right hand of power. The power of what the altar speaks of is with him. And his visit, as we see at once, expresses the sweet fragrance of Christ to God.

The godly priest had often prayed for this blessing, but until now the answer had been delayed. Now, at the moment of his regular service, Zacharias drew near to burn incense. By the law, that incense was to go up as a sweet fragrance before God — a picture of the Lord's intercession. While the people were praying outside the holy place, the angel of the Lord appears to the priest on the right side of the altar of incense.

How fitting that he should be offering incense in the temple at the very time when God announces to him, through an angel, the first beginnings of the fulfilment of His purposes. Those purposes would be fulfilled when the true Priest appeared in the true sanctuary. There He would offer up an eternal fragrance in the presence of God — the excellence of His own person.

Things were low indeed in Judah, the fruit of Israel's sin. But God had not forgotten His promise, and He did not delay keeping it. If He fixes a time, He keeps to it... He announced to Daniel the date from which the weeks of years must run before Messiah the Prince would be cut off. That moment was now near. So Gabriel came to earth again and appeared in the temple, by the altar of incense.

For about 400 years the Lord had sent no communication to His people Israel. The silence of heaven is at last broken. The serving priest Zacharias sees the angel Gabriel. This is the same wonderful being who brought heaven's messages to Daniel. The names of the aged and pious couple are significant. Zacharias means "Jehovah remembers," and Elizabeth means "the oath of God." If we join them together we have the sentence "Jehovah remembers the oath of God." The time of remembrance had come. Prophecy is about to be fulfilled.

A visit like this had been unknown for a long time. It was a gracious intervention of God. It was not merely occasional relief for the healing of sicknesses and weaknesses of the people, as we find in another Gospel. It was for the more glorious purpose of announcing the forerunner of the Messiah Himself.

He was frightened; so is every man when God gets near to him. Sinner, you will get frightened when you have the sense that God draws near to you. Jacob was afraid when God drew near on the night he was left alone by the river. The shepherds were afraid when God sent the angels to tell them the Saviour was born. Cornelius was afraid. There never was a man yet who was not afraid when the Lord drew near. Conscience tells him — just as conscience told me — that a sinner in his sins is not fit for God.

The law does not produce intimacy with God, any more than it produces fruit. Zacharias was an outstandingly godly man, yet when he saw the angel he "was troubled, and fear fell upon him." Finally, the law does not produce confidence; grace alone calls that out. Mary was not only pious, but humble and simple — an object of grace, and not an exponent of the law. "You have found favour with God," said the angel.

Yet fear falls upon Zacharias. This cannot surprise us. We who belong to God misread His goodness like this far too often. God means us good, and we charge Him with evil. We have not fully learned the lesson of His love, so the fear that brings torment takes hold of us. How often He has to say to us, "Fear not," when He is about to give us perhaps the very blessing we have long sought.

Zacharias had been serving the Lord in the temple, as others, and the angel's visit was a surprise to him. He was not quite prepared for it. Listen to the angel's language: "Fear not." Does the thought of nearness to God awaken alarm in your soul? Very right that it should, in one sense. We are all creatures in revolt against God, but how blessed to see God quieting such alarms! The angel speaks the mind of God: "Fear not." Can your heart let in the comfort of that?

This word is heard above all at those solemn moments when weak, frail human beings of flesh are called to meet God. Even when He reveals Himself only by a mighty angel, a messenger from heaven, the soul He speaks to is deeply troubled. Like Zacharias or Mary, it needs this very comforting word: "Fear not."

But they had no child, because Elizabeth was barren, and both were advanced in years. They had prayed about it, as we find later. Though Zacharias seems even to have lost sight of his own prayer, God had not... Was it so strange, after all, that this son should be born beyond nature to this godly couple? No one could have expected such a thing. But once it is announced as God's intention, our hearts see how wise and fitting it is.

This, we may suppose, was a prayer he had prayed for a long time. The Lord had a better purpose for Zacharias than his own, though this was indeed an answer to that prayer.

The answer to his prayer had surely been long in coming. But now the delay was explained, as he learned who his son was to be. God answers prayer at the right time. All may now see the reason for the delay. God's purposes are carried out in His appointed way.

"John" means "Favour of Jehovah." It fits beautifully with the names of Zacharias and Elizabeth. Together those two names say, "Jehovah remembers the oath of God," and the blessed result of that remembering is "the Favour of Jehovah." Gabriel — the name means "God is mighty" — announces that Zacharias' prayer had been heard. The answer was now given. The prayers of many years had not been forgotten. God's time for the answer had come.

Zacharias had asked for a son. He got an answer that his son should be the immediate forerunner of the long-expected Messiah... Far beyond the aged priest's desires or ideas God was about to go. The son he asked for would not come to serve in his father's place in the sanctuary at Jerusalem. He would come to bow the hearts of multitudes like reeds before the wind, and to make ready a people for the Lord.

Unbelief works in such a subtle way. Believers often pray, and pray hard, yet the last thing they seem to expect is that God will grant what they ask! Old Zacharias had prayed that he might have a son; so it appears from Luke 1:13. He had faith to pray, but not faith to believe that God would grant his prayer. When the angel Gabriel tells him that his prayer is heard, and that his wife will bear him a son, he does not rejoice and worship. He asks, "How shall I know this?" But our God is very gracious. For this unbelief He disciplines Zacharias by taking away his speech for a time, yet He still does not withhold the answer to his prayer.

As to Daniel so to Zacharias, Gabriel came in answer to prayer, and both times God let him announce more than had been asked. Daniel was concerned about the end of the captivity. He got an answer that looks on to the future and final deliverance of his people. Zacharias had asked for a son. He got an answer that his son would be the immediate forerunner of the long-expected Messiah. His prayer was heard. His wife would bear a son, bringing joy to the father's heart and causing many to rejoice at his birth. His name was to be John, a reminder of God's graciousness. He was to be great in the sight of the Lord… God was about to go far beyond the aged priest's desires or ideas.

The answer to his prayer had certainly been long in coming. But the delay was now explained, as he learned who his son was to be. God answers prayer at the right time.

Yet fear falls upon Zacharias: sadly, this cannot surprise us. We are far too used to His own people misreading His goodness like this. God means us good, and we charge Him with evil. Because we have not fully learned the lesson of His love, the fear that brings torment takes hold of us. How often He has to say to us, "Fear not," when He is about to give us perhaps the very blessing we have long sought.

This is true at least of Zacharias. The angel has to tell him that his prayer is heard, and that a son will be born to him — a joy not to himself only but to many. For the child comes, filled with the Spirit, to turn many to God in Israel. He goes before Him in the spirit and power of Elijah, to make ready a people for the Lord.

Gabriel had announced that many would rejoice at John's birth, and the historian now records how it came true (1:58)… A wonderful child was born, but a greater had yet to appear.

John's task was "to make ready for the Lord a people prepared" (1:17). If his birth was a matter of joy, the birth of the Lord Himself was a subject of even greater joy: "Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy" (2:10). The angel used the word mega: mega-joy!

And now the gospel, which began with joy (Luke 1:14), closes with joy. They "returned to Jerusalem with great joy," for the angels had assured them of the Lord's personal return. Nor could that joy be dampened, nor did they hide it, for "they were continually in the temple blessing God."

Luke has much joy, because much of grace.

The contrast between these two messages is worth noticing. John was to be "great before the Lord." Of Jesus the angel said, "He will be great." All John the Baptist's greatness depended on the Person whose coming he announced. Jesus was great in Himself and of Himself. From where I write, I can see, in the light of the rising sun, the shadow of a chestnut tree stretching out to enormous size. Yet that shadow is not a picture of the size of the tree, but a witness to the sun's rising and splendour.

This is Nazariteship, or at least the first mark of it. John could only be great before the Lord by being a Nazarite. From Numbers 6 we see that to be a Nazarite was "to separate oneself to the Lord." There were three distinct signs. First, the Nazarite kept away from wine and strong drink. Next, he let the hair of his head grow. Finally, he "came near no dead body." He gave up wine — the sign of joy in the heart of the natural man among his equals. His long hair announced that he had given up the dignity and rights of man for subjection to the will of God. And last, he avoided everything that could bring him into contact with sin, whose wages is death. … Seeing him, the world would have said, "He is a sad, gloomy man who hates people." What a mistake! This natural joy is the only joy the world knows. In the prophet's heart, the joy that close fellowship with the Saviour gives took its place. The two cannot exist together. We enjoy the second only as far as we deny ourselves the first.

It seems that John the Baptist was under this or a similar vow from birth. In Luke 1:15, abstinence from wine or strong drink is mentioned, but not the other two things. Here we have a contrast. Samson's strength was physical; John's strength was spiritual. The one lost his Nazariteship, the other kept it until he died a martyr's death.

A child can be a Nazarite, but this is the work of God. We have two instances of Nazarites from their birth: one who went on blamelessly, and another who failed sadly — John the Baptist and Samson. Samson served God, and did great things too, but he also sought and did his own will, so that his life ended in his being taken prisoner. So you see it is not everything to be in the place of a Nazarite: there must be self-denial and patient perseverance in the ways of God.

This is said of John the Baptist. Now we know he was not in the Church, but the forerunner of our Lord. He was not sealed with the Spirit nor baptized by the Spirit, but he was filled with the Spirit. Filling has to do with power and service, and John was equipped for his service from earliest childhood.

It was also God's sovereign ordering that he should be filled with the Holy Spirit from his birth. There was only one John the Baptist: it would be folly for another to aspire to be the same as he (Jer. 1:5). John would be divinely prepared for his unique service of preparing the way of the Lord.

Here it is as if the special power of the Holy Spirit were connected with Nazariteship. Many Christians imagine that to be filled with the Holy Spirit is a special favour that could only belong to privileged ones among God's people. Not at all. Every believer is a temple of the Holy Spirit, but not every believer is filled by Him. And why? Is it a lack of power on the part of the Holy Spirit? Certainly not. What is lacking, even among Christians who know deliverance, so that they are not filled with the Spirit? The reality of Nazariteship. As Ephesians 5:18 says, "Do not get drunk with wine, for that is debauchery, but be filled with the Spirit."

"He will be great before the Lord, and he must not drink wine or strong drink, and he will be filled with the Holy Spirit, even from his mother's womb." He was to be a Nazirite, separated to the Lord. That separation was not only outward; it came with inward and special power of God. "And he will turn many of the children of Israel to the Lord their God." This would be the characteristic aim of his mission — to recall them to God, from whom they had departed.

John was now to recall the people in the spirit and power of Elijah. It is repentance. It is not, of course, the great work of God in putting away sin — that could only be done by one, even Jesus the Lord. Nor is it the power of the Holy Spirit poured out on Israel. This also could only be done by Christ.

It was said of John that he should be great in the eyes of the Lord, and what made him great would be that he would "turn many of the children of Israel to the Lord their God." Other prophets had turned the people back to the law they had broken, to the Sabbath they had violated, to the sacrifices they had neglected, or to the Temple they had defiled. But when John the Baptist came, the nation had broken down completely, and that whole era was about to end. So he turns their hearts to the Lord Jesus Christ — the One who was coming.

In verses 6, 9, 11, 15, 16 and 17, "Lord" is the equivalent of the Old Testament "Jehovah," so the coming of the Messiah is to be the coming of Jehovah.

Indeed, the angel Gabriel said of John that he should go before the Lord "in the spirit and power of Elijah;" and that is what marked the searching, sifting nature of his testimony. It was preparation for the One who was coming. It said, in fact, that God was coming.

When God worked in many, as He did through John's ministry, He brought to light a company of people who walked in the steps of the men of faith of old. So in practice they formed "the remnant" so often spoken of — the core of God's Israel, over whom Christ was to reign. The beginning of Luke's gospel sets out the moral character of this remnant beautifully. They trusted in God's mercy, felt their need of a Saviour, and learned salvation "in the forgiveness of their sins." They looked for nothing in themselves that could give them any claim to the promised blessings.

In the spirit and power of Elijah came Jehovah's messenger, John the Baptist, and he turned many of the sons of Israel to Jehovah their God. The language seems careful to guard against the mistake of thinking this was the predicted mission of Elijah the prophet... So for the time the moral restoration of the Jews was partial. Most of the people did not repent, family bonds were completely broken, and a curse struck the land from that day to this. But it will not always be so. For grace will work in a remnant once more in the last days.

In verses 6, 9, 11, 15, 16 and 17, "Lord" is the equivalent of the Old Testament "Jehovah," so the coming of the Messiah is to be the coming of Jehovah. There were to be people on earth who were prepared to receive Christ when He came.

Elijah was the prophet who took up the broken obligations of the people. That is why he went to Horeb… Horeb was where God gave the law, and Elijah went back there, feeling how far the people had departed from God. John should now recall the people in the spirit and power of Elijah. It is repentance. It is not, of course, the great work of God in putting away sin — only one could do that, Jesus the Lord. Neither is it the power of the Holy Spirit poured out on Israel.

John was not the same person as Elijah. His service before the Lord was "in the spirit and power of Elijah." John's ministry had the same character as Elijah's. It pressed hard on Israel the guilt of their disobedience to the law. The reference here is to Malachi 4:6. Some of the Jews took it to mean Elijah in person, but John denied that reading (John 1:21).

Though Luke 1:17 clearly refers to Malachi 4:5-6, even there it applies only in a moral way, or to faith, not as history. This is how our Lord Himself puts the case in Matthew 11:14: "if you are willing to accept it, he is Elijah who is to come." Nothing is farther from His mind than to set aside a future action of Elijah before the great and terrible day of Jehovah comes. That description in no way suits His first coming in grace, even though moral judgement goes with that grace.

Plummer points to a fading of parental affection. Augustine's idea, adopted by Calvin, was that the "fathers" means the patriarchs.

Luke 1:17 leaves a word out, and the sense is packed. John was to turn disobedient ones not merely to the thoughts of just men, but so as to remain in them.

John was to prepare the way; the people were to prepare their hearts. The holy men of old saw this ahead of time and spoke of it, as the Holy Spirit moved them.

What the last verse of Malachi says may seem unclear, but Luke 1:17 makes its bearing plain. The "disobedient" will be turned to "the wisdom of the just," and so a people prepared for the Lord. In this way there will be a godly remnant. Otherwise a curse would strike the whole earth.

Unbelief works just when God was about to do this remarkable act of mercy. The case is striking, but it is not rare, and we would do well to apply it to our souls. When God means mercy to us, we are too quick to limit the Lord. We doubt Him even when the blessing comes very close to us. We put a difficulty in the way, giving in to the suggestions of the enemy and the unbelief of our own hearts.

Had Zacharias forgotten his prayer? He asked Gabriel, "How shall I know this? For I am an old man, and my wife is advanced in years." Had he stopped praying for a son? Did the good news take him by surprise, so that unbelief wrapped his heart like a dark, heavy cloud? The answer to his prayer had been long in coming. But now he learned who his son was to be, and that explained the delay. God answers prayer at the right time.

The angel's message was so clear and definite that it should have left no doubt at all in the mind of Zacharias. Yet his word was not enough for him. He felt he must have a sign to confirm it. If not, he would take the testimony of his aging circumstances instead of the testimony of God's Word! He is a fitting picture of the unbelief of Israel.

The Old Testament Scriptures pointed to the messenger who would go before Jehovah's face. Studying the holy Scriptures had been his constant work, or verse 6 could not have been true of him. His office required it, and God acknowledged both him and his wife as righteous. Still, God's announcement to him revealed not ignorance but real unbelief.

This was a measure of chastening for Zacharias — a sign to others, but at the same time a rebuke to himself. His sudden loss of speech would catch the attention of the people. They would see that something extraordinary had happened, and it might set them thinking. On the other hand, God had sent His angel to tell him that these things would be done, and Zacharias showed his unbelief by asking for another sign. So came his chastening. God's words would come true in their season despite his unbelief. Mercy removes the stroke in due season.

The unbelief of Zacharias reminds us of something we find again and again in Scripture. God does not hide the weakness of the faith of His beloved people. This weakness explains the silence of the aged priest until the day when he sets his seal that God is true. How good it is to see also that God's promises do not depend upon the strength of our faith.

She does not doubt; she asks in confidence. So she is not struck dumb, and there is no sign of unbelief, as there was with Zacharias, who asked, "How shall I know this?" A question may rise in the spirit and need an answer, yet show no lack of faith. Another question may sound much the same, and yet spring from unbelief. God does not judge according to appearance, but the heart.

Tobit 12:15 speaks of seven archangels (naming Raphael). The Book of Enoch adds Uriel. In Scripture no more than two archangels are named: Gabriel (Daniel 8, 9), the herald of goodness, and Michael (Daniel 10, 12; Jude 9; Revelation 12:7), the herald of wrath.

This angel was sent to Daniel to explain the vision he had seen of the ram and the goat, and to reveal to him the prophecy of the Seventy Weeks. Daniel calls him "the man Gabriel," and one that had "the appearance of a man." He was also sent to Mary the mother of Jesus, and to Zacharias the father of John the Baptist, to foretell the birth of their sons.

The angels are in ministry. And those who stand nearest the throne are perhaps the ones who serve the most, as well they may be, since they are so near that source of goodness. Gabriel appears in ministry again and again, and because he is so near the throne he could say of himself, "I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God."

Look at Gabriel. He stood "in the presence of God." In what character then did he come forth from that presence? As the messenger of glad tidings to the earth.

Gabriel can stand freely in the holy place with the priest, and just as willingly in the poor home of the virgin. Such are the ease and grace of these heavenly visits — happy pledges of days still brighter, still to come! But Gabriel comes as a messenger. He stands at the altar, yet he will not rise in its flame, as the angel of Jehovah once did. He stands in the temple, yet he will not call himself greater than the temple, as Jesus, who is Jehovah, later did. For he fills his place as a servant, and takes no higher.

When a man sees himself simply as the messenger of God, he can feel quite at ease about how his message is received. This does not weaken his tender, affectionate concern for the people he speaks to. Quite the opposite. But it keeps him from the excessive worry that only makes a man unfit for calm, steady testimony. When Zacharias said to the angel, "How shall I know this?" was the angel disturbed by the question? Not in the least. His reply was calm and dignified. The angel rises before the doubting mortal, with a keen and exquisite sense of the dignity of his message.

