Commentary on the Gospels

First Visit by Gabriel
Luke 1:5-25

Exposition

Verses 5-7. In the hundred years before Jerusalem was destroyed in AD 70, there were many rulers in the region of Palestine who were named Herod, but they all descended from Herod the Great, the one mentioned here by Luke. The first Herod held sway over Judea as well as other territories nearby. In days past, scholars agreed that his reign spanned from 37 BC to 4 BC. Although some today favor a terminal date in 1 BC, they have not succeeded in overturning the dates accepted in the past. Advocates for the endpoints traditionally assigned to his reign include myself, and elsewhere I have presented an extensive case in their favor.¹

This Herod was an immoral brute who executed three of his own sons as well as one wife who had been his favorite. Yet he did not suffer a short supply of immediate family members. He had nine other wives and eleven other children.

Although sovereign over the Jews, his own background was not Jewish. His family came from Idumea, the same region known as Edom in the Old Testament. When the Jews conquered Idumea in 125 BC, they forced all the citizens of that country to embrace the Jewish religion. So, although Idumean by birth, Herod was cradled in Judaism, and he remained its professing adherent throughout his life. Yet when he rose to power, he did not scruple to build temples for the Roman gods. Never in his life did he show the least evidence that he feared the real God of heaven. Yet God allowed him to sit on the throne for many years, including the year of all events recorded in Luke 1.

After sketching the setting in time and place, Luke proceeds to introduce the principal characters in his first story. They are the priest Zacharias and his wife Elisabeth, also from the priestly tribe of Aaron. The law did not specify that to retain his eligibility for the priesthood, a man of Aaronic descent had to marry a woman from the same background. Yet a home where both man and wife were from priestly families was considered doubly blessed. Certainly God's blessing was evident in the lives of Zacharias and Elisabeth, for they were overflowing with devotion to God, so that Luke could say, "And they were both righteous before God, walking in all the commandments and the ordinances of the Lord blameless" (Luke 1:6).

But many of the Jews who knew this couple probably suspected that they harbored some secret sin, for they had never produced any children, although now they had reached old age. Children were considered one of the highest blessings from God and surest proofs of His favor (Ps. 128:1-3; 113:9). But many Jews were unfortunately rather judgmental toward anyone going through trouble or disappointment. Their assumption was that God was punishing them for sin in their lives.² Such holier-than-thou thinking was encouraged by self-righteous Pharisees, who disregarded the clear teaching of Old Testament Scripture (Ps. 34:19). Twice during His years of ministry, Jesus sought to correct this warped way of thinking (John 9:1-3; Luke 13:1-5). Why then was Elisabeth barren if God was not displeased with her and her husband? Because the lives of all believers include trials and disappointments that God uses to build their character, especially by adding more of the wonderful virtue known as patience (Rom. 5:3; James 1:3–4; 2 Pet. 1:5–8). Or His purpose may be to make them more fruitful as witnesses for Christ. For example, if a Christian couple fails to have any children, one possible reason is that both husband and wife are vitally needed in some full-time ministry. Zacharias and Elisabeth were left childless early in life because God was preparing them to provide the best possible upbringing for their son John the Baptist, who would prove to be the greatest prophet ever sent by God (Luke 7:28). As a boy, he apparently needed a home with two very mature parents who were undistracted by any other family obligations. Yet Elisabeth’s barrenness in previous years was doubtless a source of great sorrow not only because she was denied the joy of mothering, but also because she sensed that other Jews were looking at her askance, as if her barrenness made her a morally inferior person who deserved to be scorned by others.

Verses 8-10. Yet despite the burden of being childless, Zacharias continued steadfastly in serving the Lord and seeking in all respects to please Him. As a priest, he assisted in public worship at the Temple in Jerusalem, but it was not a full-time job. Thousands of men belonged to the priesthood, and the whole company served together in Jerusalem only at the three major festivals: Passover and Unleavened Bread in the spring, Pentecost in the summer, and Tabernacles in the fall. Otherwise, there was a system of rotation. The priests were divided into 24 courses, which served one at a time according to a prescribed order. Zacharias belonged to the course of Abia (or Abijah), eighth in the original sequence of 24 (1 Chron. 24:10). Each course worked in the Temple for only one week before surrendering its place to the next course. Thus, in addition to the major festivals, a priest would perform priestly duties only two weeks during the year, and during the interim, which was at least 23 weeks long, he was off-duty at home. He would then engage himself in some ordinary occupation, such as farming.

Luke proceeds to tell us about God's sudden intrusion into the lives of Zacharias and Elizabeth when they had reached old age. It was something wonderful and extraordinary that happened in the Temple while the priest Zacharias was performing his duties. He was chosen by lot to assume the privilege of offering incense on the altar of incense. The procedure they used is generally called "casting lots" (Lev. 16:8; Josh. 18:6; Prov. 16:33; John 19:24; etc.). But in a given case, we do not know exactly what the lots were or how they were cast or how they read the outcome. The modern counterpart would be drawing straws or flipping a coin.

The altar of incense was within the first chamber of the Temple, the one known as the Holy Place. Beyond was the inner chamber, the Holy of Holies, where, in Solomon’s Temple, the ark of the covenant had resided. The very glory of God had originally rested upon the Mercy Seat above the ark. Even in the Temple that existed in Jesus’ day, it was supposed, and no doubt correctly, that the Holy of Holies still housed the divine presence, although the Shekinah glory was absent. The only time during the year when anyone entered the inner chamber was on the Day of Atonement. Then the high priest entered it more than once to burn incense and to sprinkle the blood of sacrifices on the Mercy Seat and on the ground. Between the two chambers hung a heavy, ornate veil, and set before this veil within the first chamber was the altar of incense. Approaching the altar along each side of the same chamber was a row of five candlesticks and five tables of showbread.

What was the larger meaning in the design of the Temple? The chamber behind the altar was the earthly space lifting our eyes to the throne room of heaven. The outer chamber represented how men in this world normally communicate with God. It was like a prayer closet. The bread on the tables and the light shining from the candlesticks pictured our fellowship with Christ, who is both the light (John 8:12) and the bread (John 6:35). The burning incense whose smoke wafted upward from the altar and through the veil to the innermost chamber illustrated the prayers of God’s people. At Christ's death, the veil was rent from top to bottom (Matt. 27:50-51). This divine stroke signified that the way to heaven is now open to us. In fact, we are there already as members of Christ's body (Eph. 2:6).

