“Inasmuch as many have undertaken to compile a narrative of the things that have been accomplished among us, just as those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and ministers of the word have delivered them to us, it seemed good to me also, having followed all things closely for some time past, to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus, that you may have certainty concerning the things you have been taught. In the days of Herod, king of Judea, there was a priest named Zechariah, of the division of Abijah. And he had a wife from the daughters of Aaron, and her name was Elizabeth. And they were both righteous before God, walking blamelessly in all the commandments and statutes of the Lord. But they had no child, because Elizabeth was barren, and both were advanced in years. Now while he was serving as priest before God when his division was on duty, according to the custom of the priesthood, he was chosen by lot to enter the temple of the Lord and burn incense. And the whole multitude of the people were praying outside at the hour of incense. And there appeared to him an angel of the Lord standing on the right side of the altar of incense. And Zechariah was troubled when he saw him, and fear fell upon him. But the angel said to him, ‘Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard, and your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you shall call his name John. And you will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth, for 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. And he will turn many of the children of Israel to the Lord their God, and he will go before him in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the just, to make ready for the Lord a people prepared.’ And Zechariah said to the angel, ‘How shall I know this? For I am an old man, and my wife is advanced in years.’ And the angel answered him, ‘I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I was sent to speak to you and to bring you this good news. And behold, you will be silent and unable to speak until the day that these things take place, because you did not believe my words, which will be fulfilled in their time.’ And the people were waiting for Zechariah, and they were wondering at his delay in the temple. And when he came out, he was unable to speak to them, and they realized that he had seen a vision in the temple. And he kept making signs to them and remained mute. And when his time of service was ended, he went to his home. After these days his wife Elizabeth conceived, and for five months she kept herself hidden, saying, ‘Thus the Lord has done for me in the days when he looked on me, to take away my reproach among people.’”

The New Testament begins with the books Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, four gospel accounts, each named for their author. There are four accounts, but there’s only one gospel, only one good news – that Jesus Christ, God made flesh, came into this world, lived a perfect life, was crucified, atoning for the sins of man through His death, and was raised on the third day. The singular focus of the gospel is why John 3:16,

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.”

Is commonly called “the gospel in miniature,” a quote attributed to Martin Luther, because its entirety is summed up in this one verse. There is but one good news, that you, a sinner, could by accepting the truth of the Lordship of Christ, be forgiven, made righteous, and ultimately delivered into eternity with God, rather than an eternity cast from His presence. Bearing in mind that there is mercifully one simple, yet extraordinarily vast gospel, why does the New Testament begin with four accounts of the same good news? Now, we could take that question to the Biblical commentaries, we could plumb the depths of the internet and scour up a host of answers, but before diving too deep, this is a question that can be answered fairly easily just by observation. While the four accounts were written around the same time, they weren’t penned simultaneously. Four authors, at four periods of time, wrote four accounts for the same reason – that the reader understand the Truth presented to them. Each account takes on different flavors, different angles and inflections based on who God was using at the time to address matters facing the church, and ultimately provide clarity that the Holy Spirit might cry out with one voice that reaches many ears. Historical evidence points to Mark as the first of the four accounts written (there’s a minority that holds to Matthew being written first, but the general consensus is that Mark was the first of the four to be written down). It being first fits with the pacing and tone of the book – it’s the shortest of the four, and while in no way lacking or shallow, it is certainly the punchiest of the accounts. Mark is not long-winded, or overly descriptive, however, it’s a grave mistake to think that the book somehow contains a lowered opinion of Jesus, as I’ve heard some atheist debaters claim. Mark 1:1 opens by saying,

“The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”

It’s hard to say that with this as its beginning the book is somehow guilty of “low Christology.” Mark tells many of the same events and teachings throughout Jesus’ ministry as Matthew and Luke (especially Matthew), but with less dialog and description around them. It is a book that is dedicated to getting a message out, and while none of the gospels are apologetic for the message they bring, Mark has a beautiful rawness to it in its delivery that stands out from the other three.  Matthew addresses many of the same things as Mark, but begins with a seemingly very different message, Matthew 1:1 saying,

“The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham.”

