Behold, God Has Visited Us

Text: Luke 1:68–79

Title: The Dawn from on High Has Visited Us

Big Idea: God has kept his promises by sending a Savior who brings redemption, mercy, light, and peace.

INTRODUCTION (Brief Framing)

The Gospel of Luke opens not with celebration, but with waiting. Not with noise, but with silence. It begins with the promise of the birth of two children. One would be a messenger sent ahead to prepare the way. The other would be the Messiah himself, the long awaited Savior of the world.

At the center of that waiting stands an old priest named Zechariah.

Zechariah and his wife Elizabeth had lived long lives marked by faithfulness and disappointment. They were righteous before God, and they were childless. Year after year they prayed. Year after year the prayers went unanswered. And now they were old. The door they had once hoped would open seemed firmly shut.

Then one day, everything changed.

While serving as a priest, Zechariah was chosen by lot to enter the temple and burn incense before the Lord. This was a once in a lifetime moment. As the incense rose, symbolizing the prayers of the people, Zechariah stood alone in the holy place. The room was quiet. Thick with the smell of incense. Heavy with expectation.

And suddenly, an angel stood before him.

The angel told Zechariah that his prayers had been heard. He and Elizabeth would have a son. His name would be John. He would be filled with the Holy Spirit. He would turn many hearts back to God and prepare the way for the Lord himself. But Zechariah, standing in the presence of a promise he had waited decades to hear, hesitated. He asked how this could be.

And in that moment, the angel Gabriel took away his voice.

Imagine it. The priest who offered prayers for others could no longer speak. The man who had waited years for God to answer would now wait again, this time in silence. For months Zechariah watched Elizabeth’s belly grow. He felt the weight of God’s promise unfolding in front of him. But he could not speak a word. No questions. No explanations. No praise.

Every morning he woke up knowing something God had promised was on the way, and every night he went to sleep unable to tell anyone about it.

Then the child was born.

On the day his son was named, the silence broke. And when Zechariah finally spoke, his first words were not casual. They were not relief. They were not small talk. His mouth opened, and a song poured out.

His song is not sentimental. It is theological. It is the sound of Advent fulfillment breaking into history. It is the moment when long waiting turns into praise. When silence gives way to worship. When the light of God’s promises begins to rise over a dark and weary world.

And that is the song we come to hear this morning.

I. Promise Fulfilled: God Has Visited and Redeemed His People

Verses 68–71

Zechariah begins his song by blessing the Lord, naming him the God of Israel. And even in these opening words, we should picture the entire Old Testament unfolding in our minds. Because the whole story of the Old Testament is the story of restoration. It is the story of God undoing what happened at the fall of man and fulfilling the promise first spoken in Genesis 3:15, that a seed of the woman would come and crush the head of the serpent.

As you move through the Old Testament, you meet patriarch after patriarch, leader after leader, king after king. And every one of them fails. Each points beyond himself to someone greater who must come. Promises are made. A people are chosen. A mission is given. And again and again, waiting is required. The hope of God’s people is always future facing. They are always looking ahead to the one who was foretold.

The prophets were relentless in reminding Israel that a Savior was coming. They spoke of him, longed for him, and called the people to trust God’s promises. And then, suddenly, the voices stopped. For over four hundred years there was silence. No prophet spoke. No word from the Lord was recorded. Heaven seemed quiet.

During that silence, empires rose and fell. Some of the people returned to the land under Cyrus. Then Rome invaded. Israel lived under foreign rule. They were oppressed, weary, and it seemed as though they had been cut off from the promises of God. They were a people desperate for hope, wondering if God had forgotten them.

But Zechariah’s song declares that God had not forgotten.

Zechariah says that the Lord has visited his people. That phrase is not accidental. It is loaded with meaning. It echoes the language of Exodus, when the people of God were crushed under the weight of Egyptian oppression. In Exodus 4, God tells Moses that he has seen the affliction of his people, heard their cries, known their suffering, and come down to deliver them.

That is what it means for God to visit his people.

God knew their condition. God heard their pain. God cared. And God came.

And Zechariah is declaring that the same thing is happening again, only on a far greater scale. God knew our condition. He knew that we were trapped in sin, that our natures were wrapped in darkness. He knew the bondage we were held in, not by chains of iron, but by the chains of our own depravity.

