Luke 1:57–80

WHEN IT WAS time for Elizabeth to have her baby, she gave birth to a son. 58Her neighbors and relatives heard that the Lord had shown her great mercy, and they shared her joy.

59On the eighth day they came to circumcise the child, and they were going to name him after his father Zechariah, 60but his mother spoke up and said, “No! He is to be called John.”

61They said to her, “There is no one among your relatives who has that name.”

62Then they made signs to his father, to find out what he would like to name the child. 63He asked for a writing tablet, and to everyone’s astonishment he wrote, “His name is John.” 64Immediately his mouth was opened and his tongue was loosed, and he began to speak, praising God. 65The neighbors were all filled with awe, and throughout the hill country of Judea people were talking about all these things. 66Everyone who heard this wondered about it, asking, “What then is this child going to be?” For the Lord’s hand was with him.

67His father Zechariah was filled with the Holy Spirit and prophesied:

68“Praise be to the Lord, the God of Israel,

because he has come and has redeemed his people.

69He has raised up a horn of salvation for us

in the house of his servant David

70(as he said through his holy prophets of long ago),

71salvation from our enemies

and from the hand of all who hate us—

72to show mercy to our fathers

and to remember his holy covenant,

73the oath he swore to our father Abraham:

74to rescue us from the hand of our enemies,

and to enable us to serve him without fear

75in holiness and righteousness before him all our days.

76And you, my child, will be called a prophet of the Most High;

for you will go on before the Lord to prepare the way for him,

77to give his people the knowledge of salvation

through the forgiveness of their sins,

78because of the tender mercy of our God,

by which the rising sun will come to us from heaven

79to shine on those living in darkness

and in the shadow of death,

to guide our feet into the path of peace.”

80And the child grew and became strong in spirit; and he lived in the desert until he appeared publicly to Israel.

Original Meaning

WHEN GOD ACTS, we should listen. Zechariah has learned this lesson. When the birth of John was announced to him, he could not believe it, so the Lord gave him a sign for reflection: He would be unable to speak until all was fulfilled. Then he would know that God does what he says. The present passage shows the outcome of Zechariah’s reflection. As a righteous man, he has learned from his mistake. Through the pain of the discipline, he emerges a stronger man of God. Those who are arrogant, thinking they know it all, have no need for God or for instruction. Zechariah is not an arrogant man.

In the midst of great joy and the recognition that God has been merciful to this priestly family, the time has come for the circumcision and naming of the child. Events like this are filled with custom. Tradition dictated that the child should receive a family name, honoring a parent, a grandparent, or some other relative ( 1 Macc. 1:1–2; Jub. 11:15; Josephus, Life 15).1 Perhaps given Zechariah’s recent debilitating condition, the crowd expects the child to be named Zechariah Junior.2 But Elizabeth gives her son the name “John,” sending shock waves of surprise through the crowd. The neighbors are so convinced an error had been made, since the name has no family precedent, that they ask the father through sign language (v. 62). Apparently Zechariah can neither hear nor speak. On a wood tablet probably covered with wax, Zechariah writes the name the angel had given him for the child (v. 13).3 Zechariah knows he must follow those instructions, so he announces the child’s name as “John.”

Immediately his tongue is freed, and he speaks in praise to God. The long silence has allowed him to reflect on what God called for him to do, and he is now prepared to do it. Zechariah has learned that even righteous men have something to learn from God.

The event also indicates that the unusual sequence of events surrounding John points to the unusual nature of this child. The question of verse 66, “What then is this child going to be?” is a way of getting Luke’s readers to pause and reflect on this special child. In some ways we lose the sense of drama today, because the story is so well known. To Luke’s readers, the whole sequence would have raised interest, since these events take surprising turns. The sequence involving Zechariah opens up the drama of the Gospel to suggest the story is just getting interesting. Stay tuned, Luke implies, there is more explanation to come of just how special this child and the one to follow him is.

