His Name Is John | Sunday, March 2, 2025

Now Elizabeth's full time came for her to be delivered, and she brought forth a son. When her neighbors and relatives heard how the Lord had shown great mercy to her, they rejoiced with her. So it was, on the eighth day, that they came to circumcise the child; and they would have called him by the name of his father, Zacharias. His mother answered and said, "No; he shall be called John." But they said to her, "There is no one among your relatives who is called by this name." So they made signs to his father—what he would have him called. And he asked for a writing tablet, and wrote, saying, "His name is John." So they all marveled. Immediately his mouth was opened and his tongue loosed, and he spoke, praising God... (Luke 1:57-66)

When God says "His name is John," obedience to Him overrides every tradition, expectation, and plan we carry.

A Window Into Another Culture

I was talking with my wife last night about how startlingly fast time goes by. It reminded me of a mission trip I took more than fifteen years ago to Mozambique in southeastern Africa with Cross Connection Outreach. Let me encourage you to prayerfully consider going on a short-term trip—from experience and observation, it radically transforms your life to go to another culture on behalf of the Lord. It is totally different than a vacation.

My friend Luke Ryder, who ran Cross Connection Outreach for many years, recorded the New Testament in native languages in Mozambique and put them on talking Bible units for villages where most people are illiterate. As we bounced along a dirt road in his truck, he told me about a cultural custom: in many of those villages, parents do not immediately name a child. Often they wait until the first birthday—and sadly, this is tied to the very high levels of infant mortality there.

That is hard for us to wrap our minds around. In our culture, with our technology, we usually know the sex months ahead, rifle through dozens of names, and announce "this is so-and-so" before the baby is even born. But the contrast highlights how vastly different culture is everywhere you go. You often don't realize you have a culture until you go to another country. As a missionary friend of mine says, "You don't realize you have a culture until your culture gets stepped on by another culture." Culture is the water you swim in, the air you breathe—a part of who you are that you don't even recognize.

Why the Eighth Day?

Here in Luke 1 we get a small peek through the window into another culture. For Zacharias and Elizabeth, the name was not announced a year later, but on the eighth day. Why? With so many of these questions, the answer is found in Genesis.

In Genesis 12, God called Abram to follow Him by faith. Abraham left everything common and normal—his family, his tradition—and followed God to the land of Canaan. In Genesis 15, God established a covenant with him, with promises God made and obligations He required. In Genesis 17, that covenant was reaffirmed, and God added a new sign: circumcision.

In one respect we understand a covenant and its symbol. If you're married, you have a covenant with your spouse and a symbol that identifies you with it—a wedding ring on your left ring finger. The ring is not the covenant, but it tells others you are part of it. So the descendants of Abraham had an external sign that they were attached to God in a covenant relationship.

Years later, Abraham finally had the child of the promise—Isaac. In Genesis 21, at the naming of the child, joined to the eighth day, these two things came together: the public announcement of the name and entering into the covenant. From that point forward in Israel's history, this became the cultural tradition—the way they assigned the name and identified themselves as the people of God. Even today, faithful Jewish families hold a bris on the eighth day, exactly as in Genesis 21.

Cultural things can seem weird, but they are always important. Having traveled all over the world, I can tell you there are strange customs everywhere—and I guarantee we do things here we can't even explain that seem rather weird to visitors. But those things set a people apart; they are distinct, significant, and valuable.

"His Name Is John"

On the eighth day they came to circumcise the child, and they would have called him by his father's name, Zacharias. Zacharias was a priest, of the tribe of Levi, the priestly tribe. Have you ever met someone with the last name Cohen? Generally, those families can trace their lineage back to the tribe of Levi. So a name connected you not just to a tribe and family, but to a path and plan for life. If you were a Jewish person and met a man named Zacharias of the tribe of Levi, you would know a great deal about him instantly.

So they brought this son to be circumcised, and they asked his name. Normally Zacharias would speak, but he had been mute the entire pregnancy. Elizabeth spoke up: "We're going to call him John." They objected—that's not a name among your relatives. The name John, even in its original form, is uncommon; you barely find it in the Old Testament, and it certainly isn't connected to the priesthood. So the family said, "That's not how we do things." All of us have experienced that moment when someone says, "Time out—that's not how we do things."

They needed to talk to Zacharias, but he couldn't talk. So he called for a tablet—a good old iPad—and wrote, "His name is John."

Obedience Overrides Tradition

This fascinating exchange teaches an important biblical principle: obedience to God overrides tradition and culture. Let that sit for a moment. As I went back through my notes this morning, I thought it may be that God brought you here today just to hear that.