The altar in the first chamber is where, soon after the dawning of a new day, a priest laid incense upon glowing coals brought from the altar of sacrifice outside the Temple. They were the residue of a burnt offering rendered to God earlier the same morning. The rite of offering incense was counted a great privilege in part because a priest was allowed to perform it only once during his lifetime. In Zacharias’s priestly life, spanning perhaps as many as sixty years, he had watched the lot being cast hundreds of times, yet never before had it fallen in his favor. God did not assign him this task until the day arrived when it would make him party to a wonderful moment in redemptive history. That moment would bring an announcement that the Jews would soon see their long-awaited Messiah.

Before entering the Temple to fulfill a privilege he had long coveted, Zacharias was required to choose two helpers among his friends or relatives. One entered first and removed the remains of the last offering on the altar. Then he backed out slowly and reverently with his body bowed forward and his palms pressed together in a gesture of prayer. Next, the other assistant went in to lay out hot coals on the altar. Then he likewise retreated. Finally, it was Zacharias’s turn. As he went through the door and approached the altar, he was no doubt filled with great elation mixed with anxiety. His role was to lay the incense on the altar and wait until it was kindled before he left as the others did.³

It was fitting that as Zacharias performed his service, the people outside the Temple were prostrate in earnest prayer. No doubt one theme of their petitions was a keen, perhaps even desperate, longing to see the Messiah’s day. What happened next should be understood as God beginning to move in answer to their prayers. The occasion He chose—the offering of incense on the altar—was meant to emphasize the link between prayer and divine working. He was reminding us that the raising of prayer to God’s throne is our best tool for shaping the future.

Verses 11-12. The account does not tell us exactly how far Zacharias had progressed in performing his duties before something happened that wholly diverted his attention and made him sorely afraid. An angel appeared to him. The way Luke tells the story may leave some readers with the impression that the interruption came soon after Zacharias entered the room, perhaps as he was approaching the altar to lay incense upon it. Yet it is more likely that the writer is condensing his account by including only the essentials. Zacharias was probably allowed to finish his work before the angel showed himself and began to speak. When planning the encounter, the Lord knew that it would leave the elderly priest in an agitated state rendering him unfit to do his work exactly as required.

As Zacharias went into the Temple, he was already apprehensive, for he was carrying out the most important service he had ever been assigned, and he would never undertake it again. The high chamber where he had come was adorned with gold softly glowing like the muted sunshine of another world. Around him were sacred objects seldom seen by the eyes of mortal men. The atmosphere was as quiet as nighttime, for the worshipers outside were kneeling in silent prayer. The light was subdued. Altogether it was a place with an atmosphere like the threshold of heaven, and the old priest could sense that God was near.

Then his soul was jolted by the flashing of angelic glory, as an unearthly being suddenly materialized before him on the right side of the altar. At first the priest must have wondered whether he was seeing a manifestation of God Himself, for many others in the history of his race had met with God face-to-face. The Lord visited Abraham on the plains of Mamre (Gen. 18:1), wrestled with Jacob by the brook Jabbok (Gen. 32:24-30), and in the form of a man of war, He gave a battle plan to Joshua as he surveyed Jericho (Josh. 5:13-15). Yet the precedent that most likely occurred to Zacharias was the Lord’s regular communion with Moses inside the Tabernacle during the years of wilderness wandering (Exod. 33:9-11). Zacharias stood in a reconstruction of the same Holy Place where Moses saw the Lord. Therefore, it was only natural if Zacharias assumed that the radiance on his right hand was divine glory. No wonder great fear descended upon the elderly man. He could not draw enough courage from his priestly role and his priestly garments to stand fearless before God Himself.

But it was not the Lord. It was an angel, a messenger from heaven. Luke calls him "an angel of the Lord,"⁴ wording distinct from another title that appears sometimes in the Old Testament, "the angel of the Lord" (Gen. 16:7; 22:11; Judg. 6:11 [literally, "the angel"]; 13:3, 13, 15, 16, 18, 20–21; 2 Kings 1:15; etc.⁵), an expression that invariably refers to a preincarnate visitation of Christ. His words in Genesis 16:10 as well as in other texts leave no doubt as to His identity. After seeing Him, "Manoah said unto his wife, We shall surely die, because we have seen God" (Judg. 13:22). After all, the basic meaning of malak, the Hebrew word usually translated "angel," is simply "messenger."⁶ But the messenger or angel who appeared to Zacharias was a true member of the angelic order, a high-ranking angel whose name is given later in the account. He was Gabriel (v. 19).

Verses 13-15. Gabriel’s mission was entirely benevolent. There was nothing in what he was given to do or to say that Zacharias needed to fear. Besides, greater familiarity with angels would have taught Zacharias that although they are awesomely powerful beings controlled by a serious purpose and capable of a stern manner, they are basically full of kindness in their motivation. Gabriel had no desire to terrify the elderly man of God. Rather, he wanted to bring joy to his heart, and his first words were meant to reassure Zacharias of his friendly intentions. He said, "Fear not" (v. 13a). Time and again when angels have appeared to the righteous in a form recognizable as angelic, they have spoken the same opening words (Matt. 28:5; Mark 16:5-6; Luke 1:30; 2:10). The reason is obvious. The sight of a glorified holy being displaying at least a portion of his grandeur is always very unsettling to lesser beings like ourselves, so touched with weakness that we would be defenseless if the angel sought to do us harm. Even a child of God is not exempt from a fear of this kind. It is only natural for creatures of mortal flesh to feel intimidated by heavenly creatures.

Therefore, to calm Zacharias’s heart, Gabriel immediately announced the good news that he was bringing (vv. 13b, 14). He said that after long years of waiting and praying, Zacharias and Elisabeth were going to have a son. Then the angel told the priest what name the son should be given. He should be called John. And to reaffirm that he was bringing good news, Gabriel said that the child would bring his parents joy and gladness, and that many would "rejoice at his birth."

The name John, derived from the Hebrew Yohanan, means "God is gracious."⁷ It was a fitting name considering how God would use the boy, for, as Gabriel proceeded to tell the father, John would not be just a child like others, but a child with a special calling. He would grow up to fill an important role in God’s plan for the nation, to the extent that he would become "great in the sight of the Lord." He would indeed show that God is gracious, for he would display divine grace in two ways: first, through his own walk before the Lord; second, through his impact upon others.

He himself would be most unusual (v. 15). From his earliest years, he would live according to the Nazirite vow, which the law of Moses created for any man or woman who wanted to set himself apart for special dedication to the Lord (Num. 6:1-21). The term of the vow could be as long as the person desired, and in nearly all cases, it was only for a temporary season. But like two other giants in sacred history, Sampson (Judg. 13:5, 7; 16:17) and Samuel (1 Sam. 1:11), John would be a Nazirite throughout his whole life.

The only rule placed on John by the angel was that he must abstain from wine and strong drink, but Zacharias would have understood that a Nazirite is bound by other rules also. Altogether there were three requirements.