And though God could have remained high and lifted up as judge, he did not. Instead, he came down into our need. He visited his people. He entered our darkness. And he redeemed people who, by every human measure, seemed beyond redemption.

That is the beginning of Advent praise. Not that we found God. But that God came to us.

Zechariah goes on to say that God has raised up for us a horn of salvation in the house of his servant David. That phrase reaches deep into the story of Scripture. David’s offspring stands in the continuing line of the seed of the woman, the promised one who would come to destroy the works of the devil. From the very beginning, God promised that salvation would come through a king, a ruler raised up from among his people.

In Scripture, a horn is a symbol of strength, victory, and kingship. It represents power that cannot be easily broken. When Zechariah speaks of a horn of salvation, he is not describing something fragile or temporary. He is proclaiming that God has raised up a Savior who is strong enough to rescue, powerful enough to defeat sin, and royal enough to reign forever. This horn of salvation is not an abstract idea. It is a person. It is Jesus Christ.

The horn of salvation points us to refuge and deliverance. It tells us that salvation is not found in human effort or religious achievement, but in the strength of the one God has sent. Jesus is the victorious King who brings atonement through his sacrifice and protection through his reign. He is strong where we are weak. He is faithful where we have failed. He is victorious where sin once ruled.

And this is where Advent reshapes how we see Christmas. Advent is not about us finding God. God is not lost, we are.

It is about God coming to us. It is about the eternal King entering into his broken creation to redeem what sin had shattered. When we look at the baby lying in the manger, we should see more than a lowly infant wrapped in swaddling cloths. We should see a King upon a throne. We should see the horn of salvation quietly resting in a feeding trough.

This child did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped. In humility, he entered into our world as a servant. He took on flesh. He stepped into darkness. And he came to redeem sinful people who could not redeem themselves. The manger points forward to the throne, and the quiet beginning points toward a victorious reign that will never end.

This is the same Servant described in the Gospel of John as the Word. He is the eternal Son through whom all things were made. He is the one who spoke through the prophets, announcing his own coming long before he arrived. The voice that promised redemption in the Old Testament is the same voice that cried in the night at Bethlehem.

And his mission was far greater than political deliverance. He did not come merely to free Israel from Roman rule. He came to overthrow a deeper tyranny. He came to rescue his people from the rule of Satan and the bondage of sin. He came to bring true freedom, lasting peace, and eternal life.

What lies in the manger is nothing less than the eternal Word made flesh. The Servant has come. The King has arrived. And redemption has entered the world. If this is who Jesus is, then Advent cannot be sentimental. We do not come to the manger as spectators, but as sinners in need of rescue. The humility of Christ calls us to humility, and the grace of Christ calls us to trust him, not ourselves. Zechariah’s song moves from identity to purpose, from who this Savior is to what God has promised to do through him.

II. God Has Kept Every Promise He Ever Made

Verses 72–75

Salvation does not appear suddenly in Luke’s Gospel as if God changed plans. Zechariah makes it clear that what is happening is the fulfillment of everything God has spoken “by the mouth of his holy prophets from of old.” From the very beginning, God promised that he would act to save. In Genesis 3:15, he promised a seed who would crush the serpent. With Noah, God preserved a people. With Abraham, God promised blessing to the nations. Through Moses, God redeemed his people from bondage. Through David, God promised a king whose throne would last forever. Through the prophets, God kept pointing forward to a coming Savior who would bring justice, forgiveness, and peace.

Every step of the Old Testament story is moving toward this moment. The failures of Israel, the collapse of kings, the exile of the people, and even the long silence between the Testaments do not signal God’s absence. They reveal God’s patience and his faithfulness. What looks like delay is actually divine restraint. God is not hurried, and he is not forgetful. He is working all things according to his perfect will.

It is like watching a tapestry being woven from the underside. All you can see are loose threads, knots, and tangled colors that seem to go nowhere. But the weaver sees the full pattern from above. What looks like chaos below is intentional design above. In the same way, Israel’s history may have looked broken and directionless, but God was weaving every thread toward redemption.