Let’s be honest – most people have opened up the New Testament, they’ve looked at the first page of Matthew, they’ve said to themselves,

“Wow, that’s a lot of names…”

And they skip right over the genealogy to the birth of Jesus in verse 18. Now, please pardon me while I quite possibly bruise a few feelings – if the genealogy at the beginning of Matthew bores you (as I confess, it once did me), it’s probably because you’ve largely neglected the Old Testament. If you scan through the names and you can’t find any you recognize it’s not Matthew’s fault for starting his account by listing off a family tree, it’s yours. Anything complicated is boring if you have no comprehension for what’s going on, there’s not much that can’t be reduced to a meaningless jumble if you have zero context. And I’m not saying that you have to know the identity and backstory of every name listed in the genealogy, but you should certainly know some, and there should be others that at least sound familiar. Neglecting the Old Testament is so detrimental to understanding the full weight and scope of the New Testament, because it robs you of seeing the complete picture of everything that God has fulfilled. Incidentally, do you know who was really, really into the Old Testament? First century Jews. Paul writes in Romans 1:16,

“For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek.”

Jesus came to offer salvation to the world, but He came for the Jews first – He came to them, the Messiah fulfilling prophecies that they specifically were given, and through what they were first given, we all were made part of the flock of Christ. Matthew is a gospel account that is written for everyone, but it is written for the Jew first, which we can tell quite plainly from the genealogy. This is an invitation to look and see for any who might have missed from Mark’s account that Jesus is the legal fulfillment of the Messiah. We also see through passages like the Sermon on the Mount, how many of Jesus’ teachings (once again, applicable to all), were direct corrections of broken and corrupt interpretations of the Law that were pushed by the Jewish religious leaders of the day. This makes a tremendous amount of sense, especially when we consider how some early Jewish converts (those commonly called the circumcision party), attempted to force Jewish legalism on gentile converts, or else treated them as lesser – a matter that caused Paul to rebuke Peter, recorded in Galatians 2:11-14.  And so Matthew, while professing the same gospel as Mark, and conveying the Truth that is relevant and applicable to all, does so in a way that targets and appeals to the Jews in a particular way – the genealogy at the beginning being the first, massive indicator. John was the last of the four to be written (we’ll circle back to Luke for what I hope are obvious reasons), and his account, along with his three letters and the book of Revelation come at a different time period from the three synoptic gospels. Almost certainly written after the fall of Jerusalem in 70 AD, John’s account speaks to a still very young, but fully established church. He, as elder and last of the Apostles, writes to convey the same good news as the other three, but strives toward even greater clarity around an issue that has caused many heresies to rise up around the church – the deity of Christ. It’s not as though the other gospels did a poor job of this – we already looked at the first words of Mark, the gospel that naysayers so wrongly claim offers the least support of Jesus and God being One, and it starts out pretty strong and clear from the beginning. But what the other gospels have already said, John says louder, that no one should doubt or have any misgivings about the Oneness of Father and Son. And so we can see the straightforward delivery, the legal appeal delivery, and the spiritual appeal delivery, all overlapping with one another, as well as standing in their own unique ways – where then does Luke’s gospel account, the third written of the four, fall in place? Where can we see its unique purpose as it harmonizes with the other three? Matthew starts with a genealogy, Mark starts with the declaration of who Christ is, and John starts by drawing a clear connection between God the Father and Christ the Son from the beginning. Luke too has a concise and notably orderly beginning, though one that looks vastly different from the others, Luke 1:1-4 stating,

“Inasmuch as many have undertaken to compile a narrative of the things that have been accomplished among us, just as those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and ministers of the word have delivered them to us, it seemed good to me also, having followed all things closely for some time past, to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus, that you may have certainty concerning the things you have been taught.”

Now, it doesn’t read like a Jewish phonebook, it’s not the most direct and punchy of openings, and it lacks the poetic grandeur of, “In the beginning was the Word,” but Luke’s introduction tells us exactly why he’s here – to give an orderly account that Theophilus (who we’ll get to in a moment), may have certainty concerning what he’s been taught. Out of context this would make absolutely no sense – the first words don’t directly mention Jesus, and they don’t give any specificity to what “the things you have been taught” are. But this isn’t out of context, it’s the opening of a gospel account, and Luke is quite clearly not speaking to someone who’s entirely unfamiliar with the message of the good news. There is assumed knowledge on the part of the reader, even if just a small amount. This isn’t necessarily written to inform from the ground up (though reading Luke all the way through would certainly give you a ground up basis for the gospel), but rather to clarify in wonderful detail, many particulars in the life and ministry of Jesus, the Christ, the Son of the Living God. The specific identity of Theophilus is never revealed, either in Scripture or through historical record beyond what we see at the beginnings of Luke and Acts, Acts 1:1 saying,