1. As Gabriel specified for John, a Nazirite was forbidden to drink wine or strong drink. In addition, probably to make sure that he did not accidentally ingest any alcohol, the law did not permit him to consume vinegar or grapes or anything else derived from a grape vine (Num. 6:3, 4). No doubt the purpose of the first requirement was to show that control by alcohol is incompatible with control by the Spirit of God (Eph. 5:18). Yet alcohol is merely one avenue that the flesh can use to gain mastery over a man’s heart. His heart is prize territory that is the occasion of continual warfare between two superpowers, the flesh and the Spirit. It is certain that one or the other will gain possession. Yet he can choose which will be victorious. The first requirement of a Nazirite taught that a servant of God must submit to control by the Spirit rather than by the flesh (Gal. 5:16-25).
2. A vow-taker, whether man or woman, was required never to shave his or her head (Num. 6:5). Doubtless one of God’s purposes in the second requirement was to assure that any Nazirite, especially a man, who had remained faithful to his calling for many years would be easily recognized by others. The long hair served as public testimony to his vow, which normally expressed a desire to please God. Among fellow Israelites who were also spiritually minded, he was therefore treated with respect, viewed as a source of wise counsel, and perhaps even raised to positions of leadership. Yet among pagans or among mockers of religious zeal, he might well have become a target of contempt. Having long hair therefore required him to value the praise of God more than the praise of men. The second requirement of a Nazirite taught that a servant of God must hold his place on spiritual ground even when standing there is unpopular.
3. Lastly, a Nazirite was forbidden to touch a dead body, even the body of a loved one (Num.6:6–7). The symbolism was transparent. Walking with God is, of course, the way to life, not death. Death in the eternal sense will never touch God’s children (John 8:51), for they are creatures filled with life and life more abundant (John 10:10). Death comes to members of the human race only because they are sinners, and the wages of sin is death (Rom. 6:23). Although God’s children have been saved from the death which is the just consequence of their sin, they are not free to continue sinning. When saved from sin’s penalty, they are also saved from sin’s mastery, so that they might please God with holy lives, moving steadily along a course toward complete victory over sin (Rom. 6:11-14). Here we see the meaning of the third requirement imposed upon a Nazirite Staying away from death was a picture of staying away from the viper with a deadly sting, the viper known as sin.

In summary, the law of the Nazirite was clearly designed to carry a timeless message. The three requirements of a vow-taker were not esoteric rites in a shadowy religious cult, but rather helpful guideposts to godly living. To walk with God, it is essential to seek control by the Spirit rather than by the flesh, to remain faithful to God's calling even if it brings scorn or persecution, and to shun sin. That was the message in simple terms, and we would be well-advised to listen.

The angel proceeded to give Zacharias some glimpse of the ground-breaking ministry that God intended for his son John (v. 15b). One reason the child would live as a Nazirite even from the beginning of his life was that the Holy Spirit would fill him while he was still in his mother’s womb, and ever after he would remain filled with the Spirit. So, it would be appropriate for him to shun products of the vine as soon as he began to take food and drink for himself. As a result, there would never be any danger that he might suffer the competing influences of the Spirit and the wine glass.

We will show later in our discussion the dramatic proof that John was Spirit-filled even before birth, yet we must consider now the startling implications of God’s unique presence in John’s life. How could an unborn child be filled with the Spirit unless he were saved, yet how could a child devoid of language and knowledge of the world exercise true repentance and faith? The answer is that he could not. Like all of us, John did not turn to God for salvation until he was old enough to understand the gospel. Yet his inability as an unborn child to make the necessary decision did not prevent the Holy Spirit from being his guide and teacher until he was ready.

Likewise in each of our lives, the Holy Spirit is at work long before we come to salvation. Theologians have a name for this working. They call it prevenient grace. The Holy Spirit prepares us for the gospel by managing our experience to protect us from premature death and so preserve a foundation for later service, by teaching us perhaps through hard lessons that a self-centered life is not satisfying, and above all by bringing conviction of sin to our hearts. I am sure that all of us can remember how God moved in our lives before, perhaps long before, we received Christ.

Yet there is a great difference between us and John. Although the Spirit was present in our lives before salvation, He did not fill us. But He filled John, even from his mother’s womb. This filling had two consequences. First, the young child enjoyed a supernatural degree of spiritual wisdom and power, as we will see later in the story. Second, from the beginning he had an unusual desire for the things of God. He was an eager pupil of the Spirit, a willing student who made fast progress. He was not then under divine condemnation because he had not yet passed from the years of innocence to the years of accountability. Although he had an inherited sin nature, as we all do, and although he too committed sin, divine grace working through the Holy Spirit was so mighty on his behalf that he moved as quickly as humanly possible to a saving relationship with God.

Verses 16-17. John’s unusual head start in spirituality was the best training ground for his future calling. It would be his role to summon the nation of Israel to repentance, and many would be transformed through his preaching. His impact would be so powerful that he would resemble the prophets of old, even Elijah, founder of the school of prophets.

The angel pointed out a fundamental similarity between Elijah and John. As John would be, so also was Elijah filled with the Spirit (2 Kings 2:9, 15). The result in Elijah’s case was the power to do great miracles, many of which are recorded in Scripture, such as the one he performed when the widow of Zarephath’s son died. He brought the little boy back to life (1 Kings 17:17-24). In John’s case, the power he exercised would be spiritual in nature, with three notable effects (v. 17). (1) He would "turn the hearts of the fathers to the children." (2) He would turn "the disobedient to the wisdom of the just." (3) He would "make ready a people prepared for the Lord."

Exactly what work was the angel predicting? Or, to speak more precisely, what was Old Testament prophecy predicting, for the angel was quoting the words of Malachi at the end of the Old Testament (Mal. 4:4-6)? The prophet closed God’s long volume of revelation to Israel by pointing to a future coming of Elijah when he would usher in a new day of grace. The reference was primarily to a literal appearance of Elijah at a time still future, during the years of Tribulation before Christ comes in glory to set up an earthly kingdom.

Yet on the authority of Christ, we can affirm that Malachi was also referring to John the Baptist. On the way down from the Mount of Transfiguration, the three disciples who witnessed Jesus’ glorification asked, "Why then say the scribes that Elijah must come first?" (Matt. 17:10). They were puzzled because Jesus had described the Transfiguration as His own coming (Matt. 16:28), yet this coming had apparently not been preceded by any earthly reappearance of Elijah. What the scribes taught concerning Elijah was perfectly correct. As we have seen, Malachi states that Elijah would return to this world just before the dawn of the Messianic kingdom.