When God means mercy to us, we are too apt to limit the Lord — to doubt Him even when the blessing comes very close to us. A measure of chastening was put upon Zacharias — a sign to others, but at the same time a rebuke to himself. The very fact that he was struck suddenly dumb would catch the attention of the people. They would see that something extraordinary had happened and might be led to think about it. On the other hand, when God had sent His angel to tell him that these things would be done, Zacharias showed his unbelief by asking for another sign. That is why he was chastened. God's words would be fulfilled in their season despite his unbelief. Mercy removes the stroke in due season.

Zacharias came under a measure of chastening — a sign to others, but at the same time a rebuke to himself. His sudden loss of speech would catch the people's attention. They would see that something extraordinary had happened, and it might set them thinking. On the other hand, when God had sent His angel to tell him that these things would happen, Zacharias showed his unbelief by asking for another sign. So came his chastening. God's words would come true in their season despite his unbelief. Mercy lifts the blow at the right time.

When told by an angel that his elderly and barren wife would bear a son, he asked for a sign of some kind to support the bare Word of God. In this he proved himself an "unbelieving believer," though very true to type, for "Jews demand signs" (1 Cor. 1:22). God disciplined him for it, since the sign given was the loss of his power of speech. The sign was quite appropriate, however. The Psalmist said, "I believed, and so I spoke." Zacharias did not believe, and therefore he could not speak.

But the faith of Zacharias in God and in His goodness did not rise to the height of his own prayer. Sadly, this is too common a case. The prayer is granted at a moment when only God could step in and do what he wanted. Even then he cannot walk in the steps of an Abraham or a Hannah, and he asks how this thing can now take place.

But Mary said to the angel, "How will this be, since I am a virgin?" She does not doubt, but she asks trustingly. So she is not struck silent. There is no sign of unbelief here, as there was with Zacharias, who asked, "How shall I know this?" A question can rise in the spirit that needs an answer but shows no lack of faith. Another question can sound much the same and yet spring from unbelief. God does not judge by appearance, but judges the heart.

The unbelief of Zacharias reminds us of what we constantly find throughout Scripture. God does not hide the weakness of the faith of His beloved people. This weakness explains the silence of the elderly priest until the day when he himself confirms that God is true. How good it is also to see that God's promises do not depend on the strength of our faith.

He then gave a sign, though not as pleasant as Zacharias wanted. Zacharias would be deprived of speech until the day this prophecy was fulfilled (vs. 19-20). Again we have here a likeness to Israel's condition at that time. The nation was silent about the things of God. They could not lift their voices in praise and thanksgiving, just because of unbelief, until the day they see their Messiah.

But notice the grace of God. Zacharias' unbelief costs him the use of his speech for many months. Yet he does not lose the little son he had been praying for. That little son grew up to be such a man that his Lord (and ours) said of him: "Truly, I say to you, among those born of women there has arisen no one greater than John the Baptist."

The godliness of Zacharias and his wife Elisabeth, the seriousness of the priestly service he was doing, the attitude of the waiting people outside — all these give a glimpse of what was still real in the middle of a religion full of empty forms. The phrase "in the days of Herod the king" points to what those times were like: people freely gave themselves to sin, while keeping up an outward show of exact ceremony.

The people waiting outside the temple were puzzled when he came out. They had not expected God to step into the nation's affairs. But the evidence was clear: Zacharias must have seen a vision in the temple.

God, in His goodness, turns His servant's lack of faith into a chastening that teaches him, and into a proof for the people that God had visited Zacharias from on high. He cannot speak until the word of the Lord is fulfilled. The people wonder at his staying so long in the sanctuary, and the signs he makes explain the reason to them.

The very fact that he suddenly lost his speech would awaken the attention of the people. They would see that an extraordinary event had taken place and might start to think about it. On the other hand, God had sent His angel to tell him that these things would be done, and Zacharias showed his unbelief by asking for another sign. So came his chastening. God's words would be fulfilled in their season despite his unbelief. Mercy removes the blow at the right time.

An angel told him that his elderly and childless wife would bear a son. Even then he asked for some sign to support the bare Word of God. In this he proved himself an "unbelieving believer," though very true to type, for "Jews demand signs" (1 Cor. 1:22). God disciplined him for it, since the sign granted was the loss of his power of speech. The sign was quite fitting, however. The Psalmist said, "I believed, and so I spoke." Zacharias did not believe, and therefore he could not speak.

The priestly office has failed in Israel. The voice that once spoke for her is silent, and her witness is one of judgment on herself. The crowds gaze at her, only to see her unable to speak — until her time is fulfilled, and "God's oath" is no longer barren.

Zacharias had been unable to speak: no blessing could leave his lips, either toward God or toward others. Jesus went up on high to take up His priestly office in the fullness of blessing for His people. He left behind those who proved to be the core of the new priestly family, and already they were blessing God and worshipping Him.

Now we see a beautiful thing in Zacharias's mouth being opened. Unbelief had shut it — faith opened it. God does not afflict willingly, but personally, with an end in view. It was very right that he should be silenced for a time. But as soon as possible his mouth was opened, wider than he ever expected.

Zacharias asked for a sign; a sign he should have. He would be unable to speak until God kept His promise. He walked into the sanctuary able to talk. He left without that power, until his son was born. God gave him a sign, but it testified to his unbelief.

In this he proved himself to be an "unbelieving believer," though very true to type, for "Jews demand signs" (1 Cor. 1:22); and he suffered under God's governing hand, since the sign given was the loss of his power of speech. The sign was quite fitting, however. The Psalmist said, "I believed, therefore have I spoken." Zacharias did not believe, and therefore he could not speak.

In His goodness, God turns His servant's lack of faith into a correction that teaches him. He also turns it into proof for the people that God had visited Zacharias. Zacharias cannot speak until the Lord's word comes true. The people wonder why he stayed so long in the sanctuary, and the signs he makes explain the reason to them.

God laid a measure of chastening on Zacharias — a sign to others, and at the same time a rebuke to himself. The sudden loss of his speech would catch the attention of the people. They would see that something extraordinary had happened, and it might set them thinking… God would fulfil His words at the right time, despite his unbelief. Mercy removes the stroke in due season.

Zacharias became speechless (kophos), but it is clear from Luke's account that he was deaf at the same time (compare Luke 1:22 with 62).

But Zacharias, though he feared God, is far too much like his generation. He asked for a sign to satisfy him about what an angel had been sent from God to declare. So he gets the sign in his own person, and is left unable to speak until the angel's words come true. In the same way the priestly office has failed in Israel. Her voice for God is silent, and her witness is a judgment on herself. The crowds gaze at her, only to see her mute — until in time her season is fulfilled, and "God's oath" is no longer barren.

It is not hard to see why the official priest could not speak; an angel had brought him good news from God, and he did not believe it. His silent mouth was the outward sign of a silent heart. A sad beginning to the Gospel, but what a joyous close!

He blessed them, and they worshipped Him… and in the temple they kept on praising God. Zacharias had been unable to speak: no blessing could leave his lips, either toward God or toward people. Jesus went up on high to take up His priestly office in the fullness of blessing for His people. He left behind those who proved to be the start of the new priestly family, and they were already blessing God and worshipping Him.

The word has been transferred to our language in the word "liturgy," the public service of God. It might therefore be rendered — "as soon as the days of his ministration (liturgy) were accomplished" (Luke 1:23). Zacharias, as a priest, performed divine service for the people. A little later, Hebrews chapter 8 says of the Lord, "but now He has obtained a more excellent ministry" (liturgy). His ministry is better than that of Zacharias or the Jewish priests. He alone performs divine service for others. He does this as the great public Minister of His people, in heaven. No believer stands towards God in such a relation to any other believer. If any claim it, in this they claim what belongs to the Son of God alone.

The account then mentions briefly that when his days of service were over, he returned to his own house. He would not serve often in the temple. There were twenty-four groups of priests, and each took its turn. It seems they changed over every sabbath day (2 Chron. 23:8).

God thus laid a measure of chastening on Zacharias — a sign to others, but at the same time a rebuke to himself. That sudden loss of speech would catch the people's attention. They would see that something extraordinary had happened, and it might set them thinking. On the other hand, God had sent His angel to tell him that these things would happen, and Zacharias showed his unbelief by asking for another sign. That is why God chastened him. God's words would be fulfilled in their season despite his unbelief. In due time mercy lifts the blow.

God, in His goodness, turns His servant's lack of faith into a chastisement that teaches him. It also becomes proof to the people that God had visited Zacharias from on high.

So the priestly office has failed in Israel too. Her voice is silent. Her witness is a judgment on herself. The crowds gaze at her, only to see her mute. Then in due time her season is fulfilled, and "God's oath" is no longer barren.

Zacharias had been mute: no blessing could leave his lips, either toward God or toward people. Jesus went up on high to take up His priestly office in the fullness of blessing for His people. He left behind those who proved to be the core of the new priestly family, and they were already blessing God and worshipping Him.

Many scenes in Luke's Gospel are set in homes. The first belongs to Zacharias and Elizabeth. It teaches us that a home does not consist in the number of its rooms or the quality of its furnishings, but in the character of the people who live there. This couple "were both righteous before God, walking blamelessly in all the commandments and statutes of the Lord" (Luke 1:6). This meant it was fit to receive the most honoured guest ever to cross its threshold — before He was born.

They looked in faith for the Messiah. So they were righteous, walking blamelessly in the commandments and ordinances of the Lord. All the same, they had a disappointment of heart that matched the state of things in Israel. "They had no child, because Elizabeth was barren, and both were advanced in years." They had prayed about it, as we find later. Though Zacharias seems even to have lost sight of his own prayer, God had not.

Elizabeth "hid herself." All this fits the circumstances she was in. It was to take away her shame, and yet she was ashamed. But this was the Lord's own doing — and He did it in circumstances that humble, where only His hand could put things right.

The grace that blessed her did not make her numb to what had been a shame in Israel. The shame was gone, yet as far as people could see it left its traces, because God took it away in a way beyond nature. This was right thinking, and it suited a holy woman. But what is rightly hidden from people has all its value before God, and in her retreat the mother of the Lord comes to visit Elizabeth.

Knowing that God is taking away her reproach, Elizabeth hides herself. This is how grace works. If God is with someone, and this is truly known, it will not lift that person up but humble them. Nothing really humbles except His presence: in that light, who can exalt himself?

"Thus the Lord has done for me in the days when He looked on me, to take away my reproach among people." Elizabeth's feeling in these circumstances was godly. The unbelief of Zacharias was just as striking a witness of what is so natural to us all.

John comes as a child of promise, born by a special gift of God that renewed a natural ability in his mother. But Jesus comes as Son of God, born not by any gift to nature but by the Holy Spirit, entirely beyond nature. The one is the child of a barren wife, the other of a virgin. Elizabeth was the mother of the saved, Mary of the Saviour. Elizabeth's child was the sanctified, Mary's the Sanctifier. A child of a barren wife has always been a symbol of the saved, or of the family of God. Such a birth speaks of the grace and gift of God to those found powerless and lacking.

We know from the book of Daniel that Jewish women longed to give birth to a son. They hoped that son would prove to be the Messiah, the One long promised to Israel. Every Jewish mother longed for this, that she might be the one whom God would use to bring into being the Messiah. So for a Jewish woman to be barren was a great reproach to her.

But there is another reproach attached to her. She shared it with many a woman whom God raised up to be a channel of blessing to His people. She is barren. Like Sarah, like Hannah, like Rebekah, she has none of nature's energy and none of nature's strength at all. Completely desolate, completely helpless. Her own sense of this is not spoken of, yet we know how intense the longing was among the women of Israel, and how intense the sense of reproach. May that not have stirred her own soul and prepared her for God to reveal His will to her? Hannah was the same: she felt her need so deeply before God that He could give it, and answer the request of her soul.

Elizabeth's feeling in these circumstances was just as godly as the unbelief of Zacharias was striking. His unbelief showed what comes so naturally to us all.

Knowing that God is taking away her reproach, Elizabeth hides herself. This is how grace works. If God is with someone, and that person truly knows it, it will not lift him up but humble him. Nothing humbles us as it should except His presence. In the light of it, who can exalt himself?

Elizabeth "hid herself." All of this fits the circumstances she was in. God acted to take away her shame, and yet she was ashamed. The Lord had dealt with her, but He did it in circumstances designed to humble, where His hand alone could put things right.

Elizabeth has feelings that suit a holy woman. She remembers what had been a shame to her in Israel, and the miraculous blessing now given to her only marked that shame more plainly. So she hides herself, and at the same time she acknowledges the Lord's goodness to her. But what hides us from the eyes of men has great value before God.

The angel Gabriel is sent from God in the sixth month (of Elizabeth's pregnancy) with a more important message. After the long silence of centuries, heaven speaks again. In Luke it speaks in a more familiar way than in Matthew, where Joseph receives the messages, but in a dream. Here we have open, face-to-face speech. And the most important message comes not in the temple, but in a private home. God is coming near in His grace; and He always reveals Himself more fully the nearer He comes.

It was the angel Gabriel who was sent to Daniel to make known long ago the Messiah's coming and cutting off, in the famous prophecy of the seventy weeks (Dan. 9:26). Now he comes to Mary, the one promised in marriage to Joseph, and announces to her — "the virgin" of a still older prophet (Isa. 7:14) — the birth of that Messiah.

The angel's mission now is not to the temple, nor to Jerusalem. It is to Galilee of the Gentiles, and to Nazareth. It is to a virgin promised in marriage to a man named Joseph, of the fallen house of David. The virgin's name is Mary, or Miriam ("exalted"). All is in ruin here, when God comes in to revive and raise to higher glory.

In Nazareth, that despised place, there was found a young virgin, unknown by the world, whose name was Mary. She was promised in marriage to Joseph, who was of the house of David. But everything in Israel was so out of order that this descendant of the king was a carpenter. But what is this to God? Mary was a chosen vessel; she had found favour in the eyes of God.

What was there in Nazareth and what in Mary that led the angel there? The city was small, obscure, and belonging to Galilee. The virgin was unknown, and, as she says, "of humble estate" (v. 52). There was no match between the place, the person, and the promise. But we must remember that grace owes nothing to what it finds here. And He whose coming is now announced comes to lowly circumstances and to humble, repentant hearts. He did not despise the virgin's womb.

Luke records the visit of Gabriel to Mary, a lowly virgin, at Nazareth in circumstances of the greatest poverty, but rich in faith… This is in perfect keeping with the Gospel, which sets out that surpassing grace that has come down to the very lowest in the eyes of men. Mary might be poor, and Nazareth despised, but these are what God will take up to accomplish His purposes.

The priest under the law did not believe the message of grace that Gabriel brought. So this representative of Israel could not speak until the day when God fulfilled His promise in grace. Then he could praise the Author of his salvation, as the faithful remnant will one day. Mary was not only godly, but humble and simple — an object of grace, and not a representative of the law. "You have found favour with God," said the angel. She was submissive: "Behold, I am the servant of the Lord." Her confidence was in the word of God, for she added, "let it be to me according to your word."

What was there in Nazareth and what in Mary that led the angel there? The city was small, obscure, and belonging to Galilee. The virgin was unknown, and, as she says, "of low degree" (v. 52). The place, the person, and the promise did not match each other. But we must remember that grace owes nothing to anything here. He whose coming is now announced comes to lowly circumstances and to broken and humble hearts. He did not despise the virgin's womb.

The angel's mission now is not to the temple or to Jerusalem. It is to Galilee of the Gentiles, to Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the fallen house of David. The virgin's name is Mary, or Miriam ("exalted"). All is in ruin here, when God comes in to revive and raise to higher glory.

In Nazareth, that despised place, there was found a young virgin, unknown by the world, whose name was Mary. She was betrothed to Joseph, who was of the house of David. But everything in Israel was so out of order that this descendant of the king was a carpenter. But what is this to God? Mary was a chosen vessel; she had found favour in the eyes of God.

Mary is the principal figure of the two in Luke, and there, I believe, the genealogy is hers… There were two lines that came down unbroken to those days — the house of Solomon and the house of Nathan. Mary was the representative of Nathan's family, as Joseph was of Solomon's.

The Jews looked on this as being as binding as marriage. Only a divorce could end it… Mary, the mother of the Lord Jesus, was betrothed to Joseph. He thought about divorcing her quietly, but the angel of the Lord told him the truth about her condition.

The Messiah had to be born not merely of a virgin, nor of a virgin daughter of David, but of one legally united to Joseph — in the eye of the law, really his wife… Let people slander as they might, Mary must be betrothed to Joseph. Otherwise the Lord Jesus would not have a proper title to the throne of David.

A curse struck the direct line of descent, yet the line kept its legal title. So it could hand on to another what could be of no use to itself. The marriage of Joseph and Mary was, in the wisdom of God, the means of accomplishing this. The Lord's birth from Mary made Him the real Son of David (Luke 1:32) while the marriage of His mother made Him David's legal heir.

We may be the 150th generation from Adam, but we are simply "after his kind". We could go on reproducing ourselves and push the first man and his race endlessly into eternity. We should still only have fallen man… There never was a real and original second man until Jesus was born, and that broke the inherited chain of sin and death. He was conceived by the Holy Spirit's power. Discard the virgin birth, and you have lost this great foundation truth of the gospel.

She was a woman, uniquely favoured because God chose her out of all the virgins of Israel to be the mother of the Lord. Yet the more we make of Mary, the less we make of the divine miracle of this holy birth.

This was the last place man would have chosen for God's purpose. In the world's eyes, the name of the town was enough to condemn anyone who came from there. There a young woman, unknown to everyone the world recognised, was engaged to a poor carpenter. Her name was Mary. But everything was in confusion in Israel: the carpenter was of the house of David. God never forgets His promises, and He never overlooks the people they concern. Here was the place where they would be fulfilled. Whether Nazareth was small or great made no difference. It only showed this: God expects nothing from man; man expects everything from God.