“In the first book, O Theophilus, I have dealt with all that Jesus began to do and teach…”

However, despite this overall lack of information, what Luke says to Theophilus actually tells us quite a lot. He is referred to as “most excellent,” which while on the surface may look to us like nothing more than a term of endearment or respect, actually signifies his position. We see this same honorific used in Acts 24:2 and Acts 26:25 in reference to the Roman governors Felix and Festus respectively. There are those who theorize that Theophilus was not a real person, but is simply a representation for all new Christians – part of this stemming from the fact that his name translates as “friend of God.” But treating him as purely symbolic is wholly unnecessary and overlooks a few key points – one of them being this address of “most excellent.” What Luke addressing Theophilus in this way points to is that the man was most likely a Roman convert of prominent standing in the Hellenist society. If this sounds like too much of a jump, consider that he’s being addressed in a manner of equal standing as two men who were governors over an entire province – that’s not a small thing. We also see no precedent anywhere else in the New Testament for a book or letter being written to an individual – like Timothy, Titus, Philemon, or Gaius in 3 John – where the person the letter is to is taken to be a metaphorical representation of a group, nor is there a book or letter addressed to a group – like Paul’s many letters to the churches – where the many is somehow representative of an individual. You could make some debate around the “elect lady and her children” as to whether that’s a specific person or the church as a whole, but even there, no name is given and it’s a completely different address than the specific name we’re given in Theophilus. This doesn’t mean that Luke’s gospel account is only meant for one person – the Truth therein is applicable and valid for any and all. But it does mean that it was written to provide a concise and ordered understanding to an individual – almost certainly a Roman gentile. Much as Matthew was originally a gospel applicable to all, but tailored to the Jews, Luke is the reverse, a gospel tailored to the gentiles – a systematic historical affirmation through accounts and evidence to the gospel they’d been told. Theophilus as an individual not only helps us see part of why Luke wrote his account, but also how he wrote it. Matthew and John were both Apostles, and their writings came from what they had seen firsthand. Peter refers to Mark as “my son” in his closing of 1 Peter, establishing a relationship between himself and the younger man similar to the one between Paul and Timothy. Bearing this in mind, it’s believed (and perfectly logical) that Mark’s gospel was written through information provided by Peter. Luke’s gospel, given that he was a consistent companion of Paul, is given Apostolic credence through this relationship (as well as its complete harmony with the rest of Scripture), but it begs the question as to how Luke obtained all the information he wrote of. Theophilus – high ranking Roman convert, gives us an answer to that question. Bear in mind, we’re talking about the first century – there was no internet, no telephone, no public library with countless encyclopedias. But it’s not as though there was no record of historical events – society in antiquity didn’t function as we so often pretend it did, a bunch of illiterate idiots, living in caves and speaking in grunts. People forget that despite its many flaws, the Roman empire boasted innumerable advancements, and influences ways in which the world is governed and operates to this day. So despite their lack of modern technology, they were highly capable of critical thinking and documentation. What was required of a historian was a great deal of investigative work, and given that Luke wasn’t writing his gospel account hundreds of years later, but within the Apostolic era and rise of the early church, this would have meant traveling and speaking with eyewitnesses to the life, ministry, death, and resurrection of Jesus, of which there still would have been many. A commonly held theory (and again, one that makes a good deal of logical sense), is that Theophilus acted as Luke’s patron, assisting in financially supporting Luke through the process of compiling, writing, and copying his gospel account.  Luke himself was not an eyewitness, as he says from the very beginning, but has done the work under the guidance of the Spirit to interview and receive word from the eyewitnesses, the original distributors of the gospel, and to compile a complete account, that those who have come to believe in the Truth of Christ, those gentiles who now hold the foundation of Jesus, but may lack the structure of the details and the history, may know, believe, and have certainty in what they have been given. Luke’s account, third to be written and third to be listed in the canon of the New Testament tells the same story as the other three gospels, but it stands uniquely in its rich historical detail, and the nature of its appeal to gentile believers, that their faith may be assured, and their certainty fixed upon the Rock of Christ alone.