Jesus teaches this in Mark 7, speaking with the Pharisees, who put tradition on the same level as Scripture—and Jesus exposes that they had actually put tradition above Scripture:

All too well you reject the commandment of God, that you may keep your tradition... making the word of God of no effect through your tradition which you have handed down. And many such things you do. (Mark 7:9, 13)

This focuses on the question of authority. Every one of us comes from a culture and family of origin. If you come from a more traditional, collectivist culture, you highly value the authority of tradition, family, and ancestry. American culture, at least in the 21st century, highly values individual autonomy and personal authority. These are significantly in conflict.

I'm making no judgment as to which is better—both have good things and bad things. But we should recognize they are different. And when you become a Christian, both the traditional view and the individual view need to be filtered through the biblical view. The conservative impulse says, "Conserve the traditions"; the liberal impulse says, "Individual autonomy and personal expression." These are in conflict in us as well, and we must evaluate them in the light of Scripture. Acts 5:29 says, "We ought to obey God rather than man."

Who Is Lord?

Following God's will outweighs sticking to family customs; sometimes God's command takes priority over cultural habits. But this requires us to evaluate our customs in light of what God has revealed—which means we need to know what's in the Bible. Do you know the Scriptures? Gather together to receive the teaching, but individually get to know the Bible throughout the week.

As you do, you begin to re-evaluate what is the established authority in your life. What sits in your life that has rule, or that we might call Lord? For some, culture is Lord. For some, family is Lord. For some, tradition is Lord—that was the Pharisees. In American culture, you are Lord—the captain of your own ship, the master of your destiny. We idealize the individual entrepreneur who pulled himself up by his own bootstraps. So you must evaluate: is culture Lord, is family Lord, are you Lord—or is Jesus Lord?

Point number two: if Jesus is Lord, then we submit to His rule and way. That is not always easy, because we are confronted by cultural expectations. American culture in 2025 says you must go to college, identify a high-value degree, take certain internships, climb the corporate ladder. Maybe those aren't necessarily bad, but they're the values you're told you need if you want to be successful.

I had a perfect illustration last night at ten o'clock. I was lying in bed and got a text from my fifteen-year-old daughter, who is twelve feet away on the other side of a wall: "Dad, I've got to find some extracurriculars to join if I actually want to get into a good college, but I don't know what kind there are. I've got to be a more interesting person—right now I'm too boring for any college to want to accept me." Tell me culture is not powerful. I told her, "Love, you're going to be just fine; you shouldn't be stressing about this at ten o'clock on a Saturday night."

Family Pressures and Internal Conflicts

We're also challenged by family pressures—often unstated and nonverbal. I was listening to an interview with Bill Gates this week, and he said his mother had very high expectations. After guests left, she would remark how disappointed certain parents must be that their child didn't go to a good college. Gates said, "That's the way score is kept." Later he told his mom, "You told me to go to Harvard," and she said, "No, I didn't, did I?"—and she was right. She never explicitly said it, but she got it across very effectively.

It's not only family or culture; it may be internal to us. We are conflicted by our own measures of desire and calling. In high school I didn't aspire to be a pastor—I wanted to be a pyrotechnician. I wrote to one in eighth grade, and he told me to focus on chemistry. I took chemistry my sophomore year and discovered I would never be a pyrotechnician. But somewhere along the line that shifted, because becoming a Christian adjusts your priorities. It's a lordship issue.

Becoming a Christian is not just adopting faith in Jesus as Savior; it involves submission and surrender to Him as Lord. Christianity isn't a casual belief—it's a life-altering commitment. This is why, when a secularly minded person says religion should be privatized, that's simply not possible for a Christian. It fundamentally changes how you view the world and yourself. You cannot have Jesus as Savior and not as Lord; these are inseparable. Scripture says God has made Him both Lord and Christ.

What John's Life Could Have Been

What this means is that your future might not look like what culture or even you had in mind. That's not to say you'll become a pastor or missionary—God may say, "I want you in this sector as a light," but it will change the way you work within that sector.

Imagine John's life had he followed the family script. His name would have been Zacharias bar Zacharias—son of Zacharias, a priest's son who shall be a priest, of the order of Abijah, relegated to a certain priestly task. If he met the average Jewish person and said, "I'm Zacharias bar Zacharias of the family of Abijah of the Levites," they would say, "I know everything about you." A priest's son, a priest's path.

But God steps in and says, "No, his name is John." Not the family name, not a relative's name, not even a priestly name. He's not going to do the priesthood—he is going to be a prophet, with a different call and a different plan. He's not headed to the temple in Jerusalem; he's headed to the wilderness of Judea.

I wonder if, in his heart, Zacharias had a plan: "If I ever have a son, I'll name him Zacharias and raise him in the priesthood to carry on my legacy." Then the angel said, "You'll name him John." Maybe he wrestled with that the entire pregnancy. But when he wrote "His name is John," those four words were powerful enough to open his mouth.

