There was in the days of Herod, the king of Judaea, a certain priest, by name Zacharias, of the course of Abia, and his wife of the daughters of Aaron, and her name Elizabeth.
Luke's Gospel now names its first date and its first people: a king, a priest, a wife, and a week of temple duty. Every detail here is ordinary. Yet each one reports the state of Israel at the moment God broke a long silence.
Luke has told his friend why he writes. Now he starts the story itself, and he starts it plainly.
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 date is not neutral. Who Herod was, and where his family came from, shows how far Israel had fallen.
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.
The phrase points to an arrangement set up long before and still running. Older translations spell Zechariah as "Zacharias."
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.
The public state of things was ruined. That is not the whole picture.
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.
Rank counts for nothing here.
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.
The couple's names are not incidental.
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.
- Remembered. Zacharias means "Jehovah remembers" and Elizabeth "the oath of God." Together they spell out what God was about to do after four hundred years of silence.
- Remembered under Herod. The date fixes the low point: an Edomite, a son of Esau, ruling the people he was meant to serve, under Rome.
- Remembered in the temple. Ezra's priestly courses were still turning. Abijah was the eighth, and each course served a week.
- Remembered in a few. In all the disorder, God's Spirit was working in a few. What kept them walking rightly was faith in the coming Messiah.
- Remembered through the overlooked. The high priest gets no mention. Grace starts with an ordinary childless couple, the picture of Israel's desolation.
And they were both just before God, walking in all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord blameless.
Luke's story starts in the temple, with an elderly priest and his wife. Israel was under a foreign ruler and its religious life was in disorder, yet God singles this couple out. What does it mean to call them righteous before God? And in what sense was their walk blameless?
Israel's public condition was low. Even so, some people still lived godly lives. One commentator names the one thing that made that possible.
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.
What kind of righteousness is this? One writer draws a line, then makes it practical.
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.
One dictionary traces the word translated "blamelessly" through its other uses.
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).
They were not alone. Luke's opening chapters show a few others of the same character.
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.
Their obedience was not what brought heaven near. One writer points to what did.
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.
Soon after this, Zacharias doubted what the angel told him. One writer turns that back on us.
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.
- Faith first. Their blameless walk did not come from law-keeping. It came from looking past the law to the coming Messiah. Those who only rested in the law broke it.
- Then daily life. This righteousness is daily conduct that pleases God. It is not the righteousness believers have through the work of Christ.
- Then a clean record. "Blameless" means there was nothing to accuse them of. The same word shows the first covenant was not faultless, so a second one was needed.
- Hidden but known. They belonged to a small company that the powerful never noticed. Their hearts were fixed on the Lord's Christ, and being known by Him was enough.
- Need opened heaven. Heaven opened to them at the point of their need, not their record. Their barrenness and old age were where the real blessing came in.
And they had no child, because Elizabeth was barren, and they were both advanced in years.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And it came to pass, as he fulfilled his priestly service before God in the order of his course,
Luke's Gospel opens with a work roster: a priest reporting for his turn of duty in the temple, in a land ruled by Herod. It reads like an administrative detail, yet this is where heaven breaks in on an ordinary working day.
Luke sets the story inside Israel's old order. Herod's reign gives the date, and a priest is the first person we meet.
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.
The divisions worked as a rota. Older translations call a priest's group his "course".
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.
This rota outlasted the exile.
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).
The scene is not a golden age. It is real devotion inside a religion that had mostly gone hollow.
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.
The priesthood itself had not died out.
Luke 1 confirms it. The priesthood had been kept up, and we see a priest serving "before God in the order of his course".
Zacharias was doing what his turn required, nothing more. That plain obedience is where God answered a prayer he had lost sight of.
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."
Nothing announced the change in advance.
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.
- Order. The twenty-four divisions went back to David. Ezra restored them after the exile, and they still ran in Zacharias' day. Each one served a week, Sabbath to Sabbath.
- Office. As priest he stood between God and the people. They prayed outside while he made intercession inside. Grant notes that this was God's order for Israel, and not the order in the Church today.
- Ordinary. He was doing nothing exceptional, only what "daily duty" required of him that week.
- Overlooked. He had prayed for a child and lost sight of the prayer. God had not.
- Opening. Heaven broke in with no warning signs — at the usual altar, in the middle of ordinary life. The real devotion left in a formal system was small, but God met it there.
it fell to him by lot, according to the custom of the priesthood, to enter into the temple of the Lord to burn incense.
Luke opens his account of the Messiah not in a palace but in temple routine, where an aging priest draws the lot to carry incense into the holy place. The details are small — a turn of duty, a custom, a lot — yet commentators find in them the state of Israel, God's sovereign hand, and a picture of Christ Himself.
Luke passes over the famous names of the day and settles on an ordinary priest and his wife.
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.
What made him ready for the moment was simply that he was at his post, doing what the day required.
"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."
The system behind that lot was old and carefully ordered. The task Zacharias drew was the rarest one a priest could get.
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.
Behind what looks like chance, one writer sees a choice made by God.
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.
The same writer draws a line between two things the sacrificial system kept distinct — and notes which one comes first in Luke's story.
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.
The timing matters too. The announcement came while that fragrance was rising.
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.
The phrase names an exact spot. One commentator asks whether that spot carries meaning of its own.
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."
One man went inside. Everyone else stayed outside. Writers point to how different things are now.
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.
The change shows in how far a worshipper may now go in.
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.
- Duty. Zacharias was keeping his turn of service, faithful to the daily duty, when God met him.
- Lot. The lot gave him the most prized task a priest could receive. Writers see God's sovereign will behind it.
- Incense. What rose from that altar pictures Christ Himself — His excellence to God, coming before the blood in the order of the story.
- Place. He stood in the holy place as the priestly remnant. The announcement came there, not out to the watching world.
- Access. He went in alone while the people waited outside. That distance is now gone for those who draw near through the blood of Jesus.