The Coming Voice Promised

1. Faithfulness in a Time of Silence

“In the days of Herod, king of Judea, there was a priest named Zechariah, of the division of Abijah. And he had a wife from the daughters of Aaron, and her name was Elizabeth. And they were both righteous before God, walking blamelessly in all the commandments and statutes of the Lord. But they had no child, because Elizabeth was barren, and both were advanced in years.”

Every other gospel begins by clearly addressing Jesus – “The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham.” “The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” It’s not that Luke isn’t beginning by addressing Jesus, but again, writing with a degree of assumed knowledge on the part of the reader, he doesn’t state it as explicitly as the other gospel writers. The final words of the Old Testament in Malachi 4:5–6 say,

“Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the great and awesome day of the LORD comes. And he will turn the hearts of fathers to their children and the hearts of children to their fathers, lest I come and strike the land with a decree of utter destruction.”

And then, the 400 years of silence that make up the intertestamental period follows – no prophecy, no divine revelation, no works of Scripture written. God’s people are left with this cliff hanger for roughly four centuries, waiting for the Messiah to come. It would be a mistake to think that they’ve been left with nothing – they have the Law, they have the promise that ends the Old Testament, God has reestablished them as a nation, they have everything they need in Him, and it’s not as though just because God stopped speaking directly He ceased to speak through His Word, or to provide for His people. But even so, it’s perfectly understandable to see that there would have been anticipation among the people to see God’s promises fulfilled, and imagine that as time dragged on, disappointment might have developed. Where Luke picks up, rather than immediately declaring that the Messiah has come, starts off with the prophetic fulfillment of where Malachi ended. Now, to be fair, each gospel absolutely addresses John the Baptist, no one skips over the one who Jesus affirms came in the spirit and power of Elijah – the second verse of Mark is literally introducing him. But Luke doesn’t just address the ministry of the Baptizer, he begins with his origins – Luke is taking us back far enough to show the preparation for the preparation for the foundation that is to come. This affords us a unique historical insight, but it also shows us that the condition of the people – in particular the two individuals of Zechariah and Elizabeth – was one of continued obedience and devotion. Despite their age and the clearly implied disappointment and heartbreak of childlessness, neither are just going through the cultural motions of ritualistically honoring God. They are sincere in their devotion, and blameless in obeying His statutes and commandments. By their example, we can see the hope that the people clung to during the time of silence, the continued obedience they displayed before the Lord. Again, I don’t want to seem like I’m giving the population as a whole too much credit for doing what they were supposed to do, but when we consider how much rebellion plagued Israel throughout the Old Testament, how many times they openly forsook God, despite His active work among them, this sign of obedience in the midst of generational silence is impressive. It’s impressive on the part of the people for their faithfulness, and it’s awe inspiring when we realize how steadfast the Lord is in His care for His people, even during a time when He had paused broad communication.

“Now while he was serving as priest before God when his division was on duty, according to the custom of the priesthood, he was chosen by lot to enter the temple of the Lord and burn incense. And the whole multitude of the people were praying outside at the hour of incense.”

We’re not just shown the spiritual condition of Zechariah and Elizabeth, but for the people as a whole. Does the fact that they took part in this ceremony automatically mean that their hearts were right before God? Of course not – not more than going to church today means that you’re automatically a faithful Christian. However it does show us that, regardless of their stumblings and the corrupt teaching that Jesus would oppose so forcefully during His ministry, the general pattern of the people was still one of faithful obedience. Despite the years of silence the people have not abandoned following God, and we see a collective offering of their worship, their prayers surrendered before the One in whom they trust. Even if we acknowledge the heart issues of the crowd, which are so clearly revealed later at the time of the crucifixion, we know from examples like Simeon and Anna, seen later in Luke 2, that there were among the people those whose hearts were genuine in seeking and rejoicing in the Lord. Despite their faults and despite the silence, the people have remained faithful to the Lord, and more importantly, we see that the Lord has remained faithful to His people.

2. Doubt in a Time of Silence

“And there appeared to him an angel of the Lord standing on the right side of the altar of incense. And Zechariah was troubled when he saw him, and fear fell upon him. But the angel said to him, ‘Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard, and your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you shall call his name John. And you will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth, for 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. And he will turn many of the children of Israel to the Lord their God, and he will go before him in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the just, to make ready for the Lord a people prepared.’ And Zechariah said to the angel, ‘How shall I know this? For I am an old man, and my wife is advanced in years.’”

