John the Baptist’s influence was growing. According to the Fourth Gospel, some of the Jewish leaders went out to the wilderness to quiz him, wanting to know if he was the Messiah, or the reincarnation of Elijah, or the prophet Moses had foretold long ago. John denied being any of these and pointed forward to Jesus instead, without naming him. Still, it’s not surprising that the people themselves had begun to wonder if John was the Messiah (3:15-17).

As Luke begins chapter 3 (vss. 1-3), the spotlight shifts from the boy Jesus to the adult John the Baptist, preaching a message of repentance given to him by God in the wilderness. But before narrative what John said and how people responded, Luke sets up the social and political context. It’s as if to say that the wilderness isn’t just a place on the map.

Luke’s is the only gospel to tell us something of Jesus as a boy. He has one story to tell, framing it with two verses (vss. 40 and 52) which declare in general terms how Jesus grew physically and in wisdom and favor. We’ll examine the story itself (vss. 41-48) more closely in subsequent episodes. Here, we pause to note again the exemplary piety of Joseph and Mary—in anticipation of a story that is eminently relatable for any parent who has ever lost track of a child.

When Joseph and Mary brought Jesus to the Jerusalem temple, they encountered an elderly man named Simeon who scooped up the baby and prophesied over him (2:25-32). Simeon had been waiting a long time for the Messiah, and praised God when he saw the baby Jesus. His song is sometimes known as the Nunc Dimittis—Latin for “now dismiss,” the opening words in his prophetic praise. But one line of the song may have been controversial, for Simeon dared to suggest that the Messiah would bring salvation to the Gentiles.

What we know of the birth of Jesus comes from the two quite different versions of the story we get in Matthew and Luke. Matthew gives us Herod and the magi; Luke gives us Bethlehem and the shepherds. Our Christmas cards and nativity plays try to combine these scenes into one story, and often make assumptions that don’t necessarily fit the text. Contrary to the way we may be used to thinking of the story (cf. Luke 2:6-7), there was probably no inn or innkeeper in Bethlehem, and Jesus wasn’t born in a stable or cave.

As we’ve seen, one of Luke’s purposes in writing his gospel is to show that the Christian faith has ancient roots in the ongoing plan and purpose of God. This theme is reflected in the songs of both Mary and Zechariah, who reach back into the texts and songs of the faith they would have learned from their childhood onward. Here, we take a closer look at Zechariah’s song (1:68-79), exploring some of the ways it connects back to the language and imagery of the Psalms and Prophets. Might such an exploration renew our respect for traditions that have been handed down through the generations?

The birth of the child who would grow up to be John the Baptist may have been the most significant event in Elizabeth’s long life. But Luke barely mentions it, devoting a mere two verses to it (1:57-58) before moving on to what’s more important to him in the scheme of the overall story. In this episode, therefore, we slow things down a bit to ask some of the questions we might wonder about, beginning with: was Mary there when John was born?

In modern storytelling, we generally don’t expect the action to be interrupted for characters to break out in song (except in Disney movies?). It may seem a little strange, therefore, for Mary to respond to Elizabeth by singing aloud (1:46-55). But for her to do so represents an ancient tradition of how God’s people celebrated and remembered the mighty acts of God, as exemplified in the song Moses and the Israelites sang after their escape through the Red Sea.