Since the question posed by the disciples was based on sound doctrine, Jesus treated it as a reasonable question deserving an answer (Matt.17:11-12). First, He ratified the teaching of the scribes. Elijah will indeed come back to this world in the end time. He will be one of two Old Testament saints that God will raise from the dead and send to the earth as witnesses during the closing phase of the Tribulation (Rev. 11:3–12). We find strong clues in prophecy that the second of these witnesses will be Moses. Together they will summon the whole world to repentance and will call down judgment on their enemies (Rev. 11:3-6), yet their primary task will be to bring religious revival to Israel. Jesus says of Elijah’s future ministry that he will "restore all things."

So far, Jesus’ response to the disciples’ question was straightforward and easy to follow. But next He said something extremely cryptic. He said that Elijah had come already, but the nation failed to recognize him, and instead of treating him respectfully, with teachable hearts, they treated him shamefully, with hearts controlled by wicked impulses run wild, and at last they killed him as they would kill Jesus. But it was evident to the disciples that the actual Old Testament prophet Elijah had not recently visited the earth. What then did Jesus mean? From Jesus’ comment that the nation did "unto him whatsoever they listed," the disciples surmised that Jesus was speaking not of the man Elijah, but of the man John the Baptist (Matt. 17:13). He was saying that Malachi’s vision of Elijah preceding the Messiah had double meaning. It referred not only to Elijah at some future day, but also to the recent ministry of John.

Yet why should Jesus have expected the nation to know that John was Elijah if he was not Elijah? We should not imagine that he was Elijah returning in his own body; in other words, that he was Elijah reincarnated. The religious leaders asked John pointblank if he was Elijah, and he said, no (John 1:21). We surmise that when Jesus identified John as the Elijah who had already come, He did not mean that John was the same man. Rather, He was a second Elijah.

After all, the name Elijah suited him perfectly, for three reasons.

1. The name itself was appropriate. Elijah means "My God is Jehovah," or, "Jehovah is God."⁸ The name therefore defines the ministry of every prophet. The starting point is to declare that he stands as God’s representative. He must affirm his authority by stating, in essence, "My God is Jehovah"—in other words, "I serve the true God." Then he must call upon the people to give God His due by accepting His claim upon their lives. Toward this end he must summarize his message by stating, in essence, "Jehovah is God"—in other words, the God I speak for has all the powers and prerogatives of an Almighty Being who is sovereign over the world of men as well as the whole universe. You must obey Him. Since the name Elijah captured John’s message, Jesus chose to confer it on John, making him the namesake of his ancient predecessor. Remember that Jesus appears to have renamed several disciples. His purpose was to give them names expressing their character or their contribution to the work of God. He changed Simon to Peter (John 1:42), which means "stone."⁹ Possibly by Jesus' choice, Levi became known as Matthew (Luke 5:27; 6:15), which means "gift of God."¹⁰ After entering ministry, Saul became Paul (Acts 9:4; 13:13), which means "little one."¹¹ Jesus gave the sons of Zebedee the surname Boanerges, which means "sons of thunder" (Mark 3:17). Have you ever wondered what name Jesus might choose for you? In fact, He will someday give each of us a new name (Rev. 2:17).
2. The second reason that the name Elijah suited John is this. As the angel said, John came "in the spirit and power of Elijah" (Luke 1:17).
3. Thirdly, he would have a ministry parallel to the future ministry of Elijah during the Tribulation.

So, in God's plan there would be two comings of Christ, each preceded by the ministry of a prophet that Scripture identifies as Elijah. Why should the Jewish nation have recognized John as the first of these prophets? His identity should have been obvious by what he accomplished. He fulfilled all the work that Malachi attributed to Christ’s forerunner.

His primary impact in fulfillment of Malachi's prophecy was foreseen by Gabriel when he announced John’s birth to Zacharias. The angel said that John would "go before him in the spirit and power of Elias, to turn the hearts of the fathers to the children" (v. 17). The wording here is the opposite of what we might expect. We might think that the more critical need is always to turn the hearts of the children to the fathers. Yet the original prophecy of Malachi actually foresees both benefits proceeding from John's ministry. Not only would the older generation move with hearts of compassion toward the younger, but also the younger with hearts of love and respect toward the older, for he says that Elijah would turn "the heart of children to their fathers" (Mal. 4:6). The same balance appears in the angel’s message when he tells the second effect of John’s ministry. John would turn "the disobedient to the wisdom of the just." This should probably be understood as a paraphrase of Malachi’s prediction that children would turn to their fathers, for our first reaction to the angel’s message was well founded. Indeed, revival of a wayward society mainly requires younger people to stop rebelling against their godly heritage.

We see therefore the larger significance of Malachi’s prophecy. He gives us a synopsis of all issues contributing to the spiritual decline of a nation. It always arises from a widening gap between tradition and practice. The older generation continues to walk down many ways that set duty above pleasure, while the younger generation is drifting into new ways promising more fun as the benefit of more freedom. In time, the nation becomes wholly pagan except for a thin veneer of religion. Then God, desirous of a spiritual harvest, may send revival and build a new generation devoted to higher things than pursuit of selfish dreams.

In history we find many nations and societies that go through spiritual cycles, such as we find in the Book of Judges. After Joshua died, the nation quickly forsook the Lord and worshipped the idols of the surrounding nations. As a result, they lost God's favor and protection and fell into many troubles. Then the Lord in mercy raised up a judge to deliver them, and for a while under his leadership they sought a right relationship with the Lord. But as soon as this judge was dead, they reverted to their old ungodly ways (Judg. 2:8, 10, 12, 14, 16, 19).

When we study the full history of Israel and the church, we find that the cycle of apostasy and revival is often completed in three generations, although the exact number may vary greatly within individual families. The first generation is the one renewed by a work of God, bringing them back to faithful attention to God’s Word and God’s will. That generation seeks to pass on its spirituality to the next, and it normally succeeds to the extent of producing offspring who remain religious, yet they may slide into a kind of religion that is more external than internal. The third generation is the one that forsakes the religion of their fathers and explores all the pathways of sin, creating a need for God to send revival again to the fourth generation, which is receptive to God’s wooing because it has seen its parents reap the disastrous outcomes of a godless life. The pattern we are describing has had many departures in detail, of course, but it is still clearly visible.

