Luke 9

Luke 9:3:
he told them, “Take nothing for the journey—no staff, no bag, no bread, no money, no extra shirt

​​One of the great conundrums in the Synoptics is the issue of whether Jesus told his disciples to take a staff, not take a staff, or don’t take an extra staff. I don’t have a complete answer, but in my reading part of the answer occurred to me and it illustrates the need for common sense in exegesis. In Mark 6:8–9 Jesus says, “Take nothing for the journey except a staff (εἰ μὴ ῥάβδον μόνον)—no bread, no bag, no money in your belts. Wear sandals but not an extra shirt (ὑποδεδεμένους σανδάλια, καὶ μὴ ἐνδύσησθε δύο χιτῶνας).” In Luke 9:3 he told them, “Take nothing for the journey--no staff, no bag, no bread, no money, no extra shirt (Μηδὲν αἴρετε εἰς τὴν ὁδόν, μήτε ῥάβδον μήτε πήραν μήτε ἄρτον μήτε ἀργύριον μήτε [ἀνὰ] δύο χιτῶνας ἔχειν).” Matt 10:9–10 reads, “Do not get (κτήσησθε) any gold or silver or copper to take with you in your belts—no bag for the journey or extra shirt or sandals or a staff (μὴ πήραν εἰς ὁδὸν μηδὲ δύο χιτῶνας μηδὲ ὑποδήματα μηδὲ ῥάβδον), for the worker is worth his keep.” The basic message is clear, regardless of the details. They are not to make human provisions for the future; those they serve must care for them. But what about the staff? I want to focus on Matt 10:10. From a straight exegetical viewpoint, the repetition of μηδὲ clearly separates Jesus’ instructions into four categories: no bag not two tunics (the garment worn under the coat) no sandals no staff The repetition of μηδή limits δύο (“two,” or “extra”) only to “tunics.” Grammatically, it cannot modify ὑποδήματα or ῥάβδον. But enter common sense. Word for word, in Matt 10:10 Jesus is saying his disciples cannot take sandals, which means they would have to go barefooted. In the ancient world, this simply would not be possible (see Bock, Luke 1:816). It would also conflict with Mark 6:9. Remember the basic principle that grammar is descriptive, not prescriptive. There are set ways of saying things (we call that being grammatically correct), but that doesn’t mean we always say things exactly, precisely correct, and often we let context and common sense interpret our words. I saw an advertisement last night composed of two words, a verb and an adjective. Now, we should know that is incorrect grammar. Adