Covenant Obedience and the Unmuted Gospel Text: Luke 1:57-66
Introduction: The War Over the Name
We live in an age that desperately wants to name itself. Our culture is obsessed with self-definition, self-creation, and self-expression. We are told from every quarter that the highest good is to look within, discover who you "really are," and then demand that the entire world ratify your chosen identity. This is nothing less than a full-frontal assault on the prerogative of God. God is the one who names. He is the one who defines. He is the one who assigns identity and purpose. To reject His naming is to reject His authority, and to reject His authority is to declare war on reality itself.
In our passage today, we see this conflict in miniature. It is a domestic squabble that is actually a cosmic battle. It is a fight over what to name a baby, but it is really about whose word has the final say: the word of God, or the word of man, tradition, and family consensus. God had spoken. An angel had delivered the message. The name was to be John. But when the time came, the community, the well-meaning neighbors and relatives, came with their own ideas. They came with their traditions and their expectations. "Let's call him Zechariah, after his father." It was sensible. It was traditional. It was wrong.
This is where the rubber of faith meets the road of obedience. It is one thing to believe God's promise in the quiet of your heart. It is another thing entirely to stand against the tide of public opinion and family pressure and obey God's specific command. Zechariah had failed this test once before. He heard the promise from Gabriel but responded with doubt, and for his unbelief, his mouth was stopped for nine months. God graciously gave him a second chance. The test came again, not with an angel in the temple, but with a house full of relatives at a circumcision ceremony. Would he this time believe God's word and obey it? Or would he buckle to the pressure and go with the flow?
The story of the naming of John the Baptist is the story of a man's mouth being unmuted by an act of simple, straightforward obedience. And it is a picture of the gospel. We are all muted by our sin and unbelief, unable to praise God as we ought. But when we, by faith, submit to God's definition of reality, when we write on the tablet of our hearts, "His name is Jesus," then our mouths are opened, our tongues are loosed, and we begin to speak, blessing God. This passage is about the joy that flows from obedience and the fear of the Lord that spreads when God's word is honored above man's.
The Text
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. 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. 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.” 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. And at once his mouth was opened and his tongue loosed, and he began to speak, blessing God. 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.
(Luke 1:57-66 LSB)
Covenant Community and Shared Mercy (v. 57-58)
We begin with the joyful fulfillment of God's promise.
"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." (Luke 1:57-58)
God's timing is always perfect. "The time was fulfilled." God is never early, never late. For decades, Elizabeth and Zechariah had prayed, and for decades, God had been silent. Their barrenness was a public shame and a private grief. But God's delay was not His denial. He was waiting for the perfect moment in redemptive history to act. The birth of John was not just a private blessing for an old couple; it was a crucial gear turning in the great machinery of salvation, preparing the way for the Messiah.
Notice the response of the community. When they heard the news, they understood its source. They didn't chalk it up to luck or a medical anomaly. They knew that "the Lord had magnified His great mercy toward her." They saw the hand of God in it. This is what a healthy community does. It interprets life theologically. It sees personal events through a covenantal lens. Elizabeth's blessing was not just her own; it was a sign of God's faithfulness to His people.
And because they saw God's mercy, their response was not envy or gossip, but shared joy. "They were rejoicing with her." This is the Pauline command in action: "Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep" (Romans 12:15). True fellowship means that your brother's blessing becomes your blessing. His victory is your victory. The mercy shown to one member of the body is a mercy shown to all. This is the opposite of the individualistic, competitive spirit of our age. The covenant community of God is bound together by a shared story and a shared Savior, and so we share in one another's sorrows and joys.
The Covenant Ceremony and the Clash of Wills (v. 59-62)
The scene shifts to the eighth day, the day of circumcision, a pivotal moment of covenant identity.
"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. 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.' And they were making signs to his father, as to what he wanted him called." (Luke 1:59-62 LSB)
On the eighth day, the child was to be circumcised, according to the law given to Abraham (Genesis 17:12). This was the sign of the covenant, marking the child as a member of God's chosen people. It was a physical sign pointing to a spiritual reality: the need for the heart to be cut away from sin. It was at this ceremony that the child would be formally named and welcomed into the community.
Here the conflict arises. The community, operating on tradition and human logic, assumes the boy will be named Zechariah, Jr. It was a good name. It meant "Yahweh remembers," which was certainly appropriate given the circumstances. But God's command trumped human tradition. The angel had been explicit: "you shall call his name John" (Luke 1:13). The name John means "Yahweh is gracious." This child was not primarily a sign that God remembers His promises of old, but that He was now acting in pure grace to bring salvation.