We have gone off the main track somewhat, so let us return to the angel’s prophecy concerning John’s appointed role in God’s redemptive plan. We have looked at the first two spiritual effects of his ministry: that he would "turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the just" (Luke 1:16-17). Was the prophecy fulfilled? Yes, John was a mighty figure in his day. Multitudes went to hear him preach in the wilderness, and many responded to his message by repenting of their sins and receiving the baptism of repentance (Luke 3:2-14). His ministry was especially well-received by the lower classes (Matt. 21:31–32). The common people wondered whether he was the Messiah (Luke 3:15), and the antagonistic religious leaders wondered whether he claimed to be the Messiah (John 1:19), but he answered both questions with denial, and he identified the Messiah as another man who would come after him (Luke 3:16-18; John 1:20, 26-27). Even the reigning king over the region, Herod the tetrarch, knew about John. Perhaps he summoned John to hear him preach, for in some manner he received the prophet’s rebuke for entering into an incestuous marriage and for other evil deeds. Viewing John as a man whose opposition could not be ignored without jeopardizing his own political security, the king threw John into prison (Luke 3:19-20). Yet he feared John and kept him alive lest he offend John’s God (Mark 6:19-20) and later beheaded him only at the instigation of his wife (Mark 6:21-28).

According to Gabriel, the third effect of John’s ministry is that he would "make ready a people prepared for the Lord" (Luke 1:17). Indeed, just as Malachi predicted, John not only brought revival to his nation, but also the revival served as preparation for the Lord's coming. Here also the angel is paraphrasing Malachi's prophecy. Malachi said, "Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord: And he shall turn the heart of the fathers to the children, and the heart of the children to their fathers, lest I come and smite the earth with a curse" (Mal. 4:5–6). The angel evidently viewed the Lord's coming as the same as the day of the Lord. The term "day" suggests to our mind’s eye a sudden shining of light. It is an appropriate figure for the coming of Jesus, for He came as the light of the world, and He Himself spoke of His time here as a day preceding the night that would descend after His departure (John 9:4-5). Yet this interpretation raises an obvious question. Malachi speaks of the day as great and dreadful. We know that Elijah's future return to prepare the world for Christ's second coming will be accompanied and followed by terrible judgments on an unbelieving world. But we do not think of John’s ministry as the prelude to some awful outpouring of judgment from the Lord’s hand. Or was it? Yes, it was, in two ways.

1. The day of Jesus’ first visitation to this world was great and dreadful in a sense different from the final day of wrath and judgment, for the victim was the light-bearer Himself, when He died on a cross. He absorbed the full punishment for all the sins of mankind, a tragic experience beyond our conception. At His Second Coming in glory to begin His reign on the earth, it will be a day great and dreadful not for Himself, but for all His enemies.
2. It was not long after John’s ministry that the nation underwent a catastrophe that can only be described as great and dreadful. Within forty years after rejecting Christ, the Jews rebelled against Rome, and the Romans responded by crushing their nation with ruthless ferocity. In A.D. 70, Jerusalem was leveled to the ground, and nearly all the Jews in Palestine either died or were sent as slaves to foreign lands.

Yet John’s role was not primarily to warn of God’s impending wrath on the nation. He did refer to it (Matt. 3:9-10). But the main burden of his message was to redirect the nation’s gaze to the glorious person on the horizon of history, the One standing there in the cloak of humility but with the splendor of deity. In other words, John was chiefly the forerunner of Christ.

When the self-serving and bigoted religious leaders demanded to know who John was, he answered by pointing to prophecy: not Malachi’s, but another speaking of John in particular (John 1:23, quoting Isa. 40:3). John was the voice crying in the wilderness, for he was a prophet of strong voice proclaiming truth in the place he chose as his home, which was the wilderness of Judea (Matt. 3:1). And his message was to call his hearers to repentance so that the Messiah’s advent might take the nation along a smooth, unimpeded road to spiritual prosperity.

When Gabriel stressed that John would "made ready a people prepared for the Lord" (Luke 1:17), the person he intended by the title Lord was the second person of the Trinity, who would appear among men as the man Jesus of Nazareth. John would complete his task in two ways: as we have seen, by spurring revival among the masses as a whole; yet also in a second way, by drawing disciples to himself who would later become followers of Jesus. Both John and Andrew started off in their lives of godly service as disciples of John (John 1:35-40); possibly Peter also, because he joined Christ on the same day that John pointed to Him as the Messiah (vv. 41–42). Possibly two more were Philip and Nathanael, for they joined Jesus on the next day (vv. 43-5). So as many as five of Jesus' disciples started off as disciples of John. It was through John’s recommendation that they turned to Jesus as their new spiritual leader.

Verses 18-20. The angel Gabriel standing on the right side of the altar of incense within the Holy Place of the Temple has now finished the message that God sent for the priest Zacharias, who came into the Temple to perform a priestly duty. The aged servant of God has learned that God intends to grant his fervent lifelong prayer for a child, and that this child will be a son who brings great honor and joy to his family. It is wonderful news coming as a complete surprise. For Zacharias as well as for his wife, there was probably no earthly gift from God that they preferred to receive. We might think that Zacharias’s response was surely to leap and shout with a delight impossible to restrain. Surely, he must have praised God from a heart overflowing with gratitude. Surely, he must have thanked Gabriel himself for being the bearer of such glad tidings.

But as we read the account, his actual response to the news leaves us bewildered (v. 18). We see no hint of joy, no suggestion that he appreciates the blessing that will soon come into his life. Rather, he said in essence that the angel’s promise was hard to believe, because he and his wife had reached such an advanced age that to bring a child into the world was, in the natural course of things, impossible. He therefore was reluctant to accept the message as true unless the angel offered him proof. "Whereby shall I know this?" he said.

This is the same Zacharias whose life had always displayed outstanding godliness (v. 6). The priest who heard Gabriel’s promise was therefore a man of deep faith. Why then did he react in unbelief? Perhaps three factors affected his thinking.

1. Perhaps some recent development had clouded his mind with a heightened sense that he and his wife were slipping into old age. Perhaps on the day he went into the Temple he was suffering from a bad flare-up of rheumatism, or from some noticeable worsening of his vision. Perhaps changes in his wife left him unable to see her as a mother, for he called her "well stricken in years." The lesson for us is that holy living does not necessarily free us from limiting God. We believe in the miracles that God did in the past, but we do not easily give him credit for equal power in the present. We find it hard to imagine the patterns of everyday life being interrupted by anything truly supernatural, anything truly impossible except by God’s hand. Whatever faith we have may be largely theoretical. But we must be sure that it is concrete enough to believe that God can do mighty works right now in our midst. We must not let our faith be clouded by present difficulties or circumstances. We must remember that with God, all things are possible (Mark 10:27).
2. If we do a little reading between the lines, Zacharias’s words sound almost like weariness, almost as if he feels that he and his wife are not only too old, but also too tired, for the responsibility God intends to lay upon them. Certainly there would be a note of weariness in my words if I ever protested God’s calling in my life by saying that I am an old man. So, we suspect that Zacharias was saying to God, "God, the blessing is coming too late. You should have given it sooner, when we had enough life and vigor to enjoy it more and to use it more fully on your behalf." The lesson for us, especially those of us in the same age bracket as Zacharias and Elisabeth, is that we dare not grow weary in the work of the Lord (Gal. 6:9-10). Just when we feel that our life of ministry is approaching an end, God may have another assignment for us that we never envisioned, something that may seem beyond the reach of our remaining physical and mental powers. So let us never close out new possibilities of service. Let us stay busy in God’s work until our resources are truly exhausted—not just until we feel they are exhausted. And let us not lack faith concerning what God can still accomplish through us. Where God calls, He also enables. He can raise even the feeble to fighting strength. He can transform plodding turtles into soaring eagles (Isa. 40:31).
3. In Gabriel’s answer to Zacharias, we detect another possible reason for the priest’s doubting mind. Zacharias had asked the angel to show why he should believe the promise. The angel graciously complied by certifying it in two ways: first, by identifying himself as a credible source; second, by affirming that his motive was benign (v. 19). He was none other than Gabriel, whose usual place is to stand in the presence of God, although God had now sent him on an errand to this world, so that he might inform Zacharias of the child who would be born. The message proceeded from no malicious purpose, but rather was meant to be received as glad tidings.