All at once, the divine silence that has persisted for Zechariah’s entire life ends for him – an angel sent from the Lord appears, standing beside the altar in the temple. Not only is the silence broken, but the message of the angel isn’t just for the people as a whole, it’s for Zechariah himself, the prayer that he and his wife have offered up to God countless times is being answered. On top of this, and adding all the more to the blessing, through Zechariah and Elizabeth’s answered prayers the prayers of many will be answered, for his son will be the forerunner, the one who makes way and heralds the coming Christ. And for all this glorious news, Zechariah doubts, questioning the angel who has been sent to him by God. Now, to have some grace for Zechariah, we should note that Scripture is full of many good and admirable people – but of them all there is only One who is perfect, and that is Christ, God made flesh. This doesn’t mean that Zechariah gets a pass here – his response is still very much the wrong one, but it at the very least should afford us some understanding and compassion for the man as he stumbles. Proverbs 18:13 tells us,

“If one gives an answer before he hears, it is his folly and shame.”

Zechariah, despite his righteous following of the Lord has spoken foolishly here – failing to actually hear what is truly being said and latching on to the part that challenges his faith most, he doubts and questions the messenger of the Lord as to how this thing can be possible. The problem with this is far greater than Zechariah simply questioning an angel (though that would be bad enough) – because Zechariah isn’t just a random Jewish guy that an angel has appeared before, he’s a priest. He’s a priest, on duty, in the temple, before the altar, witnessing a messenger of God come to him. And the message of the angel isn’t some vague, “Hey, you know that thing you’ve asked for? Well congratulations, you’re gonna get it!” kind of message, but is loaded with references and implications that tie back to the Old Testament. First, there’s the simple matter that the first words the angel speaks are “Do not be afraid.” Far from just a practical message, this calls back to the words of the angel of the Lord, repeated in the Old Testament – this isn’t just some casual thing (as though there could be a casual angelic message), Zechariah is immediately offered words that should draw him back to the messages that God has offered His people in centuries and millennia past. Next on the list of things that Zechariah should have picked up on but didn’t, the angel tells him of the son that is to be born to him,

“And he must not drink wine or strong drink, and he will be filled with the Holy Spirit, even from his mother’s womb.”

Why is this significant? Because John the Baptist is the third and final baby recorded in Scripture who is a Nazarite from birth. A Nazarite (not to be confused with a Nazarene), is someone who is separated or consecrated for God. This is usually for a set time under the Nazarite vow, as outlined in Numbers 6, but in the case of three individuals, all born to seemingly barren parents, it was a lifelong calling. The first of these was the judge Samson – Judges 13:2–5 saying,

“There was a certain man of Zorah, of the tribe of the Danites, whose name was Manoah. And his wife was barren and had no children. And the angel of the LORD appeared to the woman and said to her, ‘Behold, you are barren and have not borne children, but you shall conceive and bear a son. Therefore be careful and drink no wine or strong drink, and eat nothing unclean, for behold, you shall conceive and bear a son. No razor shall come upon his head, for the child shall be a Nazirite to God from the womb, and he shall begin to save Israel from the hand of the Philistines.’”

The second that we see is the prophet and last judge of Israel, Samuel. In 1 Samuel 1:9–11 we see the vow given by his mother as she prays to the Lord,

“After they had eaten and drunk in Shiloh, Hannah rose. Now Eli the priest was sitting on the seat beside the doorpost of the temple of the LORD. She was deeply distressed and prayed to the LORD and wept bitterly. And she vowed a vow and said, ‘O LORD of hosts, if you will indeed look on the affliction of your servant and remember me and not forget your servant, but will give to your servant a son, then I will give him to the LORD all the days of his life, and no razor shall touch his head.’”

While the matter of the razor is more than enough to clue us in here, there’s also further allusion to the Nazarite vow, when the priest Eli, seeing Hannah praying silently, takes her to be drunk. 1 Samuel 1:14–16 says,

“And Eli said to her, ‘How long will you go on being drunk? Put your wine away from you.’ But Hannah answered, ‘No, my lord, I am a woman troubled in spirit. I have drunk neither wine nor strong drink, but I have been pouring out my soul before the LORD. Do not regard your servant as a worthless woman, for all along I have been speaking out of my great anxiety and vexation.’”