It was Gabriel who was sent to the prophet Daniel long ago, to make known the Messiah's coming and cutting off in the famous prophecy of the seventy weeks (Daniel 9:26). Now he comes to Mary, the one engaged to Joseph, and announces to her — "the virgin" of an even older prophet (Isaiah 7:14) — the birth of that Messiah. No wonder he greets her as a favoured one, with whom the Lord was… She is the chosen channel of the wonderful purposes that would yet fill her own people, and the whole world, with blessing. She is the appointed mother of One in whom God was about to solve every difficulty sin had brought into the world, and to do it by a righteous triumph over it. He would even make it possible for God to bless those who believed, sinners though they had been.

Gabriel's greeting speaks of great grace given to Mary. ("Favour" and "grace" translate the same Greek word.) It speaks of the Lord's presence with her, and of her being blessed among women. So her personal blessing comes first: great grace given to her. Then comes her relationship to the Lord: His presence with her. Then her relationship to others: blessed among women.

The expressions "found favour" and "highly favoured" do not mean the same thing at all. She herself had found favour, so she was not to fear. But God, by His own choice, had given her this grace — the immense favour of being the mother of the Lord. In this she was the object of God's sovereign favour… Finding favour with God refers to Mary's own spiritual state. Being highly favoured refers to her being God's chosen vessel for the birth of Jesus. But the two are truly connected.

The angel tells her she is "highly favoured" (Luke 1:28). Could any woman have a higher favour than to be the mother of our Lord in His human birth? "Blessed are you among women" (Luke 1:28) is the angel's greeting. "Blessed" she certainly was. Note, it does not say "Most blessed." The language is restrained. There is no room there for the worship of Mary.

"Hail, favoured one!" said Gabriel to Mary. The words "Blessed are you among women" belong to the meeting with her cousin Elizabeth. The Revised Version agrees, following the best authority. The Latin Vulgate leaned towards heaping honour on Mary, and many followed it.

Humanly speaking, Mary was most highly favoured. God singled her out by a supreme distinction. It is even possible that, in a right desire to keep clear of Roman Catholic error, Protestants have overlooked the remarkable honour God gave her. If that is an error at all, it errs on the right side.

But Mary, when she saw the angel — who no doubt appeared in human form (see Luke 24:4) — "was greatly troubled at the saying, and tried to discern what sort of greeting this might be." That is, she reasoned inwardly about the nature of Gabriel's words. She was asking what their "aim and meaning" were. We can understand this if we recall her character and position. She was a devout, God-fearing woman, and, whatever her ancestry, she seems to have lived in lowly circumstances. Meekness, humility, and faith were the clear marks of her spiritual life. So she might well be troubled at what she had heard, and reason about what the angel's words meant. This was not the natural mind reasoning as the offspring of doubt. It sprang from perplexity of soul.

The word "thoughts" (dialogismoi) stands for inward reasonings. The same Greek word occurs in the following passages, though it is not always translated "thoughts." (1) Mary "cast in her mind" what manner of greeting the angel's was (Luke 1:29). (2) The people "mused" in their hearts whether John the Baptist was the Messiah or not (Luke 3:15). (3) Jesus said to the disciples when He appeared among them, Why do thoughts arise in your hearts? (Luke 24:38)… (5) The rich man whose crops were plentiful worked out his plans for future ease after he had "thought within himself" (Luke 12:17).

God gave Gabriel insight into Mary's feelings. So he first calms her mind. Then he assures her that she has found favour with God, preparing her for the amazing message he was sent to bring. We say "in preparation" for Gabriel's message, because a soul must be at peace and free before it can receive divine things.

Mary was perplexed at such words, as no doubt also by the sudden appearance of the angel, but wisely waited in silence for an explanation. "Fear not," he says, to set her at rest. Again he speaks of her as favoured by God — grace, or favour, is a subject Luke brings out beautifully. No human merit could deserve such honour as being chosen by God to be the mother of the Messiah.

No wonder he greets her as a favoured one, with whom the Lord was… Mary, though troubled, pondered what the meaning of this greeting might be. The angel tells her not to fear, for she has found favour with God. She is the chosen channel of the wonderful purposes that would yet fill the world, and her own people too, with blessing. She is to be the appointed mother of One in whom God was about to solve, by a righteous triumph, every difficulty that sin had brought into the world. In Him God could even bless those who believed, sinners though they had been, and make them triumph righteously through Him and with Him.

"The expressions 'found favour' and 'highly favoured' do not at all mean the same thing. Personally she had found favour, so she was not to fear. But God had given her this grace of His own choice, this immense favour: to be the mother of the Lord. In this she was the object of God's sovereign favour." We can add that finding favour with God refers to Mary's spiritual state. Being highly favoured speaks rather of God choosing her as the vessel for the birth of Jesus. But the two things are certainly connected.

She might well be troubled at what she heard, and reason about it — not out of doubt, but out of a puzzled heart, wondering what the angel's greeting meant. God gave Gabriel insight into Mary's feelings. So he first calms her mind. Then, to prepare her for the astonishing message he came to bring, he assures her that she has found favour with God. We say "in preparation" for Gabriel's message, because a soul cannot receive divine things until it is at peace and free.

Sometimes He reveals Himself only by an angel, a mighty heavenly messenger. Even then the soul He speaks to is deeply troubled. It needs, like Zacharias or Mary, this very comforting word, "Fear not."

"Fear not," he says, to set her at rest. Again he speaks of God's favour toward her. Luke emphasises this subject — grace, or favour — beautifully. No human merit could deserve such an honour: that God should choose her to be the mother of the Messiah.

The expressions "found favour" and "highly favoured" do not have the same meaning at all. She herself had found favour, so she was not to fear. But in His sovereignty God had given her this grace, this immense favour, of being the mother of the Lord. In this she was the object of God's sovereign favour… Finding favour with God refers to Mary's spiritual state. Being highly favoured speaks more of her place as God's chosen vessel for the birth of Jesus. But the two things are certainly connected.

The law does not produce confidence. Grace alone calls that out. The priest under the law did not believe the message of grace that Gabriel brought… Mary was not only pious. She was humble and simple — an object of grace, not a representative of the law. "You have found favour with God," said the angel. She was subject: "Behold, I am the servant of the Lord." Her confidence was in the word of God, for she added, "Let it be to me according to your word."

Mary was the mother of our Lord according to the flesh. She was surely "blessed among women," chosen for the highest honour possible to a woman. In her song she says, "my spirit rejoices in God my Savior" (Luke 1:47). Now if Mary had been sinless she had no need of a Saviour — and she certainly needed a Saviour, like the rest of us.

Mary is great in that she is nothing. Yet God favours her in a way no one else shares.

The angel tells her not to fear, for she has found favour with God. She is the chosen channel of wonderful purposes. Those purposes would yet fill her own people, and the world too, with blessing. She is to be the appointed mother of the One in whom God was about to solve every difficulty sin had brought into the world, and to do it by a righteous triumph over sin.

David the king found favour in the sight of God, and so did Mary of Nazareth, the mother of Jesus. But these were exceptional cases. The New Testament shows that standing in the favour of God is not limited to a few. All who are justified have it alike.

As you can see from Hebrews 4:8, Jesus is the Greek form of Joshua, or Jehoshua. The name means "Jehovah is salvation," or "whose salvation is Jehovah." So there is good reason for the common observation that the name Jesus means Jehovah the Saviour. If so, what a subject this sets before our souls to think about — yes, and to adore! God Himself declares that a child born into the world, of lowly parentage in man's esteem, is Jehovah the Saviour!

"Jesus." The name (Jeshua), Nehemiah 8:17, was very common among the Jews of the time. Colossians 4:11 mentions a Jesus called Justus, one of the Jews. One of the Lord's own human ancestors bore the same name — see Luke 3:29. The Talmud wanted to get rid of the original meaning of "the name" (James 2:7). So while it uses "Jeshua" for everyone else who bore that name, it regularly calls the Lord by the clipped name Jesu.

It is His personal, human name: the name which tells us of His grace and tenderness, His lowly life, His sorrow, and His death. But this name also carries divine glory with it, for it means JEHOVAH THE SAVIOUR. Yes, the very name of His humiliation, the one written in mockery on His cross, declares to us the greatness of His person and the love of His heart.

It is wrong and misleading to say that the human nature of Christ was created in the virgin's womb — that is, formed out of nothing. Such a claim plainly departs from Scripture. Mary undoubtedly had her part in the sacred mystery, as the angel said to her, "You will conceive in your womb and bear a son." Some claim that the Lord's "holy humanity was created by a creative act of the Holy Spirit." That claim in effect denies the angel's own words to Mary about her conception.

Here again Joseph was the one who acted in public, while in Luke (Luke 1:31) Mary gave the name. The difference comes from the point of view the Holy Spirit gives us of our Lord's person in the two Gospels. In Luke He was proving that Jesus, though divine, was truly man — a partaker of humanity apart from sin. In our case it is sinful human nature; in His case it was holy… One great aim of that Gospel was to prove His holy manhood. It shows how fully and how suitably He could be a Saviour of men. He could take up the sorrows and the misery, and on the cross suffer for the sinfulness of others — Himself the Holy One.

So he says, "you shall call his name Jesus" — a Divine Saviour. "He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. And the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David." This is another and quite different glory. It joins His title of Messiah to saving power… Even in the lowest sphere, how far His kingdom is from being a mere human dominion!

Surely every "shall" in this wonderful passage must come true, as really and as literally as the birth of Jesus did. God said He should be born: it came to pass. God says He shall reign over the house of Jacob: it will surely come to pass.

The contrast between these two messages is worth noticing. John would be "great in the sight of the Lord." Of Jesus the angel said, "He shall be great." All John the Baptist's greatness depended on the Person whose herald he was. Jesus was great in Himself and of Himself. From where I write, I can see the shadow of a chestnut tree in the light of the rising sun. The shadow grows to a giant size. Yet the shadow does not show how big the tree is. It witnesses to the sun's rising and splendour. Such was John.

"The Highest." The Old Testament Elyon. It was the usual name for God among the Greek-speaking Jews scattered abroad. It appears again in verses 35 and 76.

Here we are told that He — the One who should be born — "should be great," and, born into this world, "should be called the Son of the Highest." He had been the Son of the Father before the world was. But this child, born on earth, would be called the Son of the Highest — such as He was down here. He would fully prove His right to that title by His acts, and by everything that showed what He was. It is a precious thought to us, and full of glory, that a child born of a woman rightly bears this name, "Son of the Highest." It is supremely glorious for One who is in the position of a man, and really was such before God.

He (not Mary) would be great, called "the Son of the Highest," a dignity far higher than could be given to Him by Mary, indeed an eternal dignity. Therefore the Lord God would give to Him the throne of His father David. First mentioned is His being Son of the Highest, His eternal deity; then Son of David, which involves His manhood, being born of Mary.

But other things still were connected with the One who should be born. God would give Him the throne of His father David. Here again we plainly see that He is considered as born, as man, in this world. The throne of His father David belongs to Him. God will give it to Him. By right of birth He is heir to the promises — the earthly promises which, as to the kingdom, belonged to the family of David. But it would be according to the counsels and the power of God.

Whose line does Luke give us, Joseph's or Mary's? Some have long held it is Joseph's, as Matthew's is; others say it is Mary's. No one has yet settled the question. The Lord's Davidic descent is unquestionable, whichever view is adopted. Peter affirmed it (Acts 2:30), and Paul also (Acts 13:23; Rom. 1:3; 2 Tim. 2:8), and the Lord Himself declared it (Matt. 22:45; Mark 12:37; Luke 20:41; Rev. 22:16). The angel Gabriel's words to Mary (Luke 1:32) speak of it, and so does Zacharias in his song (1:69). Yet both knew — certainly Gabriel, and doubtless Zacharias — that Joseph was not the real father of the child about to be born. Mary's child was really David's seed.

He was about to come as the Son of David according to the flesh, but He is also David's Lord. He is the One who spoke these words to the prophet Nathan. Of Him God announced: "the Lord God shall give unto Him the throne of His father David. And He shall reign forever and of His kingdom there shall be no end." That throne and that kingdom He has not yet received. He fills the Father's throne in the highest heaven.

Here again we see Him clearly: born into this world as a man. The throne of His father David belongs to Him. God will give it to Him. By right of birth He is heir to the promises. These are the earthly promises about the kingdom that belonged to David's family. But it would all come about by the counsels and the power of God. He would reign over the house of Jacob, not only over Judah. His would not be a weak, passing power with a short life. It would last throughout the ages.

Why should we not expect this word of the Lord, spoken by His angel, to be fulfilled? I cannot see any reason why I should doubt this, or any other part of God's word. The subjects, then, of His Kingdom will be the house of Jacob, not the Church of God.

Again, "Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me. Your throne shall be established forever" (2 Sam. 7:16). God has never yet fulfilled this promise to Israel. The question is whether it will come true literally in their history, or spiritually in the Church. Nothing in the prophecy seems to point to the Church, and nothing in the Church seems to point to the prophecy.

We all know full well that instead of reigning, He suffered when He was here before. But when He comes again, He comes to reign. He will reign over the house of Jacob, as we have seen in so many Scriptures. But more than that, as we have seen in many others, He will "have dominion from sea to sea, and from the River to the ends of the earth."

The foundations of His throne rest in the deep places of eternity. His sceptre carries the stamp of immortality, and His crown the stamp of incorruptibility. No Jeroboam will rise then to seize ten parts of the kingdom. It will be one undivided whole forever, under the peaceful rule of Him who is "gentle and lowly in heart."

It does not mean that the kingdom will go on forever in the eternal state. It means that it will not have a successor. Kingdoms exist to keep hostile powers in subjection as well as to protect their subjects. Indeed one is the outcome of the other. But there are no hostile powers in the eternal state, so the kingdom will not be necessary. This is clear from 1 Cor. 15:24-26.

As Daniel had predicted, no one else would ever take it. It would never pass to another people. God would establish it by His counsels, which never change, and by His power, which never fails. Christ will exercise a royal rule that nothing can dispute. He will hand it over to God when all things are fulfilled, but nothing will ever tarnish its royal glory in His hands.

Even at its lowest level, how far His Kingdom is from being a mere human dominion!

And Mary said to the angel, "How will this be, since I am a virgin?" She does not doubt; she asks with confidence. So there is no striking dumb and no sign of unbelief, as with Zacharias, who asked, "How shall I know this?" There may be a question in the spirit that needs an answer but shows no lack of faith. There might be another not so different in form which really sprang from unbelief. God does not judge by appearance, but by the heart.

Zacharias had constantly asked for a son. It was only a question of God's goodness and power to grant his request, and God's clear declaration brought him to a point where he had only to trust it. He did not trust God's promise. It was only the exercise of God's extraordinary power within the natural order of things. Mary asks, with holy confidence, since God has so favoured her, how the thing is to be accomplished, outside the natural order. Of its accomplishment she has no doubt.

When the angel Gabriel announced the honour about to be given to her in the great work of incarnation, she asked, not in a spirit of scepticism but of honest ignorance, "How will this be, since I am a virgin?" Clearly she thought that the birth of this glorious Person, who was about to appear, would follow the ordinary principles of generation. In God's great goodness, her thought becomes the occasion for developing much valuable light on the central truth of incarnation.

The coming Child was to have David as His ancestor and yet be the Son of the Highest! She did not ask for a sign, since she accepted the angel's words, but she did ask for an explanation.

Mary replied to the angel, "How will this be?" What was promised had to happen outside the order of nature. Even so, distrust did not prompt her question. We see this because God allowed Gabriel to give a full and complete answer to her question. That answer reveals two things: the miraculous conception of our blessed Lord, and that the Child so born should be called the Son of God.

The Old Testament was carefully translated into Greek in the version commonly called the Septuagint, and our Lord quoted from it again and again. That translation plainly understood the word "virgin" as Mary herself shows in Luke 1:34. It rendered the word parthenos, which does mean "virgin."

Schanz abandons his usually sensible interpretation by taking Mary's words as a vow of virginity, which verse 27 rules out.

Sinful men have sinful children… Does it matter, then, or does it not, how the Lord was born into this world? Had He come by natural generation, would He not have been like every other man? To deny the virgin birth is to deny His pre-existence in the Godhead. It also denies the holiness of His Manhood. Without these two great truths about His glorious Person, He could not have been the Saviour.

She does not doubt; she asks in trust. So she is not struck silent, and there is no sign of unbelief — unlike Zechariah, who asked, "How shall I know this?" A question may rise in the spirit and need an answer, yet show no lack of faith. Another question, close to it in wording, might spring from unbelief. God does not judge by appearance, but by the heart.

"The Holy Spirit will come upon you" means that the Holy Spirit produced the human nature of our Lord in the virgin by a creative act. And so He had a completely holy nature. "And the power of the Most High will overshadow you." This is not a repetition of the first statement. It means that the Son of God, who is the Most High, overshadowed the virgin. He united Himself with the human nature the Spirit had prepared. He is called "that holy thing" in His very being, because He fits into no class.

There is no taint at all in that "Son of Man." It does not say "that innocent thing," but "that holy thing." The first man before the fall was innocent and guiltless. But that condition was only negative, and it was unstable. He was of the earth, earthy — made of dust; with a spirit, but a creature, and nothing more. The second Man is out of heaven. He was "holy," and had a positive, inherent, lasting character, utterly incapable of sin. His positive holiness came from the direct, divine work of the Spirit in His incarnation, apart from fallen nature.

When the fullness of time had come, God sent forth His Son, born of woman (Gal. 4:4), yet conceived under the direct action of the Holy Spirit (Luke 1:35). That is why, although the Deliverer came by the woman, He was not an ordinary son of Adam at all. The virgin birth means that the Lord Jesus, while truly Man, was yet a Man of a new order.

"Therefore the child to be born will be called holy — the Son of God," and not just Son of Man. This is very important. "Son of God" is a title that belongs to our Lord in His divine glory before He became a man, and here too. When He became a man, He did not stop being the Son of God. As incarnate He was still the Son of God. And the same was true when He rose from the dead. So the title belongs to Him in all three conditions in which Scripture shows our Lord: Son of God as a divine Person; Son of God when He became a man; Son of God risen from the dead and gone to heaven.

It is not here the doctrine of the eternal relationship of Son with the Father. The Gospel of John, the letter to the Hebrews and the letter to the Colossians establish this precious truth and show how important it is. But here it is the One born by the miraculous conception who, on that ground, is called the Son of God.

The power of the Holy Spirit did what would otherwise have been impossible. "That holy thing" born of the virgin was the "Son of God," even as to His humanity. This does not by itself declare what John declares. It is not the same as the Word becoming flesh. Luke's is the Gospel of the Manhood, as John's is of the Deity of the Lord. Both sides are essential to His proper glory.

God sends the angel Gabriel in the sixth month of Elizabeth's pregnancy with a more important message. After the long silence of centuries, heaven speaks again. In Luke it speaks in a closer way than in Matthew, where Joseph receives the messages, and receives them in a dream. Here we have open, face-to-face speech, and the most important message comes not in the temple but in a private home. God is coming near in His grace; and the nearer He comes, the more fully He reveals Himself.

The less wonderful birth is set before her to strengthen her faith to believe in the more wonderful birth. "For nothing will be impossible with God" (Luke 1:37).

What God promised had to be outside the order of nature. Even so, unlike Sarah and Zacharias, it was not distrust that prompted her question. We see this because God let Gabriel give her a full and complete answer… But to strengthen the faith God had already given her, He also sent Gabriel to tell her of His grace to her relative Elizabeth. "For," he said, giving the unchanging basis of all belief, "nothing will be impossible with God."

John comes as a child of promise. A special gift of God renewed a natural power in his mother. But Jesus comes as Son of God, born by no natural power at all, but by the Holy Spirit, beyond nature altogether. One is the child of a barren wife, the other the child of a virgin… Elizabeth was the mother of the saved, Mary the mother of the Saviour. Elizabeth's child was the sanctified, Mary's the Sanctifier.

Gabriel's visit then ended. But first he told Mary that her relative Elizabeth was expecting a child, news she was clearly hearing for the first time. The barren woman was to become fruitful. The virgin was to bear a son. Both were miracles.

He needed to add nothing more about John. This was enough to move Mary to visit Elizabeth, which was what God intended. Mary's simple faith is beautiful. She gladly took the place of a servant and accepted Gabriel's word, unlike Zacharias, who did not believe (v.38).

John the Baptist and our Lord were not first cousins, though people often say so by mistake. Mary and Elizabeth were the cousins, as we read in Luke 1:36… God did not send him to identify a relative, but to identify the Son of God, and to bear witness of this to Israel.

This last statement from the angel "who stands in the presence of God" needs no comment. It drives away all doubt for those who will believe. The birth of the Saviour was miraculous, it was by God's power, it was God's work. No man had any part in it; the Son of Mary was holy and undefiled. He was the Son of God... Unbelief says it is against every law of nature, and impossible. Faith answers in the words of Gabriel, who knew God's power well: "nothing will be impossible with God."

She already had God-given faith. To strengthen it, God sent Gabriel to tell her of His grace to her cousin Elizabeth. "For," he said, giving the unchanging basis of all belief, "nothing will be impossible with God." God would not be God if this were not so; and, as the Lord Himself taught, "All things are possible for one who believes." Mary had learned this deep in her soul. Her answer shows it: "Behold, I am the servant" (the bondservant) "of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word."

In verse 37 there is a bold change of reading in the Greek, which gives the wording "no word from God shall be without power."

Admit superhuman power, and all difficulty vanishes. "Nothing," we read, "will be impossible with God" — "no thing," neither the virgin birth, nor the raising of the dead!

On the eighth day after the child's birth the father could speak again. He praised God, and prophecy through a human voice returned. It had been silent for ages. Now it burst out afresh as Zacharias blessed God for visiting and redeeming His people... His unbelief had vanished. Nothing will be impossible with God, Gabriel had said, and to that Zacharias added his Amen.

So faith links the believer to the almighty power of God and puts that power to work. We could even say it brings God Himself in to act for His people. That is why, in the words of our Lord, nothing is impossible to them. But never forget that faith is a real thing. It is a divine plant, and it only grows out of the soil of a broken will. First we must come to the end of ourselves and our resources. We must learn how helpless we are. Only then do we throw ourselves on God and depend fully on Him and His power.

In Scripture these words often mean a female slave, as with Hagar the Egyptian, Genesis 25:12. But women also used them of themselves as a term of humility. Hannah spoke this way to the Lord and to Eli, 1 Samuel 1:11, 16, 18. Abigail spoke this way to David, 1 Samuel 25:24-41. And Mary and Elizabeth used it as handmaids of the Lord, Luke 1:38, 48.

The angel tells her of the blessing God's almighty power has given to Elizabeth. Mary bows to the will of her God, the submissive vessel of His purpose. In her piety she sees a height and greatness in these purposes. They left her one place only: subjection to the will of God, as their passive instrument. This was her glory, through the favour of her God.

"But Mary said to the angel, How will this be, since I am a virgin?" She does not doubt. She asks with confidence. So God does not strike her dumb, and there is no sign of unbelief, as there was with Zacharias, who asked, "How shall I know this?" A question may rise in the spirit and need an answer, yet show no lack of faith. Another question could look much the same and still spring from unbelief. God does not judge by appearance. He judges the heart.

In all the range of Scripture there is no instance of a more exalted faith nor of a more complete submission. She could not be blind to what this might cost her in this world. Matthew tells us that she became an object of suspicion and inner trouble even to Joseph. But faith never reasons and is never confused. It counts on God. If He calls us to any service, or to walk in any path, He will both guide and sustain us, whatever the trial or persecution. The calm of a soul which rests in the will of God is beyond words, and this was Mary's inheritance at this moment.

To Mary the whole thing was supernatural. Her faith marks her as a true-hearted and dependent saint. She could only say, "Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word" (v. 38); and the angel departed from her. She places herself completely in the hands of God, to be His honoured vessel for the incarnation — the coming in flesh of "that holy thing," "Son of the Highest" and "Son of God."

This is the last time Scripture shows Mary the mother of Jesus. She simply takes her place with the rest, humbled by God's grace towards her, not exalted by it. What a grief it would have been to her to know the place a church that had fallen away from the truth would later give her! No one prays to her, and she does not even lead in prayer. She remains what she was at the beginning, "the handmaid of the Lord," and with this she passes out of the history.

And Mary understood it, saying to the servants, Whatever He says to you, do it. She was still the meek bond-servant of the Lord... He, not she, is the One above all to be heard... She herself could not save others, nor plead for them as He does. She needed to pray herself, since she was a sinner like others, to be saved by faith.

Mary then travels to Judea in haste to visit her cousin Elizabeth. Notice that her haste here is good, because it rested on the word of God given to her. The Lord had planned this visit to strengthen and encourage faith in both of these favoured women.

Mary had asked for no sign to be given her. Yet she "drinks from the brook by the way," and goes "with haste," as one who feels the weight of what God had told her. She goes to find refreshment with her relative, who is joined to her in faith, and now joined to her by this new work of God as well — the work that is starting to bring in the blessing they had long waited for.

Whenever God's grace works in people's souls, it draws them together in the bonds of divine love. That is how it was with Mary and Elizabeth. Gabriel had revealed to Mary that God had also visited her cousin Elizabeth. Mary sensed what God was going to do through her — whether or not she grasped the full meaning of the message she had received. She came to feel that there was one friend to whom she could pour out her soul.

She was carrying news that weighed on her — news of God's faithfulness to His word, and of His unquenchable love for His people. She could not do anything but go "in haste." What thoughts must have filled her adoring heart as she hurried on her errand! She was one of the holy women of Judah, and she knew well the scriptures that spoke of the coming King and the glory of His kingdom. Scriptures such as these: "How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news, who publishes peace, who brings good news of happiness, who publishes salvation, who says to Zion, 'Your God reigns'" (Isaiah 52:7); or again, "Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem! Behold, your king is coming to you" (Zechariah 9:9).

There is nothing more beautiful of its kind than this picture of the fellowship between these devout women. The world did not know them, yet God used them as instruments of His grace to carry out His purpose, and the results are glorious and endless. They keep out of sight, moving in a scene where nothing enters but piety and grace. But God is there, as little known to the world as these poor women were, preparing and carrying out the very thing that angels long to understand in its depths. This takes place in the hill country, where these devout relatives lived.

These devoted women are away from the world, in "a town in Judah," high ground that pictures a high moral level. There they share a precious secret that God Himself has given them. Humility and contented lowliness run through their whole conversation.

Now Elizabeth and Mary come together. I know of no more beautiful example in Scripture of communion in the Holy Spirit than this. Elizabeth was the wife of the high priest; Mary was engaged to a carpenter. Perhaps they would never have met but for this. Now they meet not just in the flesh, but in the spirit... Communion arises when people forget the flesh and act only in the spirit. Elizabeth did not grudge, and Mary was not proud. Elizabeth kept a meek place, and Mary a humble one. There is plenty of social contact today, but too little communion, even among the people of God.

Mary's meek acceptance points to that acceptance of faith which marks her out for all time as blessed among women in her unique position. It also makes her the example for everyone who receives the testimony of God and bows to it. The announcement itself took place between Mary and the angel alone. Now we see the fellowship of these two holy women.

Whenever there is a work of grace in souls they are drawn together in the bonds of divine love. So it was with Mary and Elizabeth. Gabriel had revealed to Mary that God had also visited her cousin Elizabeth. Mary carried a sense of what God would accomplish through her — whether or not she understood the full meaning of the message she had received. It made her feel that there was one friend to whom she could pour out her soul.

Before leaving, however, he had pointed her to Elizabeth as a sign of the power of God at work, to which nothing is impossible. Mary had asked for no sign. Still she "drinks from the brook by the way," and goes "with haste," as one feeling the weight of what had been told her. She goes to seek refreshment with her relative — a woman linked to her in faith, and now also by this new work of God which was beginning to bring about the long-awaited blessing.

Elizabeth had surely learned from her husband Zechariah that her son John was to be the forerunner of the Messiah, the messenger of the Lord promised by Malachi (Mal. 3:1). But of whom, and when, was the Messiah to be born? These questions were still unsolved for her and her husband. Then, suddenly, they were answered. Mary crossed the threshold of her house, greeted her cousin, and the expectant mother of John learned who was to be the mother of her Lord... She knew both Mary's expectations and Mary's faith. When and how did she learn all this? Mary had not had time to speak of it. No whisper of it carried by human means had reached the hill country of Judea. Mary evidently, as Matthew teaches us, had not even told Joseph, to whom she was betrothed (Matt. 1:18-19). How did Elizabeth know? She told it, as only she could: "For behold, when the sound of your greeting came to my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy" (Luke 1:44). The mother of her Lord was there.

Mary then arises, enters the house of Zechariah and greets her relative Elizabeth. This gives occasion to the wonderful homage paid even by the unborn babe, Elizabeth's child, to her who was the predestined mother of the Messiah — homage in honour of the Messiah Himself. As a result, Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. She breaks out in acknowledgment of the place God had given Mary: "And why is this granted to me that the mother of my Lord should come to me?" It is remarkable how her words own that even the child not yet born was the Lord. We find just the same thing with Mary herself. She has no notion of being taken out of the place of a needy sinner.

The message of the angel was not without fruit in the heart of Mary; and by her visit to Elizabeth she goes to acknowledge the wonderful dealings of God. The piety of the virgin shows itself here in a touching way. God's marvellous intervention humbled her, instead of lifting her up. She saw God in what had taken place, and not herself. The greatness of these wonders brought God so near to her that she lost sight of herself.

Nothing of its kind is more beautiful than this picture of these godly women together. The world did not know them. Yet they were the instruments of God's grace for carrying out His purpose, and the results are glorious and endless. They keep out of sight, in a scene where nothing enters but godliness and grace. But God is there. The world knew Him as little as it knew these poor women. And He was preparing and accomplishing what the angels long to explore in its depths.

Mary stepped into her house and greeted her cousin. So the expectant mother of John learned who was to be the mother of her Lord... She knew both Mary's expectations and Mary's faith. When and how did she learn all this? Mary had not had time to speak of it. No whisper of it carried by human means had reached the hill country of Judea. It seems Mary had not even told Joseph, her fiancé, as Matthew teaches us.

What was it that made her address her young relative like that? We are not told that she had heard of the angel's visit to Mary, so how did she know what lay before her? The answer is that she "was filled with the Holy Spirit" (v. 41), and she spoke by divine inspiration.

Here again we have filling with the Spirit before Pentecost, showing how distinct it is from sealing and baptism. With Elizabeth and Zacharias it was clearly like prophecy. Scripture even says that Zacharias prophesied. It was a special visit of the Spirit. For that time it gave them the power to speak their joy and praise in inspired words.

"Full of the Holy Spirit" seems to tell us what usually marked a person's life... "Filled with the Spirit" is different. Scripture uses it of people God takes up for His service, whether for a longer or a shorter time. You can see examples in Elisabeth and Zacharias (Luke 1:41, 67), in the company at Pentecost, and in Peter and Paul.

And earlier still, while yet unborn, He was worshipped, I may say, by the leaping of the child in the womb of Elizabeth, at the greeting of Mary.

Already in his mother's womb he gives his first testimony to the presence of Him who was to come. Then he is kept in the desert until the day he appears publicly to Israel.

Here the living power of the Spirit of God comes with a lowly, humble spirit. It finds delight in the blessing of another, and recognises that Mary is to be the mother of the Lord.

She knew both Mary's expectations and Mary's faith. When and how did she learn all this? Mary had not had time to speak of it. No whisper of it carried by human messenger had reached the hill country of Judea. Mary evidently, as Matthew teaches us, had not even told Joseph, to whom she was betrothed.

The Spirit filled her so that she could speak the inspired words she said to Mary: "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb."

We see at once that Elizabeth, as one "filled with the Holy Spirit," is in complete agreement with the mind of God about Mary. Gabriel had said to her, "Blessed are you among women," and Elizabeth now says, "Blessed are you among women," adding, "and blessed is the fruit of your womb." God's power opened her eyes, so she saw as God saw. She declares His own estimate of the one He had chosen for this singular favour.

It is remarkable how beautifully Elizabeth owns that even the child not yet born was the Lord. We find just the same thing with Mary herself. She has no notion of being taken out of the place of a needy sinner. And the miraculous birth of John does not lessen Elizabeth's sense of the Messiah. It adds to it.

Herself the object of God's favour, she still took the lowest place before the one who was to become the mother of her Lord. Let this instruction sink deep into our hearts: when the Spirit of God is working in souls, He banishes all envy, strife, and jealousy. Love then flows out freely, and humility is the fruit of love. Then she described the effect Mary's greeting had on her, and proclaimed a third kind of blessedness. Mary was blessed as the object of God's sovereign favour. She was blessed as the vessel for the incarnation of our Lord. And she was blessed because of her faith.

The angel tells her she is "highly favoured" (Luke 1:28). Could any woman have a higher favour than to be the mother of our Lord according to the flesh? "Blessed are you among women" is the angel's greeting. "Blessed" she certainly was. Note, it does not say "Most blessed." The language is restrained.

Though the mother of our Saviour, she herself found her Saviour in God.

A woman, alive to the joy of having a son like Jesus, declares aloud the value of such a natural family tie to Him. The Lord puts this blessing, as He did in the case of Mary, on those who heard and kept His word.

Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, breaks out into an acknowledgment of the place God had given Mary. "And why is this granted to me that the mother of my Lord should come to me?" It is remarkable how beautifully she acknowledges that even the child not yet born was the Lord.

The One these women spoke of, the Babe of Bethlehem, will soon be acknowledged as supreme in the universe. But before His birth, before He came into this world in lowly Manhood, Elizabeth's words already bore testimony to His supremacy — "my Lord."

These words are usually translated "lord." People use them as a term of respect between one person and another… Scripture gives the title "Lord" to God (Ps. 90:1, Adonai). In the New Testament it gives the same title to the Lord Jesus, not only as a term of respect, but as owning His constituted lordship (Acts 2:36; Phil. 2:11). For the Christian He is the Lord above all, eclipsing every other, and the Christian delights to claim Him as "My Lord."

How beautiful the language of the older woman calling the Virgin "the mother of my Lord." Surely this was a great revelation she received. With holy reverence we also should use that worthy Name. It has been well said, "Let us remember the deep meaning of the words 'the Lord' and beware of using them lightly and carelessly."

Mary crossed the threshold of Elizabeth's house and greeted her cousin. The expectant mother of John then learned who was to be the mother of her Lord… She knew both Mary's expectations and Mary's faith. Mary had not had time to speak of it. No whisper of it had reached the hill country of Judea by any human means. Mary clearly, as Matthew teaches us, had not even told Joseph, to whom she was betrothed (Matt. 1:18-19). How did Elizabeth know?

What was it that made her address her young relative like that? We are not told that she had heard of the angel's visit to Mary, so how did she know what lay ahead of her? The answer is that she "was filled with the Holy Spirit" (v. 41), and she spoke by divine inspiration.

With her eyes opened by the power of God, she saw as God saw. She speaks God's own estimate of the one He had chosen for this singular favour. Filled with the Spirit, she also acknowledged with meekness and humility that the grace of God had lifted Mary high… She was herself an object of God's favour. Yet she took the lowest place before the one who was to become the mother of her Lord.

Mary had no thought of exaltation. She says, "all generations will call me blessed," but not a blesser. She was the object of blessing, not the giver or mediator of it. "He who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is His name" — not a word of her own. "And His mercy is for those who fear Him from generation to generation" — not for those who pray to or worship me.

Humility and contented lowliness mark their whole conversation… He was the One who filled their vision… Mary herself is content to take the "humble estate" of a "servant." God's mighty thoughts were not to reach their completion in Mary. Someone else has well said of her — "she lost her place if she made anything of herself, but in truth she did not," a helpful word for today!

