Commentary - Luke 1:57-66

Bird's-eye view

This passage marks a pivotal moment in Luke's narrative: the long-awaited arrival of the forerunner. After centuries of prophetic silence, God is audibly and visibly moving again in Israel. The birth of John is not a quiet, private affair. It is a public event, marked by miraculous intervention and overflowing with covenantal significance. The central action revolves around the naming of the child, which becomes the stage for a dramatic confrontation between human tradition and divine command. Zechariah, the silenced priest, has had nine months to ponder his unbelief and God's faithfulness. His climactic act of obedience, insisting on the name John, unleashes his tongue and triggers a wave of reverent fear throughout the region. This is not just the story of a baby being born; it is the story of God breaking His silence, confirming His promises, and setting the stage for the arrival of the Messiah. Every detail, from the timing of the circumcision to the communal rejoicing and subsequent awe, underscores that this child's life is under the direct and powerful hand of God.

The scene is a microcosm of the gospel's disruptive power. It honors tradition (circumcision on the eighth day) while simultaneously shattering it (the naming). It reveals God's mercy, which provokes joy, and His power, which provokes fear. It shows that obedience to God's specific word, even when it seems strange to others, is the key that unlocks blessing and praise. The final question on everyone's lips, "What then will this child be?" is the very question Luke wants his readers to ask, not just about John, but ultimately about the one to whom John will point.

Outline

Context In Luke

This passage is the fulfillment of the angelic announcement to Zechariah in the temple (Luke 1:5-25). Zechariah's unbelief resulted in his muteness, a divine sign of both judgment for his doubt and a guarantee of the promise's fulfillment. The intervening narrative has focused on the announcement to Mary and her subsequent visit to Elizabeth, where the unborn John leaped in his mother's womb at the presence of the unborn Jesus (Luke 1:39-45). This was followed by Mary's magnificent song, the Magnificat (Luke 1:46-55). Now, the story returns to Zechariah and Elizabeth. The birth of John is the first of the two promised births that anchor the beginning of Luke's gospel. His birth and naming directly precede Zechariah's own prophetic song, the Benedictus (Luke 1:67-79), which will explain the significance of this child's ministry. This entire section is steeped in the atmosphere of the Old Testament, full of priestly activity, covenant signs, and prophetic utterance, demonstrating that the gospel story is the fulfillment of all that God had promised to His people Israel.

Key Issues

The Obedience That Unlocks the Tongue

For nine months, Zechariah has been in God's quiet house. A priest, a man of the word, has been rendered wordless. His sin was unbelief. He heard a direct promise from the angel Gabriel and responded with, "How shall I know this?" It was a respectable sort of unbelief, couched in the language of a reasonable request for verification, but it was unbelief nonetheless. God's response was to give him a sign that was also a judgment: silence. This silence was not merely punitive; it was instructive. It forced Zechariah to meditate on the word he had refused to believe. He could not speak his own words, so he was left with only God's words.

The whole drama of this passage hinges on the moment when Zechariah is tested again. Will he follow human custom and familial expectation, or will he obey the specific, peculiar command of God delivered by the angel? The community pressure is significant. They have a perfectly reasonable plan: name the boy after his father. It's traditional, honorable, and sensible. But God's command was not sensible in that way. It was specific: "His name is John." When Zechariah, unable to speak, takes the tablet and writes, he is not just naming his son. He is making his confession of faith. He is declaring, after nine months of reflection, that he believes the word of the Lord. And the moment he obeys, the judgment is lifted. His tongue is loosed, and the very first thing he does is bless God. This is a living parable of our relationship with God. Unbelief shuts the mouth. But when faith, prompted by God's grace, leads to obedience, the result is an explosion of praise.

Verse by Verse Commentary

57-58 Now the time was fulfilled for Elizabeth to give birth, and she gave birth to a son. And her neighbors and her relatives heard that the Lord had magnified His great mercy toward her, and they were rejoicing with her.

The language of fulfillment is crucial. God keeps His appointments. Just as Sarah bore a son to Abraham "at the set time of which God had spoken to him" (Gen 21:2), so Elizabeth gives birth right on schedule. This is not happenstance; it is divine providence. The birth itself is an occasion for communal joy. Notice the theological lens through which the community interprets this event. They don't just see a baby born to an old woman; they see that the Lord had "magnified His great mercy." They rightly attribute this blessing to its source. The shame of Elizabeth's barrenness has been removed, and this personal mercy is a public testimony. Their rejoicing is not mere social convention; it is a shared celebration of God's goodness. This is what a healthy community does: it magnifies God's mercy in the lives of its members and rejoices together.

59 And it happened that on the eighth day they came to circumcise the child, and they were going to call him Zechariah, after the name of his father.

