Luke 1:5–25

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.