Mary crossed the threshold of Elizabeth's house, greeted her cousin, and the expectant mother of John learned who was to be the mother of her Lord. We do not know what words Mary used, but we have her answer. It came from a woman filled with the Holy Spirit. She lifted up her voice with a loud cry. She knew both Mary's expectations and Mary's faith. When and how did she learn all this? Mary had not had time to speak of it. No whisper of it carried by human means had reached the hill country of Judea. How did Elizabeth know? She told it, as she alone could declare it: "For behold, when the sound of your greeting came to my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy." The mother of her Lord was there.

Mary then arises, enters the house of Zacharias and greets her relative Elizabeth. This gives occasion to the wonderful homage paid even by the unborn child, Elizabeth's son. He paid it to Mary, the chosen mother of the Messiah, in honour of the Messiah Himself. The result was that Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, breaks out into an acknowledgment of the place God had given Mary. "And why is this granted to me that the mother of my Lord should come to me?" It is remarkable how beautifully she owns that even the child not yet born was the Lord.

On the Lord's approaching John to be baptized, John at once acknowledged Him — acknowledged Him without any introduction. There seems to have been in his soul some consciousness that this was He. He had, indeed, acknowledged Him even before He was born (Luke 1:44). The world knew Him not, but John knows Him, and so condemns the world.

He deprived himself of wine — the sign of joy to the heart of the natural man in the company of his equals. ... This passage shows him as set apart in a special way from everything that makes up the joy of a sociable man. The world, on seeing him, would no doubt have said, "He is a sad and gloomy man who hates people." What a mistake! The world knows only this natural joy. In the prophet's heart another joy took its place — the joy that communion with the Saviour gives.

As Mary entered the house and spoke, the baby in Elizabeth's womb leaped. Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, broke out in a short but beautiful prophecy. Here the living power of the Spirit of God goes together with a lowly humility. She finds delight in the blessing of another, and she recognizes that Mary is to be the mother of the Lord.

The greeting Mary received shows that her visit to Elizabeth was of the Lord. That greeting must have confirmed her faith in a remarkable way. As soon as Elizabeth heard her relative's greeting, it reminded her of her own condition. At the same moment the Holy Spirit filled her and moved her to proclaim the blessedness of the one whom the Lord had so honoured by His grace.

Notice at once that Elizabeth, "filled with the Holy Spirit," shares God's own mind about Mary. Gabriel had said to her, "Blessed are you among women." Elizabeth now says the same, and adds, "and blessed is the fruit of your womb." God had opened her eyes. She saw as God saw, and she spoke His own verdict on the woman He had chosen for this rare honour.

Mary was blessed as the object of God's sovereign favour. She was blessed as the one through whom our Lord came into the world as a man. And she was blessed because of her faith — a faith that rose above every obstacle and rested on the almighty power of God. Like Abraham, she did not waver at the promise of God through unbelief, but "found strength in faith," giving glory to God. She had taken a firm hold of God's word. She had no doubt that He would do what He had promised. She honoured God in this way, and now God gave her, through Elizabeth's lips, the assurance that the Lord's word to her would come true.

God had shown Mary such favour that she asks with holy confidence how this would happen, since it lay outside the natural order. She has no doubt that it would happen — Elizabeth calls her the one who believed.

At the same time she acknowledges that God has shown special favour to Mary's soul. "Blessed is she who believed, for there will be a fulfilment of what was spoken to her from the Lord." Elizabeth knew that unbelief was what had struck her husband. She sets his failure against Mary's humble, believing heart.

She calls Mary the mother of her Lord — the One at whose voice her own baby had leaped for joy. She declares her blessed as well for the faith that received God's message. And what the Lord had spoken to her would surely happen.

Mary was the mother of our Lord as a man. She was "blessed among women," chosen for the highest honour a woman could have. Yet in her song of praise she says, "my spirit rejoices in God my Savior" (Luke 1:47). If Mary had been sinless, she would have had no need of a Savior. But she did need one, just like the rest of us.

Gabriel brought Mary a message from heaven, and she answered, "let it be to me according to Your word" (Luke 1:38). That answer is the language of everyone who rests on what God has said. How simple! How beautiful! Faith never makes itself an object. It looks up to the Lord and says, "I want no better guarantee of certain blessing than the one 'Your word' gives me."

What freshness and joy the person of Christ brings into the fellowship of these saints! Souls overflow. Conversation turns into adoration. Those who talk with one another are bound to learn what worship is.

Her soul (the center of her emotions and affections) magnified the Lord, Jehovah. Her spirit (the center of her understanding and intelligence) rejoiced in God her Savior. In verse 46 the title Lord shows her submission to His authority. In verse 47 she worships the supreme God who in grace became her Savior. She knew she was a sinner who needed His salvation, just as we all do.

She acknowledges God as her Saviour in the grace that has filled her with joy. She also owns her own low place — a picture of the condition of the remnant of Israel. That low place gave God's greatness its opening to act, with full testimony that everything came from Him. Whatever godliness suited the instrument He used — and Mary did have it — she was great only so far as she hid herself. For then God was everything... She would have lost her place by making something of herself, but she did not.

May we all take this blessed lesson to heart. Grace cannot have its full sway in our souls unless we take our true place of nothingness before God.

It is remarkable how simply Scripture answered in advance the monstrous unbelief that lowers God as much as it lifts up a human being. Mary had no thought of exaltation. She says, "All generations shall call me blessed," but not a blesser. She was the object of blessing, not the giver or mediator of it. "For the Mighty One has done to me great things; and holy is His name" — not a word of her own. "And His mercy is to generations and generations to them that fear Him" — not to those who pray to or worship me.

The wonderful burst of praise from Mary's lips beautifully echoes the Old Testament Scriptures. This devout woman knew the Word of God. It filled her heart, and the Holy Spirit used that Word to shape her praise. Her song touches many Psalms, but it reminds us above all of Hannah's inspired song (1 Samuel 2). Notice also Mary's deep humility and her acknowledgment of the need of a Saviour.

Where the Spirit of God does a real work in the souls of His people, their hearts rise to the source their blessing came from. So with Mary. Her first thought is the Lord who had visited her with such indescribable grace... The mighty action of the Holy Spirit merged her individuality into Israel for the moment, so she rejoices in Israel's God and Saviour. She does speak of herself in the next verse, but even then only as the chosen instrument of the blessing that was coming on Israel.

Mary, on the other hand, sees the deliverance as already accomplished — accomplished in the One who was about to be born.

Her soul (the center of her emotions and affections) magnified the Lord, Jehovah. Her spirit (the center of her understanding and intelligence) rejoiced in God her Saviour. In verse 46 she uses the title Lord, which shows her submission to His authority. In verse 47 she worships the supreme God, who in grace became her Saviour. She knew herself to be a sinner who needed His salvation, just as we all do.

Do we not see how soul and spirit act in unison in connection with a saint of God, and the aspirations and emotions Godward, lofty and pure?

We must not omit to notice that Mary spoke of "God my Saviour." Though the mother of our Saviour, she herself found her Saviour in God.

Like all who are taught of God, she recognised her sinful state. She needed a Saviour, and she had found One in God Himself. The immaculate conception is the teaching that the Virgin Mary was born sinless. How can anyone hold it when she herself confessed she was a sinner in finding God as Saviour?

She acknowledges God her Saviour in the grace that has filled her with such joy. At the same time she owns her utter littleness. The instrument God uses may be holy, and Mary was. Even so, she was great only as long as she hid herself, for then God was everything. If she had made something of herself, she would have lost her place. But she did not. God kept her there so that His grace would be fully shown.

Mary had no thought of exaltation. She says, "All generations shall call me blessed," but not a blesser. She was the object of blessing, not the giver of it… "And His mercy is to generations and generations to those who fear Him" — not to those who pray to or worship me.

The wonderful outburst of praise from Mary's lips is a beautiful echo of the Old Testament Scriptures. The devout Virgin knew the Word of God. Her heart was full of it, and the Holy Spirit used the Word to express her praise. Her song touches many Psalms, and above all it reminds us of Hannah's inspired song (1 Samuel 2).

Hannah begins: "My heart rejoices in the Lord." Mary says: "My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior." The heart is tied more to earth and the body. The soul and spirit have closer links with heaven and eternity. But this makes the song of Hannah none the less perfect or profitable to us.

She owns her own low estate — a figure of the condition of the remnant of Israel. That low estate gave occasion for God's greatness to step in, with a full testimony that everything came from Himself.

In the mercy shown to her she saw a pledge. God will finally lift up those who fear Him and scatter the proud and mighty of this world… She had no thought of Israel deserving anything under the covenant of law. Everything depended on the covenant of promise. God was filling the hungry and sending the rich away empty. This is always God's way.

According to the reviewer, the Greek word tapeinosis must be translated in Luke 1:48 as "humiliation." But those who may be supposed to know the language translate it "low estate," as the reader may see in the Revised Version and in the translations of Alford, Wordsworth, Darby, and others. It is plain, too, that Mary was speaking of her outward condition, not of the state of her soul, when she poured out her heart to God.

These words often refer in scripture to a female slave, as applied to Hagar the Egyptian, Gen. 25:12; but were also used by women themselves as a term of humility, as when Hannah spoke to Jehovah and to Eli, 1 Sam. 1:11, 16, 18; as Abigail to David, 1 Sam. 25:24-41; and by Mary and Elizabeth as handmaids of the Lord. Luke 1:38, 48.

Her song is thankfulness for the grace and favour given to her, the lowly one, and it is tied to the hopes and blessing of Israel. I repeat it: Mary is great because she is nothing. Yet God has favoured her in a way that has no parallel, and all generations will call her blessed.

She herself is content to take the "low estate" of a "handmaiden." God's mighty thoughts were not going to be fulfilled in Mary. "Jehovah's Christ" was in view, and in Him alone would God's eternal purpose and the establishing of universal blessing and glory be fulfilled. It has been well said of Mary by another — "she lost her place if she made anything of herself, but in truth she did not," a helpful word in the present day!

It is remarkable how simply Scripture has answered in advance the monstrous unbelief of man, which lowers God as much as it exalts a human being. Mary had no thought of exaltation. She says, "All generations will call me blessed," but not a blesser. She was the object of blessing, not the giver or mediator of it. "He who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is His name" [not a word of her own]. "And His mercy is for those who fear Him from generation to generation" [not that pray to or worship me].

It is true that she speaks of herself here. She says that God has regarded the low estate of His handmaiden (bondsmaid), and that from now on all generations will call her blessed. But even so, this is only as the chosen instrument of the blessing that was coming upon Israel. It was the thought of Israel's salvation out of their low estate that filled her soul.

In verse 48 she recognizes His tender mercy and care for her in her low estate. Hers was an honour that would never fail to draw the respect of all generations. While the great and mighty of this world are forgotten, this lowly, humble woman has an honour that will never be forgotten.

Christ once corrected a woman who called His mother blessed. At first sight His words might seem to clash with Mary's own inspired song. Did she not say that from now on all generations would call her blessed? … Mary was most highly favoured in the flesh, singled out by a supreme distinction. It is even possible that, in a proper desire to steer clear of Roman error, Protestants may have overlooked the remarkable honour given to the Virgin.

The way the overshadowing power of the Highest worked upon Mary is not described. She herself declared, "He who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is His name" (Luke 1:49). The Holy Spirit's work here is secret and beyond our searching. Even so, divine power made certain that the child born of Mary was called the Son of God.

To God she also ascribes infinite power, the mighty One who dealt with her in such power as with no other. But she hurries to add, "and holy is His name." In the world, power knows nothing of holiness. God's power is different: it is sanctified — set apart — from every corrupting element. There too is the gentle, tender side of His character, showing mercy without ceasing to those who fear Him.

It is remarkable how simply Scripture met man's monstrous unbelief in advance. That unbelief lowers God as much as it exalts a human being. Mary had no thought of exaltation. She says, "All generations shall call me blessed," but not a blesser. She was the object of blessing, not the giver or mediator of it. "For He who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is His name" [not a word of her own]. "And His mercy is for those who fear Him from generation to generation" [not that pray to or worship me].

The marvellous intervention of God humbled her, instead of lifting her up. She saw God in what had taken place, not herself. The greatness of these marvels brought God so near her that she was hidden from herself. She yields herself to His holy will. But God fills too much of her thinking here to leave any room for self-importance.

The thought of Israel's salvation out of their low condition filled her soul when she said, "He who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is His name." She adds at once, "And His mercy is for those who fear Him from generation to generation." That shows it was God's chosen Israel that filled her mind.

So when at last the Christ of God became a man, there were those who were in harmony with heaven. They recognised that God had stepped in, and they could rejoice over the birth of the long promised heir. With joy Mary delights to own, "He who is mighty has done great things for me."

The marvellous outburst of praise which comes from Mary's lips is a beautiful echo of the Old Testament Scriptures. She knew the Word of God; her heart was filled with it, and the Holy Spirit used the Word in the expression of her praise. Her words touch many Psalms, and above all they recall Hannah's inspired song (1 Samuel 2). Notice also Mary's deep humility and her acknowledgment of the need of a Saviour.

Mary had no thought of exaltation. She says, "All generations will call me blessed," but not a blesser. She was the object of blessing, not the giver of it. "For He who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is His name" — not a word of her own. "And His mercy is for those who fear Him from generation to generation" — not to those who pray to or worship me.

From verse 46 to 49 she speaks of God Himself: "the Lord," "God my Saviour," "He who is mighty," "holy is His name." But from verse 50 to 55 the stress falls on what He has done. Mercy comes first, then strength (verse 51), by which He humbles the pride of the proud... In verse 52 we see His rule, putting down the mighty of this world and exalting the lowly... Verse 54 tells of His help to His suffering servant Israel, remembering mercy after long years of captivity — and this according to His promise to Abraham and his descendants, not according to the covenant of law.

The natural man is said to lack this quality completely. In the believer it stands out as the ruling principle of action. Whether a person has it or not is the real difference between a true believer and someone who is a hypocrite or is fooling himself. An idea of grace held only in the head, without the fear of God, produces lawlessness... The grace of God is never separable from His fear... Those who hate God dread Him and would run from Him, when they think of Him at all: His fear is the treasure of His children.

The next three verses set out how God acts in grace, and the state of soul needed to receive it. The proud in their own thoughts cannot stand before a holy God in judgment. Neither can the mighty on their thrones, nor the rich and self-sufficient. The gospel is always preached to the poor. God exalts those of low degree, and fills the hungry with good things.

In a genealogy such as Matthew 1, or where the context calls for it as in Luke 1:50, the word "generation" no doubt means a lifetime.

For the moment the mighty action of the Holy Spirit merged her as an individual into Israel, and so she rejoices in Israel's God and Saviour... She adds at once, "And His mercy is for those who fear Him from generation to generation," which shows that God's chosen Israel filled her mind.

She acknowledges God her Saviour in the grace that has filled her with such joy. At the same time she admits her utter littleness. God might use a holy instrument — and Mary truly was one — yet she was only great so long as she hid herself. Then God was everything. By making something of herself she would have lost her place; but this she did not. God kept her, so that His grace might be fully shown.

Mary had no thought of exaltation. She says, "All generations shall call me blessed," but not a blesser. She was the object of blessing, not the giver or mediator of it. "For the Mighty One has done great things for me; and holy is His name" — not a word of her own. "And His mercy is to generations and generations to those who fear Him" — not who pray to or worship me.

Notice that in verses 46 to 49 she speaks of God Himself — "the Lord," "God my Savior," "He that is mighty," and "Holy is His name." But verses 50 to 55 stress what He has done. She names His mercy first, then His strength (verse 51). By that strength He humbles the pride of the ungodly, showing judgment along with strength. He brings down to dust the imaginations and high things that exalt themselves against the knowledge of God.

Pride. There are several words translated this way in the Greek Testament. The one used here (hyperephania) carries the sense of a spirit of self-exaltation in a man, joined with looking down on others. The Pharisees are glaring examples. They trusted in themselves that they were righteous and despised others (Luke 18:9). But the Gentiles are no more free from guilt in this than the Jews (Rom. 1:30). This arrogance shows itself in boastful words and empty deeds. But its origin is within the heart. That line from Mary's song shows it: "he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts." This form of haughtiness is offensive to God and open to His swift judgment. Both James and Peter write that "God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble" (James 4:6; 1 Peter 5:5).

These next three verses set out how God acts in grace. They also show what a soul must be like to receive it. The proud in the imagination of their hearts cannot stand before a holy God in judgment. Neither can the mighty on their thrones, nor the rich, the self-sufficient. It is the poor who always hear the gospel preached. And so it is the lowly whom God exalts, and the hungry whom He fills with good things.

Mary regards the deliverance as already accomplished — accomplished in the One who was about to be born.

Her sense of the extraordinary mercy God showed her in her humble circumstances called out this song. She was descended from David, yet she was only engaged to the humble carpenter of Nazareth. In the mercy shown to her she saw the pledge of the final exaltation of those who fear God, and the scattering of the proud and mighty of this world.

dynastēs, "powerful one." Jehovah is the only Sovereign — 1 Timothy 6:15. The word also occurs in Luke 1:52: Jehovah "has brought down 'the mighty' from their thrones." And in Acts 8:27 the eunuch was a man "of great authority": such men at times had more power than the kings.

In verses 46 to 49 she speaks of God Himself — "the Lord," "God my Saviour," "He that is mighty," and "Holy is His name." But verses 50 to 55 emphasise what He has done. She mentions His mercy first, then His strength (verse 51), which humbles the pride of the ungodly… Verse 52 shows His rule: He puts down the mighty of this world and exalts the lowly. Verse 53 deals with His administration: He fills the hungry with good things and sends the rich away empty. He reverses the cruel order of the world.

Such honours were not given to many who were "wise according to worldly standards"; "not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth" (1 Cor. 1:26). There have been some from these exalted ranks, but they have been the first and most ready to own that they had no claim at all to such distinction. There is a grand song in the Old Testament, sung by a Spirit-inspired woman who knew something about the ways and grace of God. She sang, "He raises up the poor from the dust; he lifts the needy from the ash heap to make them sit with princes and inherit a seat of honour" (1 Sam. 2:8). Mary, the mother of our Lord, had learnt the same great truth… This is God's way and it magnifies His grace; it is such as these that He blesses.