With his lips freed to speak, Zechariah now praises God for what he is doing. This second hymn is known as the Benedictus (again, the opening word of the Latin translation of this passage). Whereas Mary’s hymn spoke in personal and general terms, this hymn of praise anticipates and overviews the careers of the two children whom divine destiny has brought together. Though John is the child born, Zechariah’s hymn focuses on the person to whom John will point—the One promised long ago who would be sent to rescue and bless those who turn to him. Like Mary’s hymn, this thanksgiving psalm is filled with Old Testament imagery and declares how the strong one from the house of David will be a light of rescue and guidance for his people. Luke introduces it as a response to the Spirit’s filling of Zechariah. As is often the case in Luke, the Spirit leads to bold testimony and praise (cf. 1:41).

The psalm’s main theme appears in verses 68–70, while its elaboration is the remainder of the psalm. The Lord God of Israel has once again acted on behalf of his people by visiting them and redeeming them (v. 68). As 2:26–32 makes clear, God’s visitation comes with the Messiah’s visitation.4 God “has raised up a horn” in the house of David (v. 69), through which the visit comes. Zechariah’s remarks here serve as a literary elaboration of 1:31–35. The image of the horn points to the strength of the one to come, since the metaphor looks back to the strong horns of an ox that can defeat opponents (Deut. 33:17). It represents an image of war (1 Sam. 2:10; 2 Sam. 22:3). An image of battle is invoked, and the Son of David is the powerful one in the midst of the conflict. The appeal to David’s house makes it clear that God is doing what the prophets promised long ago.5 Zechariah anticipates messianic redemption and thanks God for it.

So what does Zechariah look forward to? He anticipates rescue from Israel’s enemies and from the hands of all who hate God’s people (v. 71). He foresees God showing mercy—that loyal love (hesed) that Mary spoke of—to the fathers, as God remembers his covenant promises and performs them through the one he sends (v. 72). Connecting “mercy” and “covenant” is not unusual, given Old Testament precedent (Deut. 7:9; 1 Kings 8:23). God’s mercy is not a matter of mere words; it expresses itself in concrete action. So Zechariah describes what God will do in line with his promises. These oaths reach back to the early days of the nation and to Abraham (v. 73). The mention of Abraham looks back to God’s first promise to Israel (Gen. 12:1–3).

What Zechariah desires most is to be rescued from his enemies so that he can serve God his whole life without fear and in righteousness and holiness (vv. 74–75). Here is the pious person’s creed: “I want to serve you with my whole life, O Lord; enable me to do so and vindicate me in my pursuit.” Zechariah is thrilled that the powerful Promised One has the authority to overcome such opposition and to provide the opportunity for such undistracted service. The term for service, latreuo, is used exclusively in the New Testament of service given to God or the gods (Luke 2:37; 4:8; Rom. 1:25).6

A national focus on concerns for Israel is clear in the hymn’s introduction, where the God of Israel receives praise (Gen. 9:26; 1 Sam. 25:32; 1 Kings 1:48; Pss. 41:13; 89:52). The text from 1 Kings is significant, since there Solomon, another Son of David, is in view. The hymn’s verbs contain more prophetic aorists,7 since it is clear that Zechariah’s remarks anticipate what Jesus and John will do.

Zechariah speaks as a righteous Jew here. He longs for the nation’s vindication, possibly from Rome and the forces that direct her. In Luke’s story, however, the scope of the hymn’s hope may even be broader. He will show how the Promised One from David’s house has power that extends beyond the political forces that sit over Israel (8:22–56). God has “raised up” (cf. Deut. 18:15, 18; Judg. 3:9, 15; 1 Sam. 2:35; 2 Sam. 23:1) this significant figure onto the world’s stage. The Son of David (God’s “servant”; v. 69) will become a servant himself (cf. Phil. 2:7). He will take on the cosmic forces that oppress humanity and bring pain and suffering into the world. When liberation comes through his ministry, sin and Satan will lead the enemy lines (Luke 4:16–30; 11:14–23). That is why when Zechariah turns to compare the career of his son John with the child to come, it is the spiritual issues of their ministry that dominate.

Zechariah indicates that his own son will be a prophet for the Most High God, preparing a people for this coming visit of the Lord by telling them about “salvation through the forgiveness of sins” (vv. 76–77). He will go “before the Lord,”8 preparing the way (cf. 1:17). Of course, the way of God is inseparably linked to what he will do through his Messiah. The message about salvation and the forgiveness of sins, which John preaches, will be like the commission Jesus gives to the church in 24:43–47, except that at that later commission, events will have filled in details that are only vague here.9 God’s tender mercy is at work in this plan. This portrait of John as forerunner and prophet, a bridge between the old era and the new, is reinforced in 7:26–35.