Gabriel’s effort to prove his exalted position and loving purpose suggests that maybe Zacharias was doubtful whether he was seeing a heavenly being or a demonic being. After all, as a godly man, he undoubtedly had an acute awareness of his obligation to test the spirits (1 John 4:1). He knew he must guard himself from spiritual deception. Yet on this occasion, if he was indeed questioning what kind of being appeared to him, God was not happy with his suspicion. It was what Scripture calls "evil surmising" (1 Tim. 6:4). After all, Zacharias was standing in the Temple itself, in God’s dwelling place on the earth. To suppose that an evil angel could gain access to the Temple would have greatly exaggerated Satan’s power and, thus, belittled the power of God. So, any doubt of this kind was not seemly.

The lesson for us is that we too should not imagine Satan to be greater than he is. Yes, we should not minimize his power, but we should never lapse into what is known in philosophy as dualism, the belief that the universe is divided into two roughly equivalent factions known as good and evil. Many philosophies today, such as those emerging from the New Age Movement, are dualistic. Movies like Star Wars and other products of the popular media suppose that the prime mover behind all reality is a force with both a good side and a bad side. The real universe, however, has only one prime mover, an all-powerful and all-wise God of love. Evil has no ultimate weight whatever. Let us not be afraid of Satan or his works. Whatever mischief he can do is by divine permission for carefully designed purposes serving our good (Rom. 8:28). Yes, he is God’s enemy, but the war is over. He never had a chance, and now he is defeated (1 John 3:8).

It is interesting how Gabriel disclosed his identity. In three ways he impressed upon Zacharias that he was someone who deserved the priest’s confidence.

1. He gave his name as Gabriel. As a speaker of Hebrew, Zacharias knew that the name means either "the mighty one of God" or "God, the mighty One."¹² The latter is no doubt the correct reading, for, in naming the angels, God most likely avoided lifting them up. To help them escape the snare of pride that caught Lucifer, He would, in their very names, have reminded them of the vast gulf between themselves and their Creator. The name of Michael, another chief angel, means, "who is of God," or, "Who is like God?"¹³ Zacharias surely understood that any creature whose name paid tribute to God could only be God’s servant.
2. Gabriel claimed to stand in God’s presence. Indeed, the phrase "that stands in the presence of God" appears to be an official title. We find it again in Revelation 8:2: "And I saw the seven angels which stood before God." In its reference to "the" seven angels, the translation is exactly correct.¹⁴ The use of the definite article strongly implies that there are only seven angels with this distinct privilege. The text in Revelation is the primary basis of the idea prevalent in the church since ancient times that Gabriel is one of the seven chief angels. As a group they are generally known as the archangels, although Scripture gives this title only to Michael (Jude 9). Yet others may bear it as well. Although the archangel mentioned in 1 Thessalonians 4:16 is not named, Gabriel has often been God’s instrument for announcing His great works. We therefore suspect that it is also Gabriel who will come to announce the arrival of that long-awaited glorious moment when Christ gathers His saints from the living and from the dead. How would Zacharias have understood Gabriel’s claim to stand before God? The idea of seven chief angels precedes the New Testament. It appears in Jewish literature from the intertestamental period (that is, the three centuries before Christ).¹⁵ So, it is likely that Zacharias would have taken Gabriel’s words as a claim that he was one of the seven; in other words, that he was one of the most important champions on the side of truth.
3. Gabriel was a name Zacharias certainly recognized from his study of the Scriptures. Gabriel had also appeared at least twice to Daniel, once to show where the Antichrist would arise (Dan. 8:9, 16-17) and once to unveil God’s plan of seventy future weeks, sixty-nine before the first coming of Christ, the seventieth before His second coming (Dan. 9:21-27). From Gabriel’s role in the past, Zacharias surely viewed him in the same way as did other Jews of his time—as a high-ranking angel with the special office of divine messenger. So, the angel’s declaration that he was the Gabriel of the Old Testament was another measure designed to assure the priest that his words could be trusted.

Yet Zacharias was slow to believe the angel’s message, and his doubting heart was displeasing to the Lord. When the priest asked for a reason to believe the promise of a son, he was probably seeking a supernatural sign, perhaps thinking that to seek a sign was authorized by Biblical precedent.

For example, when God appointed Gideon to deliver Israel from the Midianites, Gideon balked, because in humility he could not see himself as equal to the task. For assurance that the appointment was coming from God Himself, he asked the angel speaking with him to furnish a sign. This angel, who was God manifesting Himself as the angel of the Lord, stretched out the staff in His hand and kindled a fire in Gideon’s offering so that it was instantly consumed (Judg. 6:17, 20-1). Then later Gideon proposed another sign. After laying out a fleece overnight, he wanted to go out the next morning to find it covered with dew even though the ground around it remained dry, and God made it happen (Judg. 6:36-8). Still unsatisfied, Gideon asked for a third sign. After leaving out the fleece another night, he wanted to find the fleece dry and the ground wet, and that is what he found (Judg. 6:39-40).

Another Old Testament figure granted a sign to confirm a promise of God was the righteous king Hezekiah (Isa. 38:1-2, 4-8). When he developed a severe illness, the prophet Isaiah came to him as God's mouthpiece and announced that he was soon going to die. Later, the king wept bitterly as he prayed and pleaded that God would spare his life. Then Isaiah returned and said that the Lord had heard the king's prayers. He would recover from his sickness and live another fifteen years. The sign confirming the promise was one of the most dramatic miracles recorded in Scripture. God caused the shadow on the sundial to go backward and then return. In other words, the rotation of the earth slowed down to a halt and reversed direction not only once, but twice. To accomplish this feat in a way preventing the earth’s inhabitants from perceiving any change in angular momentum would have required at least a full hour.