Mary had no thought of exaltation. She says, "all generations will call me blessed," but not a blesser. She was the object of blessing, not the giver or mediator of it… "He has brought down the mighty from their thrones and exalted those of humble estate" — this alludes to her own place as well as Elizabeth's.

She acknowledges God her Saviour in the grace that has filled her with such joy, while at the same time she owns her utter littleness… she was only great so long as she hid herself, for then God was everything. By making something of herself she would have lost her place; but this she did not.

The parables found only in Luke set before us for the most part the tender compassions of God, and that grace of His which flows out without measure wherever there is need. But notice that this grace only reaches those whose need is clear. The parables, like the whole Gospel, illustrate the words of Mary: "He has brought down the mighty from their thrones and exalted those of humble estate; He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich He has sent away empty" (1:52-53). These words may be taken as a key to the Gospel.

The world as we see it today is a barren wilderness. In it the lowly are oppressed, the proud are exalted, and unrighteousness prevails… When the glory of the LORD is revealed, He will deliver His downtrodden people. He will exalt "those of humble estate" — "every valley shall be lifted up." He will humble all the pride of man — He will bring down "the mighty from their thrones" — "every mountain and hill be made low"… The pride and unrighteousness of man are not going to triumph for ever, and the godly will not always be a downtrodden and suffering people. Humility ends in exaltation, and suffering leads to glory.

Verse 53 deals with His administration. He fills the hungry with good things and sends the rich away empty. He reverses the cruel order of the world. The law is left entirely out of Mary's prophecy, for here the glory of God and the person of Christ is the theme. What she says applied at the time, and it will apply again at the end of the Tribulation.

In the mercy shown to her she saw a pledge: God will finally exalt those who fear Him and scatter the proud and mighty of this world... She had no thought of Israel having deserved anything under the covenant of law. All depended upon the covenant of promise. The hungry were being filled and the rich dismissed empty. This is ever God's way.

The proud in the imagination of their hearts cannot stand before a holy God in judgment. Neither can the mighty on their thrones, nor the rich, the self-sufficient. God always preaches the gospel to the poor. So it is those of low degree whom He exalts, and the hungry whom He fills with good things. The Lord Himself taught the same lesson: "Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you shall be satisfied." Then, turning to the other side, He said, "But woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation. Woe to you who are full now, for you shall be hungry." (Luke 6:20-26.)

But if the rich man had no desire and so went away empty, He fills the hungry with good things: He preaches the gospel to the poor (Luke 1:53; 4:18). It was the common people who heard Jesus gladly... The search went through the streets and the lanes of the city, and gathered in all the despised of men — "the poor and crippled and blind and lame." This did not exhaust divine grace. The servant said, "Sir, what you commanded has been done, and still there is room."

Matthew Henry: "None are sent away empty from Christ, but those that come to Him full of themselves."

It is need that brings us to Him first, and makes us to know Him; and in His presence the sense of need, need met by Him, is ever maintained. "I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing," is what no soul in the presence of Christ can say. Rich He is; and for us those riches are available; but the richer He is in our eyes, the poorer we are in our own.

The parables found only in Luke are very different from those in Matthew. For the most part they set before us the tender compassions of God, and that grace of His which flows out without measure wherever there is need. But notice that this grace only reaches those whose need is plain. In the parables, as in the whole Gospel, we see the words of Mary, most blessed of women, illustrated. We may take those words as a key to the Gospel.

Mary had no thought of exaltation. She says, "All generations shall call me blessed," but not a blesser. She was the object of blessing, not the giver of it.

The gathering "every morning" speaks of spiritual diligence. It speaks of an ever-present desire for the spiritual growth that only feeding on the manna can give. But the desire must be there on our part... How sad when the things of this world spoil our taste, so that in our hearts we treat this "bread of the mighty" as "light food."

God never bids us seek Him in vain... "He satisfies the longing soul" (Ps. 107:9). God will not let us lose our longing.

pais, 'a child,' regardless of age, and so used for servant. Matthew 8:6, 8, 13; Matthew 14:2; Luke 7:7; Luke 12:45; Luke 15:26; Acts 4:25. The word is applied to Christ in Matthew 12:18; Acts 3:13, 26 (translated 'Son'); Acts 4:27, 30 (translated 'child'); and to Israel and to David in Luke 1:54, 69.

God has remembered His promises to the fathers, which seemed forgotten for so long. They are mercies only, for Israel's complete failure could allow no claim at all. That made them witness all the more to what was in Him, so they could not fail. The help that came to Israel was only the wrapping around a wider purpose of blessing, which the promise to Abraham declared without any conditions.

Notice carefully how mercy is laid as the ground of Israel here. We know the Psalms, so this will be familiar to us. Paul leaves them on this: "In order that they also may be objects of mercy." All this is the true and full ground of Israel's restoration in the latter day, and casts great light on it. It rests on Abraham alone — not on Sinai, not even on Jacob or Israel. It is a present fulfilment of the promise and covenant made to Abraham by mercy, and that mercy comes from on high.

Verse 54 tells of His help to His suffering servant Israel. He remembers mercy after long years of Israel's captivity. This is according to His promise to Abraham and his seed — not according to the covenant of law. Mary's prophecy leaves the law out completely, for here the glory of God and the person of Christ is the theme. What she speaks had direct application at the time and will also have application at the end of the Tribulation.

Mary regards the deliverance as already done — done in the One who was about to be born. So she says that "God has helped His servant Israel, in remembrance of His mercy; as He spoke to our fathers, to Abraham, and to his seed for ever."

Faith gives substance to the things we hope for. The stretches Israel would have to cross before these words came true were dreary. Yet at this moment Mary looked over the accomplishment of all God's purposes of grace for His earthly people.

The character of the thoughts that fill the heart of Mary is Jewish. It reminds us of Hannah's song in 1 Samuel 2, which speaks prophetically of this same blessed intervention of God. But Mary goes back to the promises made to the fathers, and takes in the whole of Israel.

Verses 69-74 recall both the promises to the fathers and the promise to David's house: "He has raised up a horn of salvation for us in the house of His servant David… to perform the mercy promised to our fathers, and to remember His holy covenant, the oath which He swore to our father Abraham." It is almost needless to say that the earthly blessings were deferred, because the nation rejected Christ.

God has remembered His promises to the fathers, which had seemed forgotten for so long. They are mercies only, for Israel's complete failure could allow no claim at all. All the more did they point to what was in Him, and so they could not fail. The help that came to Israel in fact held within it a purpose of wider blessing, which the promise to Abraham declared without conditions. For in fact the Christ of Israel is the Son of man. The Seed of the woman crushes the serpent's head. Life, righteousness and sanctification are in Him. Crucified in weakness, He is the wisdom of God and the power of God, by grace through faith, alike for all.

She also saw that the coming of her Child would fulfil the promise God made to Abraham — God's unconditional promise. She had no thought of Israel having deserved anything under the covenant of law. All depended upon the covenant of promise. God was filling the hungry and sending the rich away empty. This is always God's way.

"To Abraham" certainly seems to hang upon "to remember mercy," and the "for ever" appears to confirm this. Still, the whole sentence holds together as one idea, for His mercy was much in the promise.

Mary closes her song with the words already mentioned: "He has helped His servant Israel, in remembrance of His mercy, as He spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to his offspring forever." Faith gives substance to what is hoped for. At this moment Mary surveyed the accomplishment of all God's purposes of grace for His earthly people, however bleak the road Israel still had to travel before these words came true. Indeed, everything was both secured and established in the person of Him who was about to be born into this world.

Mary, on the other hand, regards the deliverance as already accomplished — accomplished in the One who was about to be born.

The character of the thoughts that fill Mary's heart is Jewish. It reminds us of Hannah's song in 1 Samuel 2, which speaks prophetically of this same blessed intervention of God. But Mary goes back to the promises made to the fathers, and takes in the whole of Israel.

Again, when Christ came: "as he spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to his offspring forever" (Luke 1:54-55). Verses 69-74 recall both the promises to the fathers and the promises to David's house: "He has raised up a horn of salvation for us in the house of his servant David … to show the mercy promised to our fathers and to remember his holy covenant, the oath that he swore to our father Abraham." It hardly needs saying that the earthly blessings were put off, because the nation rejected Christ.

What she sang then came from the Holy Spirit, whose power had filled her virgin womb with the Lord's incarnate Christ. Those joyful hopes will come true at the appointed time. For the blessings her song has in view are all secured in Him who was raised from the dead.

With the last notes of her song, the record of all that passed between those two ends for us. Yet for about three months those holy women enjoyed each other's company. Then Mary retraced her steps northward to Nazareth, and Elizabeth's full time drew near for the birth of her son.

Wherever there is a work of grace in souls, they are drawn together in the bonds of divine love. So it was with Mary and Elizabeth. Gabriel had revealed to Mary that God had also visited her cousin Elizabeth. She had a sense of what God would accomplish through her, whether or not she understood the full meaning of what she had been told. And she was made to feel that there was one friend to whom she could pour out her soul.

For three months Mary stayed with her elderly relative, and then returned to her own house. Scripture draws a veil over the conversations of these holy women. But we may be sure they helped one another's faith and joy in the Lord. The visit ended, and Mary went back to her home... Meanwhile, that home was the one spot on earth that drew and held the attention of heaven.

After three months with Elizabeth, she returns to her house. She humbly follows her own path, so that God's ways may be accomplished.

They hide themselves. Nothing enters the scene they move in but piety and grace. But God is there, as little known to the world as these poor women were. He is preparing and accomplishing what the angels long to explore in its depths... They hid themselves. But God had visited their hearts and touched them with His grace, and they answered these wonderful visits from above with their shared piety. The grace of God was truly reflected in the calm of a heart that knew His hand and His greatness, trusting His goodness and bowing to His will. We are favoured: we are let into a scene the world shut itself out of by its unbelief and its distance from God, and in which God was at work.

Notice the character of the remnant God had reserved for Himself. Zacharias and Elizabeth were obedient, keeping all the Lord's commandments blamelessly. Simeon was just and devout. He was in step with God's thoughts, waiting for the consolation of Israel... There was Anna at her prayers, serving God with fasting and prayer night and day. There were Joseph and Mary, simple and devout, governed by the mind of heaven. There was nothing of human greatness in any of these. There was nothing to draw the world's attention. But how highly favoured of God they were!

God's promise to Zacharias comes true. Elizabeth gives birth to a son, and her neighbors and relatives rejoice greatly at the great mercy the Lord has shown her.

The name Zacharias means "Jehovah has remembered"; Elisabeth means "My God has sworn." Their childlessness showed how powerless nature is, while their names kept reminding them that God is faithful to His promises.

God's oath (Elizabeth) and His remembrance of His covenant (Zacharias) now bear fruit in the birth of a son. That son will show God's faithfulness and go ahead as the herald of the coming day.

But what godly hearts had recognised in secret, through faith in God's visits to His people, must at last come into the open and be fulfilled where everyone can see. The son of Zacharias and Elizabeth is born. Zacharias obeys the angel's word, and his speech returns. He announces the coming of the Branch of David, the horn of Israel's salvation, in the house of God's chosen King, to carry out all the promises made to the fathers.

John had the high honour of being the only servant of God — apart from the blessed Lord Himself — whose ministry the Old Testament foretold in direct and specific prophecy. This is not because of any greatness in John himself, but because he stood so close to Christ as His forerunner and herald.

Now Elisabeth's full time has come, and she gives birth to the promised son… Israel will do the same. When she has learned to call the child of her old age "the grace of Jehovah," her tongue will be loosed and she will bless God. And the hand of Jehovah will again be with the remnant that He has raised up.

In the Garden of Eden God declared that the woman's Seed would crush the Serpent's head. That was the first word ever spoken about the coming of the great Deliverer, and it came true at the due time. Four thousand years passed between the prediction and its fulfilment. All through those long, long years people of faith waited and watched… until at last the One they looked for appeared. The Daystar from on high visited them, and faith and hope gave way to sight.

Their hearts carried a disappointment that matched the state of things in Israel. "They had no child, because Elizabeth was barren, and both were advanced in years." They had prayed about it, as we learn later. Though Zacharias seems even to have lost sight of his own prayer, yet God had not.

Elizabeth recognises the good hand of God upon her. With the sensitivity that goes with her godliness, she withdraws from public view. The grace that blessed her did not stop her feeling what had been a shame in Israel. The shame was now gone. Yet in people's eyes it left its mark, because God removed it by means far above nature. There was a right-mindedness in this, and it suited a holy woman. But what is rightly hidden from people keeps all its value before God.

What godly hearts recognised in secret, by faith in God's visits, must at last come out into the open and be fulfilled before the eyes of everyone. The son of Zacharias and Elizabeth is born. Zacharias obeys the word of the angel, and his speech comes back. He announces the coming of the Branch of David, the horn of Israel's salvation.

The Gospel of Luke brings out this fellowship with God and with one another and abounds with references to joy. The birth of the Lord's herald, John the Baptist, was to be a matter of joy: "And you will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth" (1:14). John's task was "to make ready for the Lord a people prepared" (1:17). If his birth brought such joy, the birth of the Lord Himself was a subject of even greater joy.

Sometimes we are in distress ourselves, and news comes of another believer's mercies. To welcome it with joy and thankfulness needs great grace. The prosperity of others too often breeds envy in those who lack it. Perhaps you can praise God for mercies given to others while the tears stand in your eyes for your own troubles. That is what flesh and blood never taught you.

Whom does Elizabeth celebrate? Not her son, but the Lord. Zacharias announces the glorious mission of his newborn son. He does it only to exalt the Lord — the God of Israel, the Horn of Deliverance, the Christ, the Most High. With true witnesses it is always so. They use blessings from the hand of God only as occasions of praise to Him who is the source and centre of those blessings.

This grace, Luke's theme, gives its name to the forerunner. His father's name would have pointed backwards: "Jehovah has remembered." The name John points forward to what God is now bringing in: "Jehovah is gracious."

The child was circumcised on the eighth day, and the name was given then, because at that point he entered covenant place and privilege. So the friends suggest that the son of Zacharias should carry his father's name.

The word used here is well rendered by Carr as "were for calling." By Jewish custom, naming a child was separate from circumcising him.

The case of John the Baptist also shows that it was customary to name a child after one of his ancestors. That is why people objected to calling him John. Luke 1:59-63.

This grace, which is Luke's theme, gives the forerunner his name. His father's name would have looked back: "Jehovah has remembered." The child's name looks forward to what God is now bringing in: John, "Jehovah is gracious." Zacharias is silent, just as the whole Old Testament is silent, until faith sets its seal to this new revelation. When he writes, "His name is John," praise bursts out.

Most people thought the child should be called after his father. But the mother, who alone can speak for him, directs that he be called John. They appeal to Zacharias, and he writes, "John is his name." At once the punishment of his unbelief leaves him. His tongue was set free. He spoke and praised God, and that filled everyone around with fear, astonishment, and wonder about what this child would be.

He wrote, "His name is John." That showed he now fully accepted the angel's word, so his son's name was a settled question. At last he believed, though this was faith that follows sight, the true Jewish type. So he could speak again.

When John is born, Zacharias' tongue is set free. He is a picture of Israel. Right now that nation is silent. One day they will acknowledge "the Grace of Jehovah." When they see and believe, the remnant of Israel will praise and bless God… The last written word of the Old Testament is a curse, Malachi 4:6. The first written word of the New Testament is "grace."

In the same way, to this day a veil lies on Israel's heart while the Prophets are read. But wherever a soul bows to the grace of God, praise bursts out, and the Old Testament merges into the New.

Everyone expected the child to be named after his father. But the mother, who alone can speak for him, directs that he be named John.

The case of John the Baptist also shows that it was the custom to name a child after one of his ancestors. That is why people objected to calling him John.

But his mother firmly objected and insisted that John was his name. Zacharias himself settled the dispute by writing that his name was John (v.63). Others were amazed at this, surprised that he would not agree to give his son his own name. But the angel had settled this before.

This grace, which is Luke's theme, gives the forerunner his name. His father's name would have pointed backwards — "Jehovah has remembered." His own name points forward to what God is now bringing in — John, "Jehovah is gracious."

There was meaning in this. Many a name in Scripture has an obvious meaning that holds no special teaching for us, and we have no right to draw conclusions from it about the person or about the times he lived in. But names given by God do carry meaning, and we should pay attention to it. The name of John, announced beforehand by the angel Gabriel, is no exception. "The Law and the Prophets were until John; since then the good news of the kingdom of God is preached" (Luke 16:16). His birth announced a change. The day of grace was dawning. So the child's name — Jehovah is gracious — matched the age about to begin.

"John" means "Favor of Jehovah." It fits beautifully with the names of Zacharias and Elizabeth: "Jehovah remembers the oath of God," and the blessed result of that remembering is "the Favor of Jehovah."

When John is born, Zacharias can speak again. He is a picture of Israel. That people is silent now. One day they will own "the Grace of Jehovah"; when they see and believe, the remnant of Israel will praise and bless God... The last written word of the Old Testament is a curse, Malachi 4:6; the first written word of the New Testament is "grace".

Zacharias is silent, and so is the whole Old Testament, until faith sets its seal to this new revelation. When he writes, "His name is John," praise breaks out. In the same way, to this day the veil lies on Israel's heart while the Prophets are read. But wherever a soul bows to the grace of God, praise breaks out, and the Old Testament flows into the New.

The case of John the Baptist also shows that it was the custom to name a child after one of his ancestors. That is why people objected to calling him John. Luke 1:59-63.

But his mother firmly objected and insisted that John was his name. Zacharias himself settled the dispute by writing that his name was John (v.63). Others marveled at this, surprised that he would not agree to give his son his own name. But the angel had settled this before.

Most people thought the child should take his father's name. But the mother, the only one who can speak for him, tells them to call him John.