Elizabeth stands firm. "No, but he shall be called John." She had likely been told by her husband, through writing, what God had commanded. Her faith and obedience are remarkable. She doesn't waver. The relatives immediately push back, appealing to tradition: "There is no one among your relatives who is called by this name." Their argument is entirely horizontal. They are thinking in terms of family trees and earthly customs. Elizabeth is thinking vertically, in terms of God's revealed will. This is a classic standoff between the wisdom of man and the command of God. When God speaks, family tradition must take a back seat. When God issues a direct order, our personal preferences and the expectations of others become irrelevant.
Unable to persuade the mother, they turn to the father, still mute and deaf. They make signs to him, asking for his verdict. All the pressure of the community is now focused on this old priest who had been silenced for his initial unbelief. The stage is set for his final exam.
Obedience, Astonishment, and an Open Mouth (v. 63-64)
Zechariah's response is decisive and immediate.
"And he asked for a tablet and wrote as follows, 'His name is John.' And they all marveled. And at once his mouth was opened and his tongue loosed, and he began to speak, blessing God." (Genesis 1:63-64 LSB)
Zechariah doesn't equivocate. He doesn't try to compromise. He asks for a writing tablet. His written declaration is not, "I would like him to be called John," or "Let's name him John." It is a statement of settled fact: "His name is John." He is not proposing a name; he is announcing a reality that God has already established. This is faith. Faith accepts God's word as more real than the circumstances we see or the pressures we feel.
The result is twofold. First, the crowd "all marveled." They were astonished. They recognized that something supernatural was happening. This was not just a stubborn couple defying tradition. This was a divine intervention. The simple act of obedience to a specific command of God caused the world to stop and take notice.
Second, and more dramatically, the consequence of Zechariah's obedience was his immediate healing. "At once his mouth was opened and his tongue loosed." His mouth had been shut because of unbelief; it was opened by faith-filled obedience. The very thing he was judged for, his speech, was restored the moment he used his will to honor God's word. And what is the first thing he does with his restored voice? He doesn't scold his relatives. He doesn't say, "I told you so." He "began to speak, blessing God." Nine months of forced silence had apparently taught him what speech is for. It is for praise. It is for worship. His first words were not about himself, but about the God who is merciful and gracious.
The Fear of the Lord and the Hand of the Lord (v. 65-66)
The ripple effects of this event spread throughout the entire region.
"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." (Luke 1:65-66 LSB)
The marvel of the relatives turned into "fear" for the whole neighborhood. This is not the terror of a slave before a tyrant. This is the biblical fear of the Lord, which is the beginning of wisdom. It is awe. It is the recognition that God is real, He is near, and He is at work. When God shows up and does things that cannot be explained by natural means, the proper response is a holy reverence. Our God is not a tame God. He is a consuming fire, and when His people obey Him, it puts the fear of God into the surrounding culture.
The news spread, and people "put them in their heart." They pondered these things. They didn't just hear it as idle gossip; they stored it up and considered its meaning. This is what God's mighty acts are designed to do: to make us think, to make us ask questions about the ultimate nature of reality. Their question was the right one: "What then will this child be?" They knew this was no ordinary child. The strange circumstances of his birth and naming pointed to a special purpose, a divine destiny.
Luke gives us the answer to their unspoken question. They wondered what he would be because "the hand of the Lord was indeed with him." This is a biblical idiom for God's power and favor resting upon someone. This child was not just the product of an old couple's wish; he was the project of Almighty God. The hand that crafted the cosmos was now resting on this baby in the hill country of Judea, preparing him for his mighty work of heralding the King.
Conclusion: Writing "Jesus" on Your Tablet
The story of Zechariah is our story. In our sin, we are all struck mute. We are unable to offer true and acceptable praise to God. Our mouths are full of complaining, or boasting, or foolishness, but not the heartfelt blessing of God. We are like Zechariah in his nine months of silence, knowing that something is wrong but unable to fix it ourselves.
Then God speaks His word to us. He doesn't tell us to name our son John. He tells us of His Son, Jesus. He commands all men everywhere to repent and believe in this name. The name of Jesus means "Yahweh saves." This is the ultimate declaration of God's grace. And like the relatives in the story, our culture and our own sinful hearts will pressure us to choose another name. Call him "Good Teacher." Call him "Prophet." Call him "One of Many Paths." Call him "My Personal Savior Whom I Keep to Myself." The world will accept any name but the one God has commanded.
The test of faith for us is the same as it was for Zechariah. Will we take the tablet of our hearts and, in defiance of all other pressures, write, "His name is Jesus"? Will we confess with our mouths that Jesus is Lord, and believe in our hearts that God raised him from the dead? The moment we do, the same miracle happens. Our mouths are opened. Our tongues are loosed. The sin that kept us silent is forgiven, and we begin, for the first time, truly to speak, blessing God. Our lives then become a source of marvel and a cause for the fear of the Lord to fall on those around us. They will look at the change in us and ask, "What then will this person be?" And the answer is that the hand of the Lord will be with us, shaping us into the image of the very Son whose name we confessed.