While not as direct a prohibition as Samson’s mother was given, the language in Hannah’s admission that she has had no wine or strong drink continues to support Samuel as a Nazarite from birth. These would have been popular and prominent stories among virtually any Jew, but again, we have to remember that Zechariah was a priest, there is a 0% chance that he wasn’t deeply familiar with these accounts, and so when the angel that has appeared before him essentially says, “You and your wife are going to have a miracle baby, who’s going to be great before the Lord, and also, he must not have wine or strong drink, and he will be filled with the Holy Spirit before he’s even born,” it’s entirely expected that Zechariah should make the connection, remember what God has done with Samson and Samuel, and understand that God is blessing and using his family in a similarly great way. The third and final thing that Zechariah has against him here is that the angel then goes on to make direct quotes from the end of Malachi, which we’ve already read. So aside from having an angel appear before him in the temple, aside from being told that he and his wife will be blessed with a Nazarite child as only two other couples ever recorded have been, Zechariah is fed the pieces of Scripture that have been the cliffhanger his people have been left with for the last four centuries – a promise that this time of silence is coming to an end – and he misses it all. Here in this moment where God has offered him so much, prayers, upon prayers, upon prayers answered, he leans on his own understanding, he stumbles over the logistics, the practicality of he and his wife, both advanced in years and having no children, being given a son, and he misses the reality of the miracle that’s unfolding before him. But again, to have some grace for Zechariah, we all stumble when we shouldn’t, we all show poor faith at times when we have no right to, and God is more steadfast in His mercy than we have any right to hope for. While there are repercussions for Zechariah’s questioning doubt, God does not withdraw the blessing He had offered – for He is faithful, even in the face of our doubt.   

3. The Coming End to the Time of Silence

 “And the angel answered him, ‘I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I was sent to speak to you and to bring you this good news. And behold, you will be silent and unable to speak until the day that these things take place, because you did not believe my words, which will be fulfilled in their time.’”

And so we see as Zechariah’s repercussions for his doubts are delivered – he will not be allowed to testify to what he has seen, he will not be allowed to give a prophetic voice to what he’s been told until after it has come to pass. It’s interesting to note that the angel is not simply identified as we often see in the Old Testament, “the angel of the Lord,” but is named. And the angel is none other than Gabriel, the same who came to Daniel, and the same who we will later see come to tell Mary that she will give birth to the Christ. “Gabriel” translates as “man of God,” or alternatively, “warrior of God,” and while we don’t have an exact record of the identities of each angelic messenger throughout Scripture, the fact that we see this angel named multiple times in both Testaments is significant. Returning to Zechariah, we see that his condemnation is not a permanent thing, his silence is temporary – just as the silence that Israel has experienced was not meant to be permanent. What’s interesting is that the break in Zechariah’s imposed silence will coincide with the birth of his son, John the Baptist, the voice that will cry out in the wilderness, the break in the silence that will herald the coming Christ. God has not necessarily taken from Zechariah, but postponed, but the time of the silence ending, the time of Hope coming to His people is fast approaching.

“And the people were waiting for Zechariah, and they were wondering at his delay in the temple. And when he came out, he was unable to speak to them, and they realized that he had seen a vision in the temple. And he kept making signs to them and remained mute. And when his time of service was ended, he went to his home.”

This isn’t particularly relevant to the rest of what we’re discussing in this passage, but it occurred to me here that there’s another illustration of the seriousness of Zechariah’s role as a priest, and also, I find this hilarious. During his time as king, David organized the priests into twenty-four divisions, the eighth being the division of Abijah to which Zechariah belonged, each division serving one week, twice a year in tending to the needs and functions of the temple. As we’ve read, while his division was fulfilling one of their weeks of service, Zechariah was chosen by lot to burn incense in the temple, he sees Gabriel, and we’ve gone over what happened from there. He exits the temple, the large crowd of people, including his fellow priests know that he was in there longer than he should have been, they’re wondering what’s up, and when he reappears, he can’t talk. The crowd, putting the pieces together, comes to the realization that he must have seen a vision of some kind, so we have confirmation that there wasn’t some misgiving or confusion about why he couldn’t speak. And the next thing we read is,

“And when his time of service was ended, he went to his home.”

