And her neighbours and kinsfolk heard that [the] Lord had magnified his mercy with her, and they rejoiced with her.
The child promised to Zacharias and Elizabeth is born, and the news travels fast. Two things stand out: Luke calls the birth mercy, and one woman's joy becomes the joy of a whole circle.
The mercy shown to Elizabeth was not a sudden idea. It answered a prayer this couple had made long before.
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.
Childlessness carried a sting in Israel. Elizabeth felt it. Even after God lifted it, she withdrew from public view instead of parading what He had done.
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.
Until now this had been a private matter between God and two believing hearts. The birth changes that, and the neighbours are the first to see it.
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.
This joy is the first of many in Luke. And the messenger's birth is not the greatest of them.
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.
Sharing someone else's good news sounds easy until your own circumstances are hard.
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.
Neighbours and relatives gathered around a newborn, yet nobody in this chapter ends up celebrating the baby.
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.
The name given to the child looks in the same direction.
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."
- Mercy asked — the child was the answer to prayers so old that the one who prayed them had lost sight of them. God had not.
- Mercy given — Luke calls it mercy because a real shame lay on her, and only God could lift it.
- Mercy published — what faith held in retirement had to come into the open, in full view of ordinary people.
- Mercy shared — the neighbours rejoice with her. Welcoming another's blessing while your own eyes are wet takes grace that nature never gives.
- Mercy praised — the joy does not stop at the baby. Every voice in this chapter turns to the Lord, who is the source and centre of the blessing.
And it came to pass on the eighth day they came to circumcise the child, and they called it after the name of his father, Zacharias.
On the eighth day the family gathers for the circumcision of Elisabeth's newborn son. Everyone assumes the boy will carry his father's name. But an angel had already named him. The whole scene turns on one question: will this household follow custom, or follow God?
Two things happened on the eighth day, and they happened together.
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 wording matters. The neighbours never actually named him. They only set out to.
The word used here is well rendered by Carr as "were for calling." By Jewish custom, naming a child was separate from circumcising him.
Naming a child after a relative was the normal expectation. That expectation is what caused the objection in the next verses.
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.
Both names mean something, and they point in opposite directions.
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.
Zacharias could not speak. He had doubted the angel's promise. So his wife answers for the child, and he confirms it in writing.
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.
One writer weighs what kind of faith this was.
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.
One writer reads Zacharias' silence as a story about a whole nation.
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."
Samuel Ridout brings the same picture down to one person.
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.
- Covenant. The eighth day was circumcision day. It brought the child into covenant place and privilege. The name went with that day, though naming was a separate custom.
- Custom. Naming a boy after an ancestor was normal practice. That is why the neighbours "were for calling" him Zacharias, and why they objected to John.
- Grace. The father's name looked back: "Jehovah has remembered." The child's name looks forward: "Jehovah is gracious." That is Luke's theme in one word.
- Obedience. Elisabeth speaks for the child. Zacharias writes what the angel said. The moment they choose God's word over family tradition, the silence ends and praise begins.
- Israel. The silent priest who finds his voice pictures a whole nation, silent now and praising later. The grace that opens the New Testament answers the curse that closes the Old. Wherever a soul bows to that grace, praise bursts out.