The rise and fall of Israel’s leaders showed that no human king could save. The exile showed that the problem was deeper than geography. And the silence between the prophets taught the people to wait, to long, and to hope for something greater than themselves. Zechariah is declaring that through it all, God has not forgotten a single word he has spoken. Not one promise failed. What God promised in seed form long ago, he has now begun to bring to fulfillment. Salvation unfolds not according to human timelines or expectations, but according to God’s faithful and sovereign purpose.

Zechariah also tells us that this salvation is rooted in God’s covenant mercy, specifically the promise made to Abraham. God promised Abraham that through his offspring all the families of the earth would be blessed. From the very beginning, God’s plan was bigger than one nation and deeper than political freedom. This promise was never limited to land, ethnicity, or power. It was always about redemption.

God was creating a people for himself, not merely to receive his blessing, but to live under his rule and reflect his grace to the world. Through this covenant, God was forming a redeemed people who would know him, worship him, and carry his light to the nations. Zechariah is proclaiming that the birth of this child means that the Abrahamic promise is alive, active, and advancing. God is keeping his word, and through this Savior, the blessing promised long ago is now reaching the ends of the earth.

When Zechariah says that God has “remembered his holy covenant,” he is saying that the birth of this child is proof that God’s covenant has never expired. God has not moved on from Abraham. He has not replaced his promises. He has fulfilled them. The horn of salvation raised up in the house of David is the very offspring through whom the Abrahamic promise comes true. Salvation is arriving not as a reward for Israel’s faithfulness, but as an expression of God’s mercy.

And the result of this covenant faithfulness is freedom. Zechariah says we are delivered so that we might serve God without fear, in holiness and righteousness before him all our days. This is not salvation that leaves us unchanged. This is salvation that restores us to what we were created for: a life of worship, obedience, and joyful trust in the God who keeps every promise he has ever made.

Redemption leads to fearless worship and obedience. For a time, some may think that redemption simply leads to heaven, or even to the joy of seeing loved ones again. And while those are real comforts, they are not the purpose of salvation.

The purpose of salvation is a return to Eden. It is a return to communion with God. It is the restoration of what was lost in the garden, where humanity walked with God, worshiped him, and obeyed him without fear. Salvation is not merely about where we go one day. It is about who we belong to forever.

There are benefits to this new position we gain through salvation. There is comfort. There is reunion. There is glory. But those are not the center. Christ is the center. He alone is our prize. He alone is our joy. He alone is our victory.

So what if the streets are made of gold. So what if the city shines with glory. So what if there is a mansion prepared for us.

If Christ were not there, that place would not be heaven. It would be hell.

Scripture tells us, “Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you.” That is the heart of redemption. Christ himself is the reward.

And this truth must shape how we live now. If Christ is our prize, then we do not worship out of fear, but out of love. We do not obey to earn salvation, but because we have been saved. We do not cling to this world as if it were ultimate, because our joy is already secure in him.

So Advent calls us to examine our hearts. What are we really longing for? Are we longing for comfort, relief, and blessing, or are we longing for Christ himself? Because redemption does not simply promise us a future home. It restores us to present fellowship with our Savior.

He has come near to us. He has redeemed us. He has saved us.

And if we have Christ, we have everything we need.

III. God Has Brought Light and Peace Into Our Darkness

Verses 76–79

Zechariah now turns his attention to his own child, John the Baptist, and he does so with remarkable clarity about John’s role. John is not the center of the story. He is not the light. He is the forerunner. Zechariah says, “And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High, for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways.” John’s entire life would be spent pointing away from himself and toward another. His calling was to prepare hearts, not to redeem them.

John prepares the way by calling people to repentance. He calls Israel to turn back to Yahweh, to confess their sin, and to be baptized as a sign that they are ready for what God is about to do. Zechariah tells us that John would give God’s people “the knowledge of salvation through the forgiveness of their sins.” John does not create salvation, but he announces it. He teaches people to see their need. He exposes the darkness so that the light will be welcomed when it comes.

This is why when Jesus approaches John, John declares, “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.” John’s ministry reaches its peak not when crowds gather around him, but when he points to Christ. John prepares the way, but Christ is the way. John speaks of forgiveness, but Christ secures it.