This grace, Luke's theme, gives its name to the forerunner. His father's name, "Jehovah has remembered," would have looked back. This name looks forward to what God is now bringing in — John, "Jehovah is gracious."

Names given by God have a meaning, and we should pay attention to it. The name of John, announced beforehand by the angel Gabriel, is no exception. "The Law and the Prophets were until John; since then the good news of the kingdom of God is preached" (Luke 16:16). His birth announced a change. The day of grace was dawning. So the child's name — Jehovah is gracious — matched the era that was about to begin.

When John is born, Zacharias' tongue is set free. He is a picture of Israel. That people is silent now. One day they will acknowledge "the Grace of Jehovah"; they will see and believe, and the remnant of Israel will praise and bless God... The last written word of the Old Testament is a curse, Malachi 4:6; the first written word of the New Testament is "grace" — the name John, which means "Grace of Jehovah."

When he writes, "His name is John," praise bursts out... wherever a soul bows to the grace of God, praise bursts out, and the Old Testament merges into the New.

Zacharias also became speechless — the Greek word used is kophos. But Luke's account makes it clear that he was deaf at the same time (compare Luke 1:22 with 62).

In His goodness, God turns His servant's lack of faith into a correction that teaches him. He also turns it into a proof to the people that God had visited Zacharias from on high. Zacharias cannot speak until the word of the Lord comes true. He makes signs to the people, who wonder why he stayed so long in the sanctuary, and those signs explain the reason to them.

The child was circumcised on the eighth day, and that was when he received his name, since he then entered the place and privilege of the covenant. The friends propose his father's name for the son of Zacharias. But the mother says, "No; he shall be called John," and the father, when they appeal to him, confirms this.

This grace, Luke's theme, gives its name to the forerunner. His father's name would have looked back: "Jehovah has remembered." The son's name looks forward to what is now being brought in — John, "Jehovah is gracious." Zacharias cannot speak, and neither can the whole Old Testament, until faith sets its seal on this new revelation. When he writes, "His name is John," praise bursts out. So to this day the veil lies on Israel's heart while the Prophets are read. But wherever a soul bows to the grace of God, praise bursts out, and the Old Testament merges into the New.

He wrote, "His name is John." This showed that he now accepted the angel's word in full, so the name of his son was settled. At last he believed, though it was faith that follows sight, of the true Jewish type; and so his mouth was opened. He praised God, and filled with the Holy Spirit he prophesied.

Now we see a beautiful thing in Zacharias's mouth being opened. Unbelief had shut it — faith opened it. God does not afflict willingly, but personally — with an end in view. It was very right that he should be silenced for a time. But as soon as possible his mouth was opened, wider than he ever expected.

In a few places this term refers to a tablet which could be written on, as in Habakkuk 2:2; Luke 1:63; 2 Corinthians 3:3.

Also, Zacharias became speechless, but it is clear from Luke's account that he was deaf at the same time (compare Luke 1:22 with 62).

It is evident also from the case of John the Baptist that it was customary to name a child after some of his ancestors. On this ground objection was made to his being called John.

But his mother firmly objected and insisted that John was his name. Zacharias himself settled the dispute by writing that his name was John (v. 63). Others marvelled at this, surprised that he would not agree to give his son his own name. But the angel had settled this before.

He wrote, "His name is John." This showed that he now fully accepted the angel's word, so the name of his son was a settled question. At last he believed, though it was faith that follows sight, of the true Jewish type; and so his mouth was opened.

Now we see a beautiful thing in Zacharias's mouth being opened. Unbelief had shut it — faith opened it. God does not afflict willingly, but personally — with an end in view. It was very right that he should be silenced for a time. But his mouth was opened as soon as possible — wider than he ever counted on.

This grace, Luke's theme, gives its name to the forerunner. His father's name, "Jehovah has remembered," would have suggested a backward glance. Instead this name looks forward to what is now coming in — John, "Jehovah is gracious."

The last written word of the Old Testament is a curse, Malachi 4:6; the first written word of the New Testament is "grace."

When John is born, Zacharias' tongue is set free. He is a type of Israel. That people is silent now. Some day they will acknowledge "the grace of Jehovah"; when they see and believe, the remnant of Israel will praise and bless God.

The angel's words did not promise that the sentence would be lifted when John the Baptist was born. They only made it impossible for it to be lifted before then. And God chose a most fitting and happy moment. Those who rejoiced at the child's birth came together for his circumcision. There they learned from the mother's word and the father's writing that his name was John... So when his father named the child, who was the sign of "these things," his mouth was opened at once, his tongue was loosed, and he spoke and praised God. The angel did not appoint the time eight days before.

The opening of Zechariah's mouth is a beautiful thing. Unbelief had shut it — faith opened it. God does not afflict willingly, but personally — with an end in view. It was right that he should be silenced for a time. But his mouth was opened as soon as possible, and wider than he ever counted on.

No doubt Zechariah was also afflicted with deafness.

Note what immediately brought his speech back. It was his faith and obedience in action. He acted on this faith in God's appointment and in the message of goodness — a message he had earlier doubted could ever come true.

He wrote, "His name is John." This showed that he now fully accepted the angel's word, so the name of his son was settled. At last he believed — though it was faith that follows sight, the true Jewish kind. So his mouth was opened.

On the eighth day after the birth the father's tongue was loosed. He spoke and praised God. Prophecy through a human voice was heard again. It had been silent for ages, and now it burst out afresh as Zechariah blessed God. He blessed Him for visiting and redeeming His people, and for raising up a horn of salvation for them in the house of His servant David. His unbelief had vanished.

This grace is Luke's theme, and it gives the forerunner his name. The father's name would have looked backward: "Jehovah has remembered." The son's name looks forward to what is now being brought in — John, "Jehovah is gracious." Zechariah is silent, and so is the whole Old Testament, until faith puts its seal on this new revelation. When he writes, "His name is John," praise bursts out.

The last written word of the Old Testament is a curse (Malachi 4:6). The first written word of the New Testament is "grace" — the name John, which means "the grace of Jehovah."

Immediately his mouth is opened and his tongue loosed, and he speaks out, blessing God. Israel will do the same. When she has learned to call the child of her old age "the grace of Jehovah," she too will find her tongue loosed, and will bless God. And the hand of Jehovah will again be with the remnant that He has raised up.

As people passed these reports through the region, a serious, reverent fear fell on them. They realised that God was acting in some unusual way.

Zacharias is appealed to and writes, "John is his name." At once the punishment of his unbelief leaves him. His tongue was set free, and he spoke and praised God. This filled everyone around with fear, astonishment, and expectation of what this child would be.

The priestly office has also failed in Israel; her oracle is silent, her witness is one of judgment on herself. The crowds look at her, only to see her unable to speak — until at last her time is fulfilled, and "God's oath" is no longer barren.

For about 400 years the Lord had sent no communication to His people Israel. The silence of heaven is at last broken... The names of the aged and godly couple are significant. Zacharias means "Jehovah remembers," and Elizabeth means "the oath of God." Put the two names together and you get the sentence "Jehovah remembers the oath of God." The time of remembrance had come. Prophecy is about to be fulfilled.

Prophecy begins afresh... Silent for ages, it burst out again as Zacharias blessed God. He blessed Him for visiting and redeeming His people, and for raising up a horn of salvation for them in the house of His servant David.

We must remember all the witness there was in the hill country of Judea — the Simeons, the Annas, and those "who waited for redemption in Israel."

John was born, but the Virgin's Son was not. The forerunner had appeared, so Zacharias believed the Son of David would come. His coming was close at hand... Fear fell on them, and they stored up in their hearts what was now being spread around. A wonderful child was born, but a greater one had yet to appear.

He will go before Him in the spirit and power of Elijah... to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.

Most of them thought the child should be called after his father; but the mother, who alone can speak for him, directs that he be called John. They appeal to Zacharias, and he writes, "His name is John." At once the punishment of his unbelief leaves him. His tongue was set free, and he spoke and praised God. That filled everyone around with fear, astonishment, and expectation of what this child would be.

Notice what brought his speech back just then: he exercised faith and obedience. He acted on that faith in God's appointment, and in the message of goodness he had earlier doubted could ever come true. It was also well suited to advance the purpose for which God sent John. It marked him out as one in whom God had a special public purpose.

This feeling of fear is well worth noticing... It is the way any striking intervention of God affects the mind, until that mind comes to see His purposes, and His way in them, in peace. Those interventions may really be mercy. Yet it is the ignorance of unbelief that does not yet know God as a Friend.

Fear fell on them, and they stored up in their hearts what everyone was now talking about. A wonderful child had been born, but a greater One had yet to appear.

"You shall call his name John," said the angel. He added that the child would be great in the sight of the Lord, and that he would turn many to righteousness. And — notice this — that, as Malachi had predicted, he would go before the Lord in the spirit and power of Elijah. That is where his distinctive greatness lay.

As news of these things spread through the region, a serious, reverent fear fell on the people. They realized that God was acting in some unusual way. He prepared hearts to expect in John an unusual character. "The hand of the Lord was with him," we are told — a subduing, living reality of power.

John needed help to grow and become strong in spirit, and the gospel writer says, "The hand of the Lord was with him." Jesus grew and became strong of Himself, so to speak — though, as man, He lived in complete dependence.

They appeal to the father, and he confirms it. At once his mouth is opened and his tongue set free, and he speaks out, blessing God. Israel will do the same. When she has learned to call the child of her old age "the grace of Jehovah," she too will find her tongue set free, and will bless God. And the hand of Jehovah will again be with the remnant that He has raised up.

Now we see a beautiful thing in Zacharias's mouth being opened. Unbelief had shut it — faith opened it. God does not afflict willingly, but personally — with an end in view. It was very right that he should be silenced for a time. But as soon as possible his mouth was opened — wider than he ever counted on.

When John is born Zacharias' tongue is loosed. He is a picture of Israel. Today that nation cannot speak. Some future day they will acknowledge "the grace of Jehovah." When they see and believe, the remnant of Israel will praise and bless God.

"Full of the Holy Spirit" seems to tell us what usually marked a person's whole life. Scripture describes Stephen and Barnabas this way (Acts 6:5; 11:24)... "Filled with the Spirit," on the other hand, is used of people taken up for God's service, for a longer or a shorter time. We see this with Elizabeth and Zacharias (Luke 1:41, 67), the company at Pentecost, and Peter and Paul (Acts 2:4; 4:8, 31; 13:9).

Here again we have filling with the Spirit before Pentecost, showing how distinct it is from sealing and baptism. With Elizabeth and Zacharias it was clearly much like prophesying. Scripture even says that Zacharias prophesied. It was a special visit of the Spirit. For that time it gave them the ability to express their joy and praise in inspired language.

On the eighth day after the child's birth the father's tongue was set free. He spoke and praised God, and prophecy through a human voice was heard again. Silent for ages, it burst out afresh as Zacharias blessed God, who had visited and redeemed His people... His unbelief was gone. John was born, but the Virgin's Son was not. Since the one who goes ahead had come, he believed the Son of David would follow.

During his months of silence Zacharias had thought long about the ways of the LORD. The Holy Spirit had filled Elizabeth, and had filled the baby from his mother's womb. Now He filled Zacharias too, and Zacharias prophesies where all these wonders are going... Notice how strongly this carries the flavour of Old Testament hopes. The hope here is not only about sins. It is about rescue from their enemies — and that is certainly not, nor should it be, how the Christian feels now. Does not the Christian serve God, delivered from his sins, in the midst of his enemies?

He spoke also, and beautifully, of grace flowing from the tender mercy of their God. By that grace the sunrise from on high would visit them, to give light to those who sit in darkness and the shadow of death... How far Zacharias understood his own words is not for us to decide. But Isaiah 42:6 is in front of us. May it not be that the Holy Spirit held more in His thoughts than a Jew would naturally have sung of — even grace that would reach the Gentiles, as that prophet had foretold?

Even before Christ's birth, and ever after, John the Baptist steps out of sight. He makes way for the universal song that rises around this little child from the lips of all the faithful. Whom does Elizabeth celebrate? Not her son, but the Lord. Zacharias announces the glorious mission of his newborn son, but only to exalt the Lord, the God of Israel, the Horn of Deliverance, the Christ, the Most High. With true witnesses it is always so. They use God's blessings only as reasons to praise Him, who is the origin and centre of those blessings.

Now we see a beautiful thing in Zacharias's mouth being opened. Unbelief had shut it — faith opened it. God does not afflict willingly, but personally — with an end in view. It was very right that God should silence him for a time. But as soon as possible his mouth was opened, wider than he ever counted on.

Prophecy begins afresh. On the eighth day after the child's birth the father could speak again. He praised God, and prophecy through a human voice was heard once more. Silent for ages, it burst out afresh as Zacharias blessed God... His unbelief had vanished.

Luke reports many visits. In Luke 1 Gabriel "appeared" and "came in" (1:11, 28). Mary "entered into the house," and Elizabeth said "the mother of my Lord comes to me" (1:40, 43)... In the next chapter the shepherds in the field find that "there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host" (2:13). But the greatest visit is God's own. Three times we read of this tremendous fact: "God has visited his people" (7:16; see also 1:68, 78)!

"God had visited His people" was, as it were, the response of the multitude at the gate of the city of Nain.

The paying of a price, a full price for the thing or person sold. Anyone who had bought an Israelite, or his property, had to receive the full price in weighed-out money. Only then could he be required to give the man or his land back to the kinsman. In the same way, Scripture shows that our glorious kinsman — the God of heaven and earth, appearing in human flesh — has Himself paid the full price of our redemption. He has paid the debt that lay on us and on our inheritance... And so Scripture calls Jesus a redeemer... He visited and redeemed His people. And the price that He paid was His blood, or Himself.

It is remarkable, the grace that does not so much look at his own house as at the house of God's servant David. There was faith here. While he could not speak, Zacharias thought deeply about the ways of the LORD. The Holy Spirit had filled Elisabeth, and had filled the baby from his mother's womb. Now He filled Zacharias too, and Zacharias prophesies the end of these wonders.

He spoke of the coming of Christ as though it had already happened. He celebrated the effects of His coming as though they were already complete. This is a common feature of prophecy. It speaks of things as done which are still in the future.

The LORD, the God of Israel, had visited and redeemed His people, he declared. There is no question that this is accomplished, though the people were not yet free... It is in Christ that God has visited His people, He who is raised up as a horn of salvation in the house of David. The horn speaks of potential power. Israel was looking above all for power in salvation. They little realized that this must involve great suffering and death for the Messiah.

Horns in Holy Scripture stand for power... In his great prophecy by the Holy Spirit, Zacharias blessed the Lord God of Israel. He blessed Him for raising up a horn of deliverance, or salvation, in the house of David His servant. No doubt Psalm 132:17-18 was in his mind as he said these words. There the Psalmist said, "There I will make a horn to sprout for David... his enemies I will clothe with shame." Zacharias expected that this prophecy, and many more like it, were about to be fulfilled in the baby who would be born in David's house.

A note in the New Translation may help the reader with the meaning of the word "salvation" in this scripture. That translation gives it as deliverance in the text, and its note on verse 77 says, "Or 'salvation.' Same word as in verse 69. 'Saved' in verse 74 is a different word."... But it is plain, if you look up the various passages where the word "salvation" occurs, that the scriptural idea is deliverance.

Clearly, the house of David does not mean a physical house. It means the family of David, including his descendants down the generations. Many Old Testament references show this too (e.g. 1 Ki. 12:19, 20; 13:2), including some made centuries after the time of David (e.g. Isa. 7:2, 13).

At a time when the House of David had sunk into obscurity and poverty, Heaven began to move to keep the promises... The stable and the manger are lit with a glory beyond anything we can think, and lifted for all time above the grandest palace.

How remarkable is this grace: it does not look so much at his own house as at the house of God's servant David. There was faith here. While he could not speak, Zacharias thought deeply about the ways of the Lord. The Holy Spirit had filled Elisabeth, and had filled the baby from his mother's womb; now He filled Zacharias, who prophesies where all these wonders lead.

That horn of salvation was the still unborn child of Mary, and a man now filled with the Holy Spirit announced Him. The Spirit has so large a place in all these scenes and events! How clear God's hand is here!

It is interesting to notice that his prophecy fills twelve verses. Eight of them speak of the One he calls the horn of salvation, and only four of his own child, the prophet of the Highest! But when the Holy Spirit speaks, He always glorifies the Lord Jesus as His brightest theme.

Jehovah, God of Israel had visited and redeemed His people, he declared. There is no doubt that this will be done, though the people were not yet free... The horn speaks of power held ready, for Israel was looking above all for power in salvation. They hardly realised that this must involve great suffering and death for the Messiah.

Zacharias might speak of Him as "a horn of salvation (or deliverance) for us in the house of David" (Luke 1:69); but chapter 3:6 says, "all flesh shall see the salvation of God"... It is indeed for the nation of Israel, but it is also for the world.

Prophecy begins afresh. On the eighth day after the child's birth the father could speak again. He spoke and praised God, and once more people heard prophecy come through a human channel. It had been silent for ages. Now it burst out afresh as Zacharias blessed God for visiting and redeeming His people, and for raising up a horn of salvation for them in the house of His servant David. His unbelief had vanished.

Christ is the centre of God's thoughts, and it is the great work of the Spirit to point to Him... Whoever spoke for God was simply and only His mouthpiece. The human side of inspiration is simply this: God uses human instruments to convey His thoughts perfectly.

Men heard them speak in a completely natural way, as one man might speak to another. But the words they spoke were the words of God, put into their mouths by the Holy Spirit... Nothing less than verbal inspiration is affirmed of the Old Testament prophets. What they gave expression to were the words of the living God.

Scriptures such as these show the unchangeable character of God. There has been no alteration in His purposes and of course none in His Being.

God announced the redemption and salvation of His earthly people "by the mouth of His holy prophets, who have been since the world began." But the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot, was foreknown before the world began.

In the Old Testament it is nearly always salvation from enemies that is before us, as Zechariah, the father of John the Baptist, stated. In his prophecy he said that the holy prophets, raised up since the world began, had promised this: God would save Israel from their enemies and from the hand of all who hate them. The New Testament in its very first chapter speaks of Jesus saving "His people from their sins" (Matt. 1:21). This at once lifts the whole matter on to a much higher platform.