If God was willing to give signs to Gideon and Hezekiah and others we could name, why did He hold Zacharias guilty of unbelief when he requested a sign?

In Hezekiah’s case we should notice that he did not demand a sign as a precondition for believing God. God simply granted him a sign, no doubt because the king was in great distress at the thought of dying, and he needed immediate and strong comfort. The sign was God’s merciful remedy for his state of deep sorrow.

There was also a pronounced difference between Zacharias and Gideon. Gideon was a young man whose life had probably been devoid of the privilege to see or read any portion of the Scriptures. His fellow townspeople, including his own father and others in his own household, had adopted pagan religion (Judg. 6:25-27). With so little foundation for faith either in his own experience or in knowledge of God's Word, God in mercy was therefore willing to grant him signs. But Zacharias was a professional priest well grounded in the Scriptures and in a life of faith. He had no excuse for unbelief.

Again we can draw a lesson. It is not a good strategy to hold God’s promises at arm’s length, refusing to receive them, until we see them confirmed by a sign. You say, I have never asked God for a sign. Really? I must confess that sometimes after reading how God will deliver and protect us, I have responded by saying to God, "Today will you give me some special encouragement as a token that this is true?" I am really seeking a sign. I should be willing to believe the promise and wait for its fulfillment, although I must say that God is often kinder than I deserve by giving me the encouragement I have sought.

Notice that God in fact granted Zacharias a sign to verify the promise. What was it? Gabriel announced that because Zacharias balked at believing the angel’s words, he would be made unable to speak until the child was born. Not only did he become dumb, but apparently he became deaf also, for at a time months later, after the child was born, his friends and family communicated with him by making hand signs (Luke 1:62).

What befell the aged priest was clearly a form of chastening, for his impairment must have been very inconvenient and unpleasant, yet it was not actually painful. Even in the affliction that God laid upon him, we see the hand of a loving heavenly Father. God’s kindness was evident in five ways.

1. The dumbness was a stroke of the supernatural. It was therefore a dramatic answer to Zacharias’s request for a sign. Only God could instantly take away his speech and instantly restore it at a later time. So, the dumbness served to confirm that the angel’s entire message came from God.
2. Zacharias had offended God by what he said. Therefore, to be deprived of speech assured that Zacharias would not sin again in the same way. If after leaving the Temple, he still had any doubt in his heart that he had received an authentic message from God, he would be unable to express his unbelief to anyone else. His mouth would be shut. God was protecting His aged servant from incurring more of His displeasure. As we will discover in our further study of Luke’s account, Zacharias’s speech was restored only when he was willing to open his mouth in praise for the wonderful gift that God had granted him.
3. God could have laid a much worse punishment on Zacharias, for unbelief is always a terrible sin. Yet the worst that happened to him was that he was denied the gift of verbal communication.
4. The time limit that God set on his inability to speak was another token of affection. It was a judgment as brief as it was mild.
5. Moreover, to prevent Zacharias from agonizing with worry that his loss of speech would be permanent, the angel told him that it would be brief. Right from the start, Zacharias knew that his handicap was temporary.

The lesson for us is that God never deals with His children as they deserve. The chastening He brings upon us may be painful for a season (Heb. 12:5-11), but the strokes He lays upon us are never more than needed to win our obedience, and always they are tempered by His love and mercy.

Verses 21-22. Meanwhile, as Zacharias was speaking with the angel, the people outside were waiting for him to emerge again after performing his duties. Normally, the priest who went inside to offer incense was not slow in returning. He did not have a complicated, time-consuming task. All he had to do was lay incense on the altar and wait until it caught fire. Then he retreated. But on this occasion, the priest lingered so long that the people outside began to wonder and marvel at the delay. What had happened to Zacharias? Since he was an old man, they probably feared that he was taken by a sudden seizure, perhaps even that he had dropped dead.

Why in fact did he not come out sooner? The recorded conversation between him and Gabriel could not have lasted more than a few minutes. We may speculate that the encounter left Zacharias in something of a daze. The glorious sight, the astounding promise, and the stern rebuke were enough to leave his mind in confusion and his emotions in turmoil. We might suppose that it took some time before his thoughts settled down and he regained his composure. But then he faced an embarrassing problem. He could not go out and speak to the people. His role required him to say some words appropriate to the solemn ceremony he had just conducted, perhaps the benediction that the Lord directed the priests to say on special occasions (Num. 6:23-26). If he remained totally silent afterward, he would leave everyone bewildered and make himself the center of attention. Thus, he may have stayed inside for a while as he wrestled with the question of what to do when he emerged. Also, it is likely that for some time he knelt down and prayed, begging to be forgiven for his unbelief and to be spared from the punishment, and that he remained in this humble posture until his heart was confident of God's answer. Yes, he would be forgiven, but no, he would suffer loss of speech.

His decision concerning how he would conduct himself before the people was the right one. When he came out of the Temple, he made gestures and hand signals to tell the people what happened. They quickly gathered that he was speechless because of a vision he had seen inside. We deduce from the account that he gave them no further information, divulging either the messenger or the message. Remember, the angel's message was essentially an announcement that the Messiah would soon appear, but Zacharias did not feel that it was his place to relay this announcement to the whole nation. His son would do that. What he said was all that the situation required, and he did not displease the Lord by expressing any doubt that the vision came from God.

Verses 23-25. When the priestly course of Abijah was done with its term of service in the Temple, Zacharias was free to return home. If he stayed in Jerusalem only as long as his duties required, he left about a week after he arrived. He went away with a heart perhaps torn by contrary feelings. On the one hand, an irrepressible delight must have surged within him at the thought that the angel’s promise must be true—that he and Elisabeth would indeed have the child they so dearly wanted. Yet at the same time, he could not avoid a certain sense of shame, as he remembered his own unbelief provoking the angel’s rebuke, and as he faced the necessity of telling everyone about his sin.

How in fact could he tell them if he was speechless? We learn from the account of events later that both he and his wife were literate (Luke 1:60-63). They communicated by writing messages on a tablet. Otherwise, she could not have known that the right name for the child was John. Her ability to read and write was likely one privilege of being a priest’s daughter.

So, we may imagine that when Zacharias arrived home, he sat down with Elisabeth and wrote out a summary of all that happened. However ambivalent he may have felt about his encounter in the Temple, we can imagine that Elisabeth had only one reaction: pure, soul-thrilling joy, for now she would be a mother after all. It was not too late to see the desire of her heart.

