1  The Birth of the Forerunner

Scripture: Luke 1:5-25; 57-80

The darkness of the night

Four hundred years had passed since the voice of prophecy was last heard in Israel. But the memory of the promise lived on in the hearts of the people of God. In the darkness of the night they looked for the rising of the “Sun of Righteousness” (Mal. 4:2). There were still the Sime­ons and Annas who waited for “the consolation of Israel” and looked for “redemption in Israel” (Luke 2:25, 38).

The “night” was indeed dark. Herod, an Edomite, a descendant there­­fore of Esau, sat on David’s throne. He had been planted there by the Romans, under whose dominion the Jews chafed. The scepter seemed surely to have departed from Judah.

Worse still was the growing apostasy of the Jews generally.  Un­der the leadership of the scribes and Pharisees, religion had become a mat­ter of mere form—a service of the lips and not of the heart. And when John the Baptist, and then Christ Himself, would later de­clare that the kingdom of heaven was at hand (Matt. 3:2 and 4:17), it soon became clear that a kingdom not of this earth was foreign to the thinking of Israel’s spiritual leaders.

The promise of God, however, is sure. In fact, the prophet Malachi had foretold that it would be in dark days such as these that the Lord would “suddenly come to his temple” (Mal. 3:1).  And thus it happened.   In the days of wicked Herod, the king of Judea, the great good news of the soon coming of the forerunner of the Messiah came to a “certain priest named Zacharias” (Luke 1:5).

Zacharias and Elisabeth

Zacharias and his wife Elisa­beth lived alone, for God had not given them any children. Elisabeth was barren (1:7), so while her women friends were becoming mothers in Israel, Elisabeth remained childless. For a long time she and her husband prayed earnestly that God would give them a baby. Year after year they waited however, and gradually, as they both grew old, they came to believe that it was too late. It was impossible, they thought, for them to have children anymore, so they gave up hope for it and tried not to be sad for what they saw to be the will of God in their lives.

Though disappointed that he had no children to bring up in the fear of the Lord, Zacharias was happy that he was able at least to serve God in another way. For he was a priest in Israel. He lived in the hill country of Judea (1:39, 40), but, because he was a priest, he would go several times a year to Jerusalem to work in the temple. In the temple there was much work to be done. There were sacrifices to be made, incense to be burned, prayers to be spoken, cleaning up to do. And all of this work fell to the priests and to their helpers, the Levites.

Zacharias is chosen  to burn the incense

The particular tasks assigned to each priest were determined by the casting of lots. In that way there would be a sharing of the work, so that certain priests would not, for example, every time have to do the cleanup chores. Early every morning the priests eagerly awaited the casting of the lots to find out what their work for the day would be.

One day, so we are told, it was the lot of Zacharias to burn the in­cense in the Holy Place (1:9). Though all of the work in the temple was a privilege for the priests, the burning of incense was thought to be the greatest privilege of all. So special was that work, that no priest was allowed to do it more than once in his whole life. Zacharias was very happy there­fore to see that it was his lot to burn the incense.  

Zacharias watched while other priests cleaned the altar of burnt offering and placed fresh wood on it, and while still others killed the sacri­ficial lamb and sprinkled its blood on the altar. 

And then it was his turn. He and two other priests pre­pared to enter the Holy Place. One of the two filled a golden bowl with burning coals from the altar of burnt offering. The other filled a golden censer with about half a pound of incense and handed it to Zacharias. The three of them then went together into the Holy Place, which was lit by the flickering light of the seven-branched candlestick.

Once inside, the two priests who accompanied Zacharias prepared the altar by spreading the live coals over its top. Then they went back out into the Court of the Priests, leaving Zacharias standing alone next to the altar of incense, with the cen­ser of incense in his hand. The old priest listened there for the sound of a bell, which was the signal for the people in the courts to be quiet and to pray to God. When he heard the bell, he took the censer and poured the incense over the live coals, so that, while the people were pray­ing, and while he also as a priest prayed for them, the smoke of the burning in­cense would pass through the veil and fill the Holy of Holies with a sweet, pleasing aroma.

Significance of the burning of incense

Twice every day, at the hour of prayer, priests burned incense in this way in the Holy Place, next to the Holy of Holies.  

Do you know why they did that? They did it of course because God told them to do it. But what was the purpose of it all?   What did this twice-daily ceremony mean? 

Think of it this way: In Old Testa­ment Israel, God dwelt with His people in the temple, behind the veil, in the Holy of Holies. To this God the people must come near to pray. But how could they do that? God is a great and holy God. Man is only a puny creature and a terrible sinner besides. What right does he have to come close to God and pray to Him? The truth is that he has no right at all to do that . . . if he comes by him­self.. And it was the burning of the in­cense that, in the picture lang­uage of the old dispensation, spoke to Is­rael about the only way in which they could be accepted by God.