The angel Gabriel had said that nothing will be impossible with God, and Zacharias added his Amen to that. He spoke with no uncertain note about what was still future: John was born, but the Virgin's Son was not. The forerunner had appeared, so the Son of David, he believed, would come.

Zacharias prophesies. He praises God for the fulfilment of His promises spoken by the mouth of His holy prophets... He sees the blessings of the promised Kingdom and the blessed results of the visit of the dawn from on high... The fulfilment of Zacharias' prophecy takes place with the second coming of the Lord.

Both the Old and the New Testament speak much about salvation. In the Old Testament it is almost always salvation from enemies that is in view, as Zechariah, the father of John the Baptist, said. The New Testament in its very first chapter speaks of Jesus saving "His people from their sins" (Matt. 1:21). This at once lifts the whole matter on to a much higher platform.

The Song is completely and distinctly Jewish in character. It sets out the promised mercies fully and exactly, and celebrates their fulfilment. This, he says — or rather the Spirit testifies through him — is the horn of salvation in the house of David. It is the answer to all the hopes the prophets' words had raised. It is the salvation, the long-awaited "deliverance from enemies" and from "those that hate us."

The horn speaks of potential power. It was above all power in salvation that Israel was looking for. They little realised that this must involve great suffering and death for the Messiah. Zacharias gave no hint of this, though he mentions the remission of sins (v.77).

No doubt Psalm 132:17-18 was in his mind as he said these words. There the Psalmist said, "There (in Zion) I will make a horn to sprout for David… His enemies I will clothe with shame." Zacharias expected that prophecy, and many more like it, to be fulfilled soon in the child to be born in David's house. Sadly, that was not to be.

The godly remnant of Israel looked for salvation when the Messiah came — salvation from their enemies, and "by the remission of their sins" (Luke 1:71, 77)… But the nation rejected and crucified the One who was God's salvation. Even so, Israel's evil served to make known the infinite wisdom of God. He used the rejection of His Son as the occasion to lay the basis in redemption, so that those who believed in Christ would have the remission of their sins. The salvation from their enemies that Zacharias spoke of will come to the remnant who look for Him. Christ "was once offered to bear the sins of many," and He will appear "a second time… to save those who are eagerly waiting for him" (Heb. 9:28).

Notice how strongly this carries the flavour of Old Testament hopes. It is not a question of sins only, but of being delivered from their enemies. That last point is surely not the feeling of the Christian now, and it ought not to be. Does the Christian not serve God, delivered from his sins, while surrounded by his enemies? So when the Lord comes, it simply means taking him up out of the middle of his enemies at the time of deliverance.

Salvation from enemies can mean physical enemies or spiritual ones. With Israel it was physical enemies, like the Egyptians and the Canaanites. With Christians it is spiritual ones — sin, death, the world and the power of Satan. Salvation in this sense is by the power of God. Luke 1:71.

He spoke of the coming of Christ as though it had already happened. Prophecy often does this: it speaks of things as done which are still in the future. In the coming appearance of Christ, Zacharias saw the Lord God of Israel visiting His people to redeem them. The salvation He would bring would deliver them from all their enemies. It would enable them to serve Him in freedom, in holiness and righteousness all the days of their life. All this would fulfil His promise and oath to Abraham. Notice how the Holy Spirit inspired him to refer to the unconditional promise to Abraham, just as Mary had done. Israel's blessing will be on that basis and not on the basis of the covenant of law.

Notice how much this carries the flavour of Old Testament hopes. It is not a question of sins only, but of rescue from their enemies. That last is surely not, and should not be, how the Christian feels now. Does not the Christian serve God, delivered from his sins, in the middle of his enemies? So when the Lord comes, He simply takes him up out of the middle of his enemies, at the time of deliverance.

In Israel's future deliverance Zacharias expresses the desire that Israel might serve God in holiness and righteousness all the days of their life. This will be true in the Millennium, when all their fears will be gone (v.74).

latreuo is another word three times translated "worship," though its usual rendering is "to serve." The word is linked to latron, "hire." So its original force is "serving for pay," not under compulsion like a slave. But Biblical Greek has lifted the word, and its noun latreia, "service," to a higher use. It never expresses any service except that of God, or of false gods. So it answers most fully to the present sense of "worship," and all true service shares this character.

I grant that many of the blessings are shared, such as "in holiness and righteousness before him," faith resting on Messiah and the new birth. There are, of course, general principles which mark all the people of God in every age. But I say that this prophecy as a whole is not in any way a charter of church privilege. It is still unfulfilled, and it rests plainly on the oath sworn to Abraham.

When a man faces the reality of his guilt, he cannot help being filled with dread. But to every soul whose confidence is in Christ and in the precious blood He shed, the divine message is, "Fear not." Such people have a right to know that their sins are fully atoned for and put away for ever. Their hearts turn gratefully to the God of infinite love who provided such a costly sacrifice for them. Love at once drives out dread… From that moment we "serve Him without fear, in holiness and righteousness before Him all the days of our life."

He spoke of the coming of Christ as though it had already happened. He celebrated its effects as though they were already complete. This is a common feature of prophecy: it speaks of things as done which are still in the future. … The salvation He would bring would free them from all their enemies. It would let them serve Him in freedom, and in holiness and righteousness all the days of their life. And all this would be in fulfilment of His promise and oath to Abraham. … Israel's blessing will be on that basis and not on the basis of the covenant of law.

On "piety," the Greek hosiotēs, Carr says: "A conscientious obedience to God. … a wider word than dikaiosynē, obedience to law."

When the truth governs and orders our thoughts and affections, there will be a good conscience, and a holy and righteous walk with God and before men. … Righteousness is careful attention to what we owe to God and to man. As the apostle says, "So I always take pains to have a clear conscience toward both God and man" (Acts 24:16). This is practical righteousness — a righteousness which gave the apostle amazing courage, holy boldness, when he stood up before his enemies. Holiness is what repels evil — it turns away by instinct from whatever is against God.

When a man sees the reality of his guilt, dread is bound to take hold of him. … But to every soul whose confidence is in Christ and in the precious blood He shed, the divine message is, "Fear not." They have every right to know that their sins are fully atoned for and put away forever. Their hearts turn gratefully to the God of infinite love who provided such a costly sacrifice for them. Dread is at once displaced by love. "There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear" (1 John 4:18). God then gives them the Holy Spirit. He is not the spirit of fear, but the Spirit of sonship, by whom they cry, "Abba, Father" (Rom. 8:15).

In Israel's future deliverance Zacharias expresses the desire that Israel might serve God in holiness and righteousness all the days of their life. This will be true in the Millennium, when all their fears are gone.

It is important to observe how thoroughly this has the flavour of Old Testament hopes. It is not just a question of sins, but of deliverance from their enemies. That last hope is certainly not, and ought not to be, how the Christian feels now. Does not the Christian serve God, delivered from his sins, in the middle of his enemies?

When we yield ourselves wholly to God, and sin no longer reigns in our mortal bodies, the life will show itself in holiness and righteousness. Our members are no longer to be under the control of our old master, sin, but we are to serve God without fear in holiness and righteousness all our days. The new life is to be the ruling life. Our mortal bodies, with all their members, are to be instruments, wholly at God's disposal. We have become His servants.

In this verse he speaks to his child John, to say that he will be called the prophet of the Highest. John goes before the face of the Lord to prepare His ways, a herald of One infinitely greater than himself. Because of this great honour, no greater prophet had ever risen than John. No one else had a place like this (Luke 7:28).

He had inspired no prophets since the days of Malachi, an interval of 400 years. Then He spoke by the mouth of Zacharias the priest about his infant son John... Isaiah had long before foretold the forerunner of the Messiah (Isa. 40:3). That herald had now come.

The child whom God had given to Zacharias and Elizabeth would go before the face of Jehovah to prepare His ways. For the Son of David was Jehovah. He came according to the promises, and according to the word by which God had announced that His glory would be shown.

"You will go before the Lord to prepare His ways" — clearly an allusion to Malachi (Mal. 3:1) as well as to Isaiah.

Jesus was conceived by the Holy Spirit, and born Son of God, and Son of the Highest. But John was only the prophet of the Highest. He was honoured to be the forerunner of our Lord, yet his own testimony was that he was not worthy to untie the strap of His sandal.

It is worth noticing that his prophecy runs to twelve verses. Eight of them go to Him whom he calls the horn of salvation, and only four to his own child, the prophet of the Highest! But when the Holy Spirit speaks, He always glorifies the Lord Jesus as His brightest theme.

He is the messenger of the Lord Himself, sent to prepare His way before Him... He cries, "Prepare the way." The way by which the Lord could enter was repentant hearts: convicted of sin, confessing their guilt, seeing that the flesh was finished, with death and grace as their only resource.

Twice over John the Baptist said of the Lord Jesus, "I did not know Him" (John 1:31-33). This is striking in the light of the words of John's father, Zacharias... John's mother and Jesus' mother were related, and that is enough evidence that John would know Jesus as a natural relative. But it took a revelation from God to bring John into the secret of who Jesus really was. His father's words, though he remembered them, would not be enough. God had to reveal to him the glory of Jesus.

Verses 76 and 77 refer directly to John, who had just been born. He was to go before the face of Jehovah preparing His ways. He was to give knowledge of salvation to His people by the remission of their sins. He did this, as Luke 3:3 records, in connection with his baptism. Notice that "His people" here takes on a somewhat new sense — not Israel as a nation, but the believing remnant within that people. Everything rests on mercy, even with John and his Elijah-like ministry.

This is part of a song of praise to "the Lord God of Israel," who "has visited and redeemed His people, and has raised up a horn of salvation for us in the house of His servant David." So when Zacharias speaks of "us," or of "God's people," he means Israel. The salvation John was to proclaim, the remission of sins he was to announce, and the "dayspring" (the dawn) that had visited the people are all national in kind.

Aphesis (from aphiemi, to "let go," and so "to let go free from a charge") was to mark John the Baptist's testimony: "to give knowledge of salvation to his people by the remission of their sins." (Luke 1:77.) So we find him preaching "the baptism of repentance for the remission of sins." (Mark 1:4; Luke 3:3.) When God lets a person go free of the charge, He must do it in righteousness. So we read in Hebrews 9:22 that "without shedding of blood" there could be "no remission."

The knowledge of salvation comes through the remission of sins, as we know from Luke 1:77. When God speaks of remission, He does not mean something true in His heart about us before we knew it. He means forgiveness actually given to us... And we see what salvation is according to Scripture — not just the giving of life, but the position we are consciously brought into, by faith in the testimony of Christ's finished work.

It puts me in the place where Christ is. So even from John the Baptist's father we learn it was "to give knowledge of salvation to His people." This knowledge comes by the Holy Spirit. I know that Christ is at the right hand of God, and that He is the One who bore my sins. If the work had not been complete, finished and accepted, He could not have been there. But it was God who raised Him from the dead.

In Old Testament times the Jews did not know this full forgiveness. They got a kind of absolution for each sin they committed. The veil shut them out of the most holy place, where God revealed Himself... That one work, done once for all and never to be repeated, really does give peace to the conscience. It is the ground on which we have eternal redemption and full forgiveness, so that God remembers our sins and lawless deeds no more.

"To give knowledge of salvation to his people in the forgiveness of their sins." It is not that the Jews will be without the remission of their sins; they will have that beside deliverance from their enemies.

We receive the forgiveness of sins that comes with salvation (see Luke 1:77) once for all. It is a blessing that is always ours. But if we, the children of God, sin, that sin interrupts our communion with Him, and we need forgiveness to restore that communion.

Verses 76 and 77 refer directly to John, who had just been born. He was to go before the face of Jehovah preparing His ways. He was to give knowledge of salvation to His people by the remission of their sins... Notice that here "His people" takes on a somewhat new sense. It does not mean the whole nation of Israel, but the believing remnant within that people. All is on the ground of mercy, even with John and his Elijah-like ministry. It is "the remission of their sins on account of the bowels of mercy of our God."

The Servant of Jehovah, the "dayspring from on high," had visited His people for the remission of sins, not for their judgment. His mission came from the tender mercy — the heart of mercy — of God Himself. It stays true that judgment will overtake every evil work. Yet in the house of Levi the tax collector, the mercy of God gloried against judgment.

The word comes from "to arise up." Elsewhere it is translated "east," because the sun rises in the east. Here Christ is compared to the spring of day from on high, the true heavenly light, "to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace."

The "Dayspring from on high" is an especially lovely description of Christ. Alternative words for "Dayspring" would be "Daydawn" or "Sunrising." His coming was indeed the dawning of a new day. Every earthly sunrise has been, to human eyes, from beneath upwards. This one was "from on high," that is, from above downwards. The Spirit of God moved Zacharias to announce the dawning of a new day. Its full wonder was still hidden from his own eyes.

It was not yet time for the day of Christ to dawn. But as the Dayspring, the beams of Messiah's light were springing up — not to announce the day, but to give light to His faithful remnant and bring them the "knowledge of salvation... by the remission of their sins." It was the same light that would light up the earth in a coming day, but it now brought the knowledge of God to His people.

How far Zacharias understood the full meaning of his words is not for us to determine. But with Isaiah 42:6 before us, may it not be that the Holy Spirit meant more than a Jew would have thought to sing of — even grace that would reach the Gentiles, as that prophet had foretold?

Jesus did not appear in might and glory but in humility and grace. Luke emphasises the grace of God. He speaks of the tender mercy of our God, "whereby the sunrise shall visit us from on high," to shine on those sitting in darkness and in the shadow of death. Only in his gospel do we find parables like the good Samaritan and the prodigal son. Only Luke tells us that the thief on the cross received pardon at the point of extreme helplessness, just hours before the end of his life.

The word is from "to arise up." Luke 1:78. It is elsewhere translated "east" because that is where the sun rises. Christ is here compared to the spring of day from on high, as the true heavenly light.

"Dayspring" could also be rendered "Daydawn" or "Sunrising." His coming was indeed the dawning of a new day. Every earthly sunrise has been, to human eyes, from beneath upwards. This one was "from on high" — that is, from above downwards.

The words "Valley of the Shadow of Death" mean simply this earth, the place where death reigns. Death is the "King of Terrors." And the one who has the power of death is the devil, "the prince of this world" and "the god of this world." The whole scene around us bears the stamp of death. It lies under the shadow — that is, under the power — of death.

When Zacharias speaks of "us," or of "God's people," he means Israel. So the salvation John was to proclaim was national. So was the forgiveness of sins he was to announce, and so was the "dayspring" which had visited the people. God's grace may have enlarged the scope of the prophecy. But in the mouth of Zacharias, its terms and its meaning were simply Jewish.

How far Zacharias understood the full meaning of his words is not for us to decide. But Isaiah 42:6 stands before us. May it not be that the Holy Spirit included more in His thoughts than a Jew would naturally have sung of? He included even grace that would reach the nations, as that prophet had foretold.

The Lord came the first time when they were in bitter degradation under the Gentiles, and in moral darkness too. It will be even more so when He comes again. There will be bondage again under the power of the West. A foreign king will reign in the land, and a special deceiving power of Satan will be there. But the Lord will appear, to the defeat of all their foes and the full deliverance of His people Israel.

At His first coming Jesus came as the dawning of a new day, bringing light to those sitting in darkness. But the Jew rejected the light. As far as they were concerned, they put it out. So He was given as a light for the nations, to be God's salvation to the end of the earth. His second coming will be in "the day of Your power," when "Your people will offer themselves freely." Then at last they will come into the full blaze of that light. They will reflect it, as the moon reflects the light of the sun.

He saw that it meant the bringing in of both light and peace for men... When He came out in His public ministry the light began to shine. The way of peace was well and truly laid in His death and resurrection. Right after that, the feet of His disciples were led into it... In the first glimpse we have of him he is a troubled and fearful man. His last word recorded in Scripture is "peace."

Verse 80 summarizes the whole of John's life up to the opening of his ministry. God dealt with him in secret in the deserts, educating him in view of his solemn preaching of repentance in the days to come.

John, we are told, grew not only in body but also in strength of spirit. He sought the presence of God, living almost alone in the deserts. This was a very unusual life for a man born into the priesthood of Israel. Yet John sought no recognition from the high priest or any other authority. In this lonely way God was preparing him for his special work.

To be a Nazirite is, as we have seen, the first condition necessary to the normal development of the man of faith. Then the Spirit can work to make us grow, and to strengthen us with might in the inner man... we shall be like a tree planted in good soil, watered by living streams, and open to the sun's life-giving rays.

John needed help to grow and become strong in spirit. Luke says, "The hand of the Lord was with him." (Luke 1:66.) Jesus grew and became strong of Himself, so to speak — though as man He lived in complete dependence. In Luke we find the perfection of this unfolding. The flower is in bud, not a blemish; it is in full bloom, not a defect.

The Roman "beast" was at the height of its prosperity, and stable as no empire before it. Its government, army, art and religion — even the Jewish religion — were highly organized. Life under such a system was pleasant, and nothing like the desert... John the Baptist found nothing there to attract him. He was in the desert, completely and openly separated from the world. So God sent him out of the desert to prophesy in the middle of the world and all its noise. There his heart met emptiness and silence. He calls himself "the voice of one crying in the wilderness," for the world was a wilderness to him... His life and experience in the wilderness qualified John the Baptist to be the "voice" of the One who makes Himself heard there.

Like all God's servants in every age, Gideon went through secret training and discipline before he was fit to appear in public. The training may last longer or shorter, and the discipline may take different forms. But of this we may be sure: everyone God will use in public must first be taught by God in private. It is a fatal mistake to rush into a public place without the right equipment. Only the secret of God's presence can give it.

We are told nothing about how he spent his time in the deserts before he began his ministry. All the interest falls on Him who was to come. So we read of His birth in detail, and we are told about His early life too. At last the time drew near for His public appearance to Israel. Then John the Baptist began his ministry, designed "to make ready for the Lord a people prepared."