They gather on the eighth day, in direct obedience to the covenant command given to Abraham (Gen 17:12). Circumcision was the sign of the covenant, the mark that placed this child within the commonwealth of Israel. It was a bloody sign, a pointer to the fact that covenant inclusion comes through a cutting off, a substitutionary sacrifice. At this covenant ceremony, it was customary to formally name the child. The community's intention is entirely natural and honorific. To name him Zechariah Jr. would be to honor his father and carry on the family name. Their intentions are good, but they are operating according to human tradition, unaware of the divine mandate that has been given.

60-61 But his mother answered and said, “No, but he shall be called John.” And they said to her, “There is no one among your relatives who is called by this name.”

Elizabeth intervenes. She is the first line of defense for God's command. We are not told how she knew, perhaps Zechariah had written it down for her, but she is resolute. Her "No" is firm. She doesn't suggest; she declares, "he shall be called John." The name itself means "Yahweh is gracious," a fitting name for the one who would prepare the way for the ultimate display of God's grace. The relatives immediately object, and their objection is rooted in tradition: "There is no one among your relatives who is called by this name." They appeal to precedent. This is how we've always done it. Their objection reveals how easily human customs can be elevated to the level of unquestionable laws, creating a barrier to fresh obedience to God.

62-63 And they were making signs to his father, as to what he wanted him called. And he asked for a tablet and wrote as follows, “His name is John.” And they all marveled.

The crowd, not satisfied with Elizabeth's answer, turns to the father, the head of the household. They assume he is deaf as well as mute, so they use sign language. This is the moment of truth for Zechariah. The pressure is on. Will he acquiesce to the crowd and honor tradition, or will he obey God? His action is decisive. He asks for a writing tablet. He doesn't write, "I would like to call him John," or "Let's call him John." He writes with prophetic authority, echoing the angel's command and his wife's declaration: "His name is John." This is not a proposal; it is a statement of fact. This is the name God has given him. The reaction is immediate: they all marveled. They are astonished at this unified front of parental resolve against all custom, and they begin to sense that something supernatural is afoot.

64 And at once his mouth was opened and his tongue loosed, and he began to speak, blessing God.

The consequence of Zechariah's obedience is instantaneous and miraculous. The divine judgment is lifted precisely at the moment of his demonstrated faith. And what is the first thing he does with his restored speech? He doesn't scold the relatives. He doesn't say, "I told you so." He blesses God. Nine months of forced silence have filled his heart to bursting, and it erupts in praise. His first words are worship. This teaches us a profound lesson: the purpose of our speech, the very reason God has given us tongues, is to bless Him. Zechariah's praise is not just for his son, but for the God who keeps His promises, the God who judges and restores, the God who is setting His plan of salvation in motion.

65-66 And fear came on all those living around them, and all these matters were being talked about in all the hill country of Judea. And all who heard these things put them in their heart, saying, “What then will this child be?” For the hand of the Lord was indeed with him.

The marvel of the relatives now deepens into fear among the wider community. This is not a slavish terror, but a reverential awe. They recognize that they are in the presence of divine power. God is at work here, and it is an awesome thing to behold. The story spreads like wildfire. This is not idle gossip; these events are being "talked about" and "put in their heart." People are pondering the significance of it all. They connect the strange circumstances of the birth and naming with the miraculous healing of Zechariah and draw the right conclusion: "the hand of the Lord was indeed with him." This phrase, common in the Old Testament, signifies God's power and favor resting upon an individual for a special purpose. The section ends with the question that hangs over the rest of the narrative until Christ appears: "What then will this child be?" The answer is that he will be the prophet of the Most High, the forerunner of the King.

Application

This story is a powerful reminder that obedience to the specific commands of God often requires us to go against the grain of accepted tradition and friendly peer pressure. The relatives of Zechariah and Elizabeth had good, sensible, traditional reasons for wanting to name the baby Zechariah. It was the normal thing to do. But God had commanded something abnormal. True faith is demonstrated when we are willing to obey the plain word of God even when it makes us look peculiar to those around us.

We also see the fruit of such obedience. For Zechariah, obedience literally untied his tongue and turned his long silence into a torrent of praise. When we are stuck in a place of spiritual dryness or silence, the way out is often a simple, concrete act of obedience. Is there something God has told you to do in His word that you have been resisting because it's awkward, or counter-cultural, or simply not what your family has always done? Zechariah's example encourages us to take up the tablet and write, "His name is John", to do the thing God has commanded. When we do, we will find our own mouths opened to bless God for His faithfulness.

Finally, we should cultivate the same response as the people of the hill country. When we see God at work, it should produce in us a holy fear, a reverential awe. We should talk about His mighty deeds and ponder them in our hearts. The Christian life is not meant to be a dull, predictable routine. The hand of the Lord is still with His people, and we should live in constant, prayerful expectation, asking of the new works God is doing among us, "What then will this be?"