God will not only work through John. He will send “the rising sun” (v. 79; lit., “the morning star”), a likely allusion to Numbers 24:17 and Isaiah 11:1–10.10 The king, seen as light, shows the spiritual dimension of his rule and indicates that he not only comes as a political figure, but also as a spiritual one. The image of light is important to Luke (Luke 2:32; Acts 13:49; 26:17–20). Once it is introduced in the Messiah, it is not withdrawn. So the Son, who serves as a bright morning light, comes from heaven and shines on those in darkness and death, guiding them into the path of peace. Significantly Zechariah puts himself among those in darkness. As a spiritual man, he knows that the only way to walk righteously is to follow the path God sets. Zechariah knows that the Messiah is coming. He will be powerful; but more than that, he will be light.

Bridging Contexts

APPLYING THE MESSAGE of hymns or psalms can be tricky. We all sense as we read a text like this one that our experience is not quite that of the psalmist and that his concerns are not quite ours. Zechariah, for example, has worries about Rome, which we no longer have! The lesson from such a passage is not grounded in the fact that we replicate the psalmist’s experience in terms of its details, but that we share in the spiritual tension or hope of faith into which experience has placed him. The hymn asks us to enter in by identifying with the psalmist’s attempt to come to grips with his circumstances, much like we have to come to grips with the circumstances God puts into our lives. Thus the attitudes of faith, trust, hope, joy, sorrow, and sometimes the honesty with which a problem is faced often instruct us.

As with the previous portions of this introductory section of Luke, the interpretive bridge comes through the character representation of Zechariah and the teaching of his hymn. Zechariah portrays the reflections of a mature and pious man who still has much to learn about trusting God. Here is a spiritual man who knows that one never coasts on the basis of past spirituality. God revealed to him through the sign of silence that the time to talk had passed. It was time to listen silently to God. During the months of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, while God’s promise was slowly coming to pass, Zechariah was learning that God brings his promise to fruition in his own timing and in his own way. He has learned his lesson, and his obedience becomes public, resulting in praise to God.

Thus, in terms of the narrative, Zechariah speaks as a more mature man now, one who has just been taught much by God during the silent reflection God gave him. He speaks from his experience now with a credibility that asks for our reflection. One of the major lessons is that even if all his neighbors do not understand why Zechariah does not do things the way they have been done, he will walk where God tells him to walk. The pressure of custom will not become a reason to disobey God.

This lesson is an important one. Peer pressure and the attitudes of the world can often make us act in ways that differ from where God would take us. Whether in values, entertainment, or the way we do business, the world’s ways are not God’s ways. To hear God and not the customs of the world is important. But there is a more subtle form of following peer pressure, when custom becomes confused with commandment in the church. I have heard about churches fighting over the color of the new carpet, the nature of the music in the praise service, the age of hymns, the use of drama, and other things that can only be classified as neutral in themselves. Yet sometimes we exalt taste and custom to the level of a revelation from Mount Sinai. Zechariah’s moment of reflection and resistance to the path of popular custom show that he will follow God’s direct leading over “the way this is normally done.”

The hymn is a grand overview of God’s bringing his larger promise of salvation and deliverance to pass. Bridging it into the present involves restating how timeless the events tied to Jesus are and highlighting the manifestation of God’s attributes that are evident in these events. Here two great promises of God—one to Abraham (v. 73) and one to David (vv. 69–70)—are alluded to as being realized in the events surrounding these two newborns. The hope for the saints is rescue and redemption, which enable them to serve God without distraction, for their enemies stand vanquished in the power of the promised king. But the Messiah of power is also the king of spiritual light. He now guides the path of those who follow him. The superhighway he has built is named peace. That is the path he pursues as he takes others who follow him out of the shadow of death.

Contemporary Significance

BESIDES THE OVERVIEW and description of the careers of John and Jesus that serve as the content base for this text’s teaching, several key attitudes are central to the application of this text. The lesson that pious Zechariah learns is important, especially to those who have a rich spiritual heritage. He is a man of lifelong faith who still needed to grow. It is all too easy to view one’s spiritual life as something that can be mastered rather than something to be maintained.