How did it do that? How could sweet-smelling incense make prayers acceptable to God, who is not, like a man, affected by pleasing aromas? It is true, of course, that the odor meant nothing to God. What was im­portant was that the in­cense was burning on coals taken from the altar of burnt offering, on which was sprin­kled the blood of the lamb that was killed for a sacrifice to God. And why was that important? Because the sacrifice of the lamb was an Old Testa­ment picture of the death of Christ, who is the Lamb of God, sent by God to take away the sin of His people in the world.

What right did Israel have, then, to come to God in prayer?  The smoke of the incense told it all, for it spoke of the lamb, the blood, the sac­rifice—and thus of Christ, the Lamb of God who was to come. In Him could the saints of the Old Testament pray to God and be accepted by Him.

Ceremony abolished in new dispensation, but truth of it retained


No longer today do we kill animals for sacrifice to God. No longer do we burn incense on live coals taken from the altar of burnt offering. That’s because we no longer need signs pointing us to the coming of Jesus, for Jesus has al­ready come. But that doesn’t mean that we are no longer sinners. It doesn’t mean that we, any more than the saints of God in the Old Testa­ment, can come to God in our­selves. And we don’t either. What the people of God once did, in a picture, by burning incense, we do in our prayers when we close them with those little words that are so very important, “for Jesus’ sake, Amen.” 

The appearance of Gabriel before Zacharias

Now, what was it that Zacha­rias prayed in the Holy Place, while the smoke of the burning incense passed through the veil? 

At a time such as that, he would surely pray for Israel, for their good, for the ful­filling of God’s promises to them, for the coming of the Messiah. And it was while he prayed for such things, that a most wonderful thing hap­pened. For there appeared suddenly next to the altar of incense an angel of the Lord (1:11). Not for four hundred years had there been direct communication from heaven to God’s people. At long last, here was the angel Gabriel himself standing before Zacharias. 

The old priest was of course frightened, for he knew himself to be a sinner in the presence of this heavenly messenger. The angel, how­ever, told Zacharias not to be afraid, for the news he had was good: Your prayer is heard. The Christ will come soon.   In fact, your own wife will have a son, whose name you must call John, who will be the herald, the forerunner, of the Messiah (1:13-17).

Necessity of a forerunner for the Messiah

A herald is one who goes before another, before an im­portant person, to announce his com­ing and to prepare the people for his coming. Such would be the work of John the Baptist. It was a work that was foretold in the Old Testa­ment Scriptures. “Behold, I will send my messenger,” God had said through Malachi the prophet, “and he shall prepare the way before me” (Mal. 3:1). 

But why, we might ask, would it be necessary to prepare the people for something that they had been told was coming, and for something to which they had been looking forward eagerly for hundreds, even thousands, of years? 

It is because the Jews were looking for the wrong thing. A Messiah they surely wanted, but they wanted a Messiah who would lead their armies in victory against their earthly enemies and make the Jewish nation great again in the eyes of the world. For that kind of a Messiah they would need no preparation. But for a Lamb of God, who would take away the sin of the world—for that kind of a Messiah they needed to be prepared. The forerunner, therefore, must turn the hearts of the children of Israel to the Lord their God.

Zacharias’ disbelief

These were the things of which the angel Gabriel spoke to Zacharias in the Holy Place. The Christ is coming, coming soon, and your son will have the great honor of pointing Him out to the people of Israel. What great, good news!

But it was just too much, too sudden, and too unexpected for old Zacharias. He couldn’t all at once understand, get a hold of, all the things that the angel of God told him. There was however one idea that right away did strike home: You are going to have a son. And Zacharias just couldn’t believe that. He understood that it was an angel of God Himself who said it, but he could not believe it. He and his wife were both old—and old people just do not have babies. 

“Whereby shall I know this?” he therefore asked the angel, “for I am an old man, and my wife well stricken in years” (Luke 1:18). 

What he was saying, really, was, “This can­not happen . . . because I am old.” And Gabriel’s answer amounted to this: “This will happen . . . because I am Gabri­el. I stand in the presence of God. My message is from Him. It is His word that you are doubting.” 

Furthermore, the angel said, “You ask for a sign? A sign will be given you. You will be dumb, not able to speak, till the word of God is fulfilled in the birth of your son” (1:19, 20).

Curiosity of the people

With that, the angel was gone, and Zacharias was left alone in the Holy Place. 

The people in the temple courts, meanwhile, were be­ginning to wonder why Zacharias stayed so long in the Holy Place (1:21).  Usual­ly the priest who burned the incense would be in the Holy Place for a very short time.  After complet­ing the service of sprinkling he would return im­mediately to the people and dismiss them with a benediction—a short prayer of blessing. When the people this time finished their prayers, therefore, they expected Zacharias to reappear at the door of the sanctuary. But for several min­utes he did not come back out, and the people began to wonder what was happening inside.