Zechariah then grounds all of this in the mercy of God. He says this salvation comes “because of the tender mercy of our God, whereby the sunrise shall visit us from on high.” That language is rich and deliberate. Salvation is pictured as a dawn. Light breaking into darkness. Morning overcoming night. This is not human effort climbing upward. This is God coming down to us.

Zechariah says this light shines “on those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death.” That phrase captures the human condition apart from Christ. We are not merely confused. We are not merely misguided. We sit in darkness. We live under the shadow of death. This echoes the promise from Isaiah 42 that we looked at previously, where the Servant would open blind eyes and bring prisoners out of darkness. Zechariah is declaring that this promise is now being fulfilled. The night is ending. The light has arrived.

John’s life foreshadows this dawn. His ministry signals that the darkness is about to be broken. But it is Christ who brings the full light. And the purpose of this light, Zechariah tells us, is “to guide our feet into the way of peace.”

That peace is not shallow or temporary. It is peace with God, because sin has been forgiven. It is peace within our hearts, because fear has been removed. And it is peace that extends outward, restoring relationships between people. Where the curse brought division and hostility, Christ brings reconciliation. Where sin created enmity, Christ establishes peace. This peace begins with peace with God, because our sin has been forgiven.

John points to Christ. Christ forgives sin. And forgiveness leads us into peace.

This is the movement of Advent. God comes near. Darkness gives way to light. Death loses its shadow. And through Christ, God guides his redeemed people into the way of peace.

Advent always places us in tension. The light has come, but the darkness has not yet fully vanished. The Savior has arrived, but the world is not yet made new. We walk by faith, not by sight, as we await the fullness of what God has promised.

Zechariah’s song teaches us how to live in that tension. He does not deny the darkness. He names it. He speaks of sin, enemies, fear, and death’s shadow. But he also declares that something decisive has happened. God has visited his people. God has remembered his covenant. God has raised up a horn of salvation. The long night has begun to break.

That is what Advent calls us to remember. We are not waiting for God to act. God has acted. We are waiting for the completion of what he has already begun. The sunrise has come, but the day is still unfolding.

Zechariah shows us that salvation is not an abstract idea or a future wish. It is rooted in God’s promises, anchored in his covenant mercy, and accomplished through his Servant. What God promised to Abraham, he did not forget. What he spoke through the prophets, he did not abandon. What he planned before the foundation of the world, he has carried out in Christ.

And this salvation does not merely change our destination. It changes our direction. It restores us to communion with God. It leads us back toward Eden. It creates a people who serve God without fear, in holiness and righteousness, all their days. Redemption leads to worship. Forgiveness leads to peace. Light leads us out of darkness and into the presence of God.

John the Baptist stands as a witness to this reality. He prepares the way, but he is not the way. He points to the light, but he is not the light. His ministry reminds us that repentance prepares the heart, but only Christ redeems it. Forgiveness precedes peace, and peace flows from the mercy of God revealed in Jesus.

And yet, even now, we wait. We still feel the weight of sin. We still see broken relationships, fractured communities, and a world that longs for peace but cannot create it. We still sit at times in shadows. But we do not wait without hope. We wait with confidence, because the same God who came once has promised to come again.

Advent teaches us to live between promise and fulfillment, between the manger and the throne, between the cross and the crown. We walk in the light we have been given, trusting that one day the light will fill all things. We live as people who have been forgiven, reconciled, and guided into the way of peace, even as we long for the day when peace will reign without interruption.

So how do we respond? Zechariah shows us. We bless God for coming near. We trust him because he keeps his promises. And we walk in the light and peace he provides through Christ. We do not cling to fear. We do not live as people still trapped in darkness. We live as those who have seen the sunrise.

And when Advent ends and Christmas comes, we do not simply celebrate a birth. We celebrate a visitation. God has come to his people. God has spoken again. God has sent his Servant. The silence is broken. The darkness is pierced. The light has dawned.

If you have never trusted in Christ, Advent is a perfect time to trust in the Jesus who comes near to you. Repent and believe that Christ has came and live your life anew knowing that Christ is your hope and joy.

The God who was silent has spoken. The God who seemed distant has come near. And the light of his mercy has risen in the darkness.

Amen.