Often we are tempted, on the basis of past experience, to put our spiritual well-being on cruise control and rest on the laurels of a tradition of activity. I love seeing a saint in his seventies who has known the Lord for decades but who still wants to know him better and more deeply. What an encouragement such a person is to me as a younger saint, for I know that, Lord willing, there are many years of the walk still ahead. How thrilling it is to know that some see their walk with God as a challenge and that the thrill of divine involvement in life has not waned, even though the years have moved on. It causes one to desire to keep on keeping on. Zechariah reveals that even good men can get better and learn to walk in deeper trust with God. That simple lesson comes to the fore in his naming his child John even though others want to name him something else. God has taught him in the quiet moments of the time between the announcement of the birth and the child’s arrival that his sovereign will must be done and his mercy, though sometimes working in surprising ways, must be followed.

We have our Zechariahs today—those who seek to serve God with fullness of heart as they realize that one has much yet to learn from God, even after years of walking with him. An interesting work to ponder comes from the pen of Henri Nouwen.11 His autobiography relates a fascinating journey from teaching pastoral psychology and theology at Notre Dame, Yale, and Harvard for twenty years to burnout. From there he undertook a ministry in the home of the mentally challenged. There he learned that “service” given even to those whom the world does not see taught him as much as or more than his learning in seminary. Sometimes God is able to teach us in the midst of surprising circumstances. Ministry is not power and prestige, but humble service and trust. Those who seek God’s deliverance and pursue it in holiness and service sometimes find themselves in places they never imagined ministering and in ways they never contemplated. Here is his own testimony:

Let me summarize. My movement from Harvard to L’Arche made me aware in a new way how much my own thinking about Christian leadership had been affected by the desire to be relevant, the desire for popularity, and the desire for power. Too often I looked at being relevant, popular, and powerful as ingredients of an effective ministry. The truth, however, is that these are not vocations but temptations. Jesus asks, “Do you love me?” Jesus sends us out to be shepherds, and Jesus promises a life in which we increasingly have to stretch out our hands and be led to places where we would rather not go. He asks us to move from a concern for relevance to a life of prayer, from worries about popularity to communal and mutual ministry, and from a leadership built on power to a leadership in which we critically discern where God is leading us and our people.

The people of L’Arche are showing me new ways. I am a slow learner. Old patterns that have proved quite effective are not easy to give up. But as I think about the Christian leader of the next century, I do believe that those from whom I least expected to learn are showing me the way. I hope and pray that what I am learning in my new life is something that is not just good for me to learn, but something that helps you, as well, to catch a glimpse of the Christian leader of the future.

Though our God is awesome and powerful, he uses that power in surprising ways. He sends a king who leads initially not with a sword, but with his word. He rescues not through a bloody war, but with a new way. He leads not just with might, but with light—his teaching and life. When we think of a promised king, we think of a palace and knights, the king’s army arrayed to defend his people. Jesus’ kingship does not seclude itself in a palace, nor does he have a round table. This king walked among his people and lived as they did. He was baptized by the one pointing the way to him, because life is not a function of power as the world tends to think, but is a reflection of character and light.

If one asks why this king, sent by God, rules by being like the morning sun, it is because the way of life and the path to peace is not a matter of coercion or the controlling use of power. It is a matter of character. Why else would the forerunner, preparing the way for God, address forgiveness of sin? Why else would the king who leads people out of darkness and death’s shadow be compared to a light? Why else would a journey metaphor, the path of peace, be the picture of what it means to be redeemed? Though entry into it takes but a moment, salvation is not a momentary affair. It is a lifelong journey of the heart, a journey guided by one’s allegiance to the Morning Star, who not only goes before us but shows us that the way to reflect God is to refract his character in ever-growing ways.

In other words, the question remains before us: How do we define life? Is it in power and in the ability to “take control,” or is it in following the one who is in control? The text leaves no doubt that we should follow the one who is the source of light. The only road to righteousness and peace, even for a righteous man like Zechariah, is to be prepared to see the light and follow it. The text raises the question and answers it with notes of praise. See the morning star, Jesus, and follow the light in the way of peace. What precisely that pathway involves is the rest of this Gospel’s story, for which this hymn serves as a guiding introduction. In a real sense, the application of this text is found in the entirety of this Gospel’s message.