When Zacharias finally did come out to them, the people had all the more reason to wonder. For, when he took his place on the steps where he was supposed to give the benediction, the old priest could not utter a single sound. Zacharias made motions with his hands, and the people guessed correctly that he had seen a vision in the Holy Place (1:22). They were curious, of course, to know what it all could mean, but Zacharias was able to tell them nothing, for the dumbness that according to the word of the angel would afflict him for more than nine months had taken immediate ef­fect.

A happy couple awaits the birth of John

At the end of his week of ser­vice in the temple, Zacharias returned to his home in the hill country of Judea. He could hardly wait to tell the wonderful news to Elisabeth—not only that they were actually, in their old age, going to have a baby, but also that the son who was to be born to them was going to be “great in the sight of the Lord,” for he would be the forerunner of the Christ. Great things were soon to happen in Israel, and he and his wife were privileged by God to be a part of them.

Zacharias would have loved to have been able to talk about all that with his wife, but he could not. Be­cause his faith had faltered and he had doubted the word of the angel, he could not say a word. He could share the news with Elisabeth only by writing it all out. Neverthe­less, they were very happy, and to­gether they waited for the birth of John.

The naming of the child

In due time Elisabeth gave birth to a baby boy. And when the child was eight days old, all of the friends and relatives of Zacharias and Elisa­beth came together to celebrate with them the circumcising and the naming of the child (1:59). 

The new parents had said nothing about the name of their baby boy, but all of the guests were sure that it would be Zacharias. It was common in those days, as it is today, for a man to name one of his sons after himself. Zachari­as was too old to expect an­other son, so he would surely, they thought, want to name this one Zacharias. 

But when they began to refer to the baby as little Zacharias, Elisa­beth told them that that was not to be. His name, she said, must be John (1:60).

Puzzled by that, the guests all looked toward Zacharias, to see if this was really what he wanted.  (“Nodded toward,” incidentally, is evidently a better translation here than “made signs to,” which has led some com­men­tators, mistakenly, to assume that Zacharias must have been also deaf. There is no good evidence for that in the text.) Zacharias responded by motioning for a writing tablet, and on it he wrote simply, “His name is John” (1:62, 63).

Meaning of the name

No better name could there be for such a child as this. For John means “the Lord is gracious.” 

The Lord was gracious, of course, in giv­ing to this old couple a son. But, during the months in which Zacharias was waiting for the birth of his son, he had begun to understand that the little baby he would hold in his arms would be far more than a gift of God to two old people. The child was a gift to all of God’s people. That would be true because John’s great work would not stand alone. He would pre­pare the way for the Lord Himself. You might say that the Messiah, the long-awaited Redeemer, was at the very door, and John’s work would be to introduce Him. 

What was important, therefore, in all of this, was not first of all Zacharias and Elisabeth and their happiness. It was the fact that Christ was coming soon, for His fore­runner was born, was alive, was in their very arms. God is indeed gra­cious—to all of His people. Redemp­tion is near.   So . . . “his name is John!”

The song of Zacharias

Did Zacharias understand that? Listen to him. Yes, we can listen to him. For all of a sudden he talks. For nearly ten months he had been unable to say so much as one word. But now, right after he wrote “His name is John,” his voice comes back and he bursts into praise to God. 

And what did he say? Did he say anything about himself? Did he talk about how glad he was that God had given them a baby in their old age—so that they could have the joy of bringing up a son, and so that they would not, as they had before thought, die child­less?

No, he spoke only of salvation and redemption—for Israel (1:67-69). Zacharias knew what he was saying. He knew the desperate spirit­ual condition of Israel, that they sat in the very shadow of death (1:74). But he sees hope. He sees hope in the one whose way was to be pre­pared by his son, John; hope in the dayspring from on high who would give light to those who sit in darkness (1:78, 79); hope in the one who would guide our feet in the way of perfect peace—and all be­cause sal­vation in Him was to be found, not in earthly riches or in political or mili­tary power, but in this:  remission of sins (1:77)!

John’s preparation for his great work

That was the “song of Zachari­as.” And that is the last we hear of Zacharias and Elisabeth. How long they lived after the birth of John we do not know. Very likely they lived long enough to give him godly in­struction in his childhood—but al­most certainly not long enough to see him begin his work as forerunner of Christ. 

We do not read anything about John either, from the time of his circumcision on the eighth day, to the time of his “showing unto Israel”—except for this short notice that he grew, and became spiritually strong, and was in the deserts (1:80). He had to be taught the Scriptures, of course, but his parents must have been amazed by how fast he learned, and by how well he understood the Word of God. And when he became a young man he did not go to the Jewish rabbis for further instruction. From them he could not expect to learn the truth. He went instead into the wil­derness, in places where no one else lived, in order that he might spend much time in meditation and in prayer, to be prepared thus by God Himself for his great work of preaching re­pentance—for the king­dom of God was at hand.
===========================================
Return to A New Work on New Testament History Page