The couple then settled down to normal routines and waited for the miracle. We do not know long God tested their faith, but considering their advanced years, He probably did not subject them to much delay. Doubtless within a short time, Elisabeth became pregnant. Some chronologists have tried to set dates on the assumption that the miracle was immediate, but Scripture does not disallow the possibility of some brief delay, perhaps intended to test their faith. But as soon as she knew that she indeed bore a child, her heart overflowed with gratitude to God (v. 25). Notice that she acknowledged the child as a work of God. Unlike her husband’s first response to the angel, she did not belittle God’s power. Notice also that she saw the gift as a special blessing to herself, taking away all the shame of being childless. So, her praise was not worship of a formal kind, recognizing how great God is in general, but rather it was worship based on personal experience, leading her say how much she loved God and how much she thanked Him for a wonderful gift that she dearly needed and desired.

Why she hid herself five months is a mystery, for her behavior does not seem to reflect Jewish custom. It was evidently the first five months, because the text goes on to say that in the sixth month (Luke 1:36), Mary became pregnant and went to see Elizabeth, who was still three months from delivery (vv. 36, 56). Most of the classic books written on the life of Christ and most commentaries on the Gospel of Luke avoid the question. What was the need or purpose in hiding herself when the pregnancy was not yet obvious, especially when she did not hide herself during the last three months? Maybe everyone in her little community knew of the message to Zacharias, and she wanted to escape constant attention and questioning arising from curiosity about her condition. She came out from hiding only when people could see that the message was true. Another possibility was raised by the great commentator Matthew Henry. He suggested that because John was appointed by God to be a lifelong Nazirite, she felt obliged to protect him from any violations of its rules even before he was born. Staying in hiding made it less likely that she would, for example, accidentally touch a dead body.¹⁶ But why then did she cease hiding herself during the final period of pregnancy? Yet another possibility is that it was easier for her to deal with morning sickness and the other physical trials of pregnancy when she kept out of the public eye. But again, why did she leave hiding after six months? John Fleetwood suggested that she chose many months of seclusion so that she could develop a closer walk with the Lord, partly an expression of her gratitude for His gift of a child.¹⁷ No doubt she understood that by raising her own spiritual stature, she would be better prepared to raise a son that God had appointed to be a spiritual giant. Ultimately, though, we have no certain explanation for her decision to hide herself. It remains something of a mystery. Yet such a mystery is strong evidence that what Luke gives us is a true account. Why? Because it is faithful to the complexity of real life. It is not just a nice story invented to promote some religious agenda.

If Elizabeth indeed went through hard struggles during early pregnancy, the Lord was compassionate. He did not blame her if she found pregnancy a hard burden to bear. On the contrary, He was undoubtedly pleased because she not only accepted the trials of motherhood, but also praised Him for the opportunity.

Application

The picture I presented of the spiritual decline that is often seen in the children of godly parents would be greatly discouraging if it were the whole truth. But it is not. Such decline is not inevitable, although it often happens. Why does it happen? Because most Christian parents fail to rear their children according to divine direction. It is sadly true that we are prone to take our ideas of correct parenting not from Scripture or Christian experience or godly advice, but from the example of our own parents or from social norms. As a result of these worldly influences, Christian parents may neglect the true requirements for success in childrearing.

One of these requirements is that a father must fulfill the role that God intended for him. He is, after all, the parent most critical for implanting in his children a real heart for God (Eph. 6:4). But instead he may let his wife handle the children, and she in her nurturing role may to be too permissive and weak. Children need a father who treats his parental role as a priority. With God's help, a woman without a husband or with a weak husband can still give her children good parenting, but it will be a tough challenge to meet.

By good fathering, I do not mean leadership that is severe and overbearing. No, look again at Paul’s instruction (Eph. 6:4). The right fathering is indeed strong and directive, but it is also warm and reasonable and by no means abusive, provoking wrath. Above all, it is loving without being permissive. It sets a high standard of spirituality and enforces it in a manner appropriate to the child’s level of maturity.

We see now why, as Malachi affirmed, true revival such as John would bring to the Jewish nation requires not only that the young turn to the old, but also that the old turn to the young (Mal. 4:6). In other words, healing of the generation gap takes effort on both sides. Yes, the young need to come back to the wisdom of their fathers. But also the old must, in compassion for their children, start exercising their parental role more responsibly, according to Scripture. Instead of just scolding children when they do wrong or lamely standing aside and saying nothing, parents must work diligently at building their character.

To succeed takes three investments.

1. It takes an investment of time—time spent in obtaining counsel on all the dimensions of Christian parenting, time spent with the children themselves in family devotions to teach them how to communicate with God, time spent in other family activities that strengthen bonds and make parents more attractive role models, time spent in church and in serving the Lord so that children will see examples of a servant's heart. If you fail to make this investment of time because you are too busy pursuing a career or seeking your own entertainment, your children will someday break your heart.
2. Above all, to succeed takes an investment of love. But the love we are talking about is not the anxious-to-please kind of love that we find in a parent who is insecure about being loved in return. That kind of love always fails, because it is reluctant to make any demands, whereas Scripture says that the right kind of parental love is not afraid to say, no. It accepts that the job description of a parent is to train up a child (Prov. 22:6). Part of their training must be to set and enforce proper expectations. In my own experience, I have never seen a Christian home succeed where the parents, especially the father, readily caved in to a child’s will.
3. It takes an investment of protection. This is a vital ingredient of successful parenting. In a depraved world such as ours, parents must be willing to shield their children from corrupting influences, even if the task requires parents to forego some of their own pleasures, perhaps in the realm of questionable entertainment.

What if your children are already grown up? How can you seek revival by turning your heart toward your children? You must adopt a twofold strategy.

1. You must hold firm to what is right. If your children have gone astray, you must see it as God testing your own faith and convictions. Trying to please wayward children through compromise never works. It is a recipe for failure. They will not halt their own trek away from God just because you agree to go part-way with them. The end result will not be that you will hold them in the fold of divine protection. Rather, you will follow them out to the wilderness of wolves that devour the soul. You will end up a spiritual casualty. I hate to think how many times I have seen parents led to ruin by their children. The best way to save your kids is never to budge from true faith and godliness. I know this from the experience of my own family. In my years away from the Lord, neither my father while he was still alive nor my mother budged one inch from their Christian beliefs and convictions. They did not engage me in debate, because they knew that they could not argue with me. Instead, they stood conspicuously on the rock of truth so that when I was tired of drifting, I would be able to see where to bring my life to safe moorings.
2. To secure God’s blessing on adult children, you must be faithful in praying for them. Prayer is always the key to divine power. No doubt you do pray for your children, but let my words encourage you to keep on, never flagging in faith that God will hear and answer in His own good time. He may not be able to work, however, unless you do everything in your power to help your children. In what ways can you help? Through kind witness when it is appropriate, through your own example of faithful devotion to God, and through making sacrifices on their behalf to demonstrate how much you love them.