So, he’s received an angelic vision, he’s been struck dumb, and he still doesn’t get to go home from work early. This gives us another angle on just how sacred and important the duties of the priests were before God, but I’ve also seen too many people bail out of work for too many weak reasons to not find Zechariah finishing out his week of service funny.

“After these days his wife Elizabeth conceived, and for five months she kept herself hidden, saying, ‘Thus the Lord has done for me in the days when he looked on me, to take away my reproach among people.’”

Both Zechariah and Elizabeth were good and righteous people before the Lord – but where Zechariah stumbled when his faith was tested (in a way that we can all hopefully empathize with to some degree), what we see from Elizabeth is a beautiful steadfastness in her faith. The fact that women can have babies is a beautiful and wonderful thing. Despite what our society has done in trying to devalue and diminish the significance of a woman’s role as a mother, it is a core part of a woman’s design. It’s not that this should be amplified to where the ability to reproduce is the only thing seen as good or worthwhile in a woman – that’s steering way too hard in the other direction. But to treat the fact that God has blessed and designed women to bring forth life through their bodies as something unimportant or trivial is a grave mistake. Despite the rise of feminism and all manner of wicked ideologies that seek to strip women of the beauty of their unique design, there still remains a general societal expectation that women have children. People can look strangely at older couples who were unable to have kids – even more so at couples who consciously decided to avoid it. This isn’t to say that if you can’t have kids then there’s something that’s somehow wrong with you, only that there’s a reasonable societal expectation that married couples have (or at least try to have) kids – in keeping with the original command to be fruitful and multiply. But if this idea and expectation is present today, when women (at least in many parts of the world), are treated as equal image bearers and not pieces of property, it was greatly amplified in antiquity, when, apart from biological design, personal desire, and societal expectation, there were many who would have looked at a woman as only good for bearing children. John 9:1–3 tells us,

“As he passed by, he saw a man blind from birth. And his disciples asked him, ‘Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?’ Jesus answered, ‘It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him.’”

This example helps us to see the common practice that physical conditions like blindness, or to expand things a bit, something like infertility, would be assumed by some to be the result of a spiritual issue. This isn’t actually gone today – a friend told me that while they were going through the process of adoption a man from within their church told them that if their prayer life were better, they’d have children… Applying all this, it’s not difficult to imagine what Elizabeth’s “reproach among her people,” must have been like, or the toll it had taken over the course of her life. Now, I’m crediting Elizabeth’s response to the purity of her faith, but a skeptic might ask, “What is there to have faith in? She’s pregnant.” Now, despite the fact that she wasn’t asked to trust in the words of an angel that appeared to her, there are many things that she could have faith in – the health and safe delivery of her baby, the child’s future in the service of the Lord – but the thing we see her faith most apparently in, is in the fact that she’s pregnant to begin with. Because, not to put too fine a point on it, but the most practical assumption of a woman that’s advanced in years who’s beginning to experience certain things would be menopause, not pregnancy. But that’s not what happens with Elizabeth – she conceives, and she praises God. Scripture doesn’t say that she kept herself hidden for five months so that she could figure out what was going on or be absolutely sure, it says that she spent five months hiding herself and that her praise,

“Thus the Lord has done for me in the days when he looked on me, to take away my reproach among people,”

was a constant throughout. Though we’re not given an exact explanation, it seems that the most logical reason for her hiding was to avoid further scrutiny and reproach among the people, but there’s clear support that Elizabeth’s faith was not the issue. We’ve already addressed how Zechariah’s enforced silence ending will coincide with the silence of the intertestamental period broadly ending for God’s people – Zechariah prophesying and John the Baptist born into the world. But what we can see here is that the peace that has first come to Elizabeth – the end of silence, the answered prayers – is what will be broadly given to the people. The forerunner is coming, the one who will level the mountains and raise the valleys, making straight the prepared way for the One who comes after him. The promise of the end of silence has arrived, and with this Luke affords us an opportunity to see the glory and wonder of the coming Christ, the extent of the provision that God has made, both for the individual and the people as a whole, and from these details we may take further confidence in what we have been taught.

Pastor Chris’ sermon (Luke 1:1-4) – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4R7IMQ5WFFc

Pastor Chris’ sermon (Luke 1:5-25) – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JAb-vEQPmjc