Zacharias Praises God

Now his father Zacharias was filled with the Holy Spirit, and prophesied, saying: "Blessed is the Lord God of Israel, for He has visited and redeemed His people, and has raised up a horn of salvation for us in the house of His servant David... to perform the mercy promised to our fathers and to remember His holy covenant, the oath which He swore to our father Abraham... And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Highest; for you will go before the face of the Lord to prepare His ways, to give knowledge of salvation to His people by the remission of their sins..." (Luke 1:67-79)

Notice verses 76 and 77: "You, child, will be called the prophet of the Highest... to give knowledge of salvation to His people by the remission of their sins." Following the path of family and culture, John would have been Zacharias bar Zacharias, a priest. Instead, he is John, a prophet of the Most High.

Point number three: yielding to God's lordship means embracing His purpose and plan for our lives—and sometimes not just for our lives, but for the lives of our loved ones. Zacharias had to come to the place where he accepted that God had something different than he had planned. Anybody who has ever come to that place knows it is not an easy step. Maybe it took him the whole pregnancy and those eight days to finally get on board with God's plan.

Point number four: you're never fully at peace until you find your place in God's purpose and plan. Zacharias praised God and found peace when he yielded to what God had for his family and for the son he had waited so long for.

Strong in the Desert

So the child grew and became strong in spirit, and was in the deserts till the day of his manifestation to Israel. (Luke 1:80)

Back in verse 15, Gabriel said John would be filled with the Holy Spirit from birth. Yet verse 80 says the child grew and became strong in spirit. He had the Holy Spirit from birth, but there was something that had to grow and become strong in him. Just because someone has a divine call from conception does not mean they don't need to grow into that purpose.

You don't simply receive the Spirit one day and charge forward the next minute. Very frequently there's a significant time of maturing and preparation. For John it was somewhere around three decades in the desert. For Moses it was forty years in the desert; for David, twenty years running from Saul; for Joseph, twenty-one years in slavery and prison; for Abraham, twenty-five years waiting on God. There's almost always a dry, mundane time of preparation. John was out there until God said, "Now."

Where Are You Right Now?

So where are you right now? Have you surrendered to God's lordship? Maybe you've been charting your own path, or living according to what your family said, or what the culture dictates. Have you said, "God, You are Lord," and recognized His authority to make decisions over your life that might be different than the path you're on? Maybe it stays very much the same; maybe the Lord keeps you where you are to be a light. But maybe it changes.

My favorite passage speaks to this:

Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who works in you both to will and to do for His good pleasure. (Philippians 2:12-13)

God is so gracious in how He leads us—often by changing our desires. In tenth grade I wanted nothing to do with being a pastor; in eleventh grade speech class I decided I would never do public speaking. But God changes our desires, and that shift is often an indication that He is moving.

Let me state it explicitly: God has a purpose and plan for your life that may be different than your culture, your family, or you believe it to be. Whether you're just starting out or in the last quarter of life, you need to hear it. It might be different—and it will be far better. Have you ever asked God, "What do you want me to do?" Maybe you say, "I've wasted a lot of time." Maybe all of that was preparation. I've been a pastor for twenty-six years, the senior pastor of this church for seventeen, and I still think every day, "This must be preparation for something more"—because I still wake up every morning.

Fulfilling Your Purpose

Not everyone acknowledges God's lordship, recognizes His call, and pursues it. You can live your whole life without doing so. I hope you don't, because one of my greatest desires is to hear the Lord say, "Well done, good and faithful servant."

My wife and I were with Jared, Kim, and Layla on Monday for about two and a half hours in the hospital room. As we left, we prayed for Layla. While my wife prayed, I was silently praying, and I thought, "Lord, You ordain for everyone a purpose—like John from birth, like Jeremiah from birth." And I thought, Layla's purpose is done sooner than we would have hoped, but she fulfilled her purpose. I believe that wholeheartedly. Afterward her mom Kim hugged me and said, "Thank you for saying that. I think you're right."

God wants you to fulfill the purpose He's prepared for you. It might be different than you imagined for yourself, your career, or your retirement. But I can promise you this: it will be better.

Closing Prayer

God, I thank You for these passages of Scripture that can become so familiar that I read through them quickly and skip over large sections, thinking, "I've read this a dozen times." But Lord, sometimes there's something there that You want to speak to us, and I think for more than a few today there's something here that You want to speak. You have something bigger and greater. Maybe right now we're stuck in the desert—maybe the desert is a corporate office, a construction site, a classroom, whatever it may be—but it's a time of preparation. Lord, I pray that in the days that seem mundane we would be faithful, seeking You, pursuing You, delighting ourselves in You, knowing that You will give us the desires of our heart, give us new desires, and fulfill those desires, because You work in us to will and to do Your good pleasure as we work out our salvation with fear and trembling. God, would You move in our hearts and help us to see in some way as You see, and recognize Your lordship and authority in our lives. We ask it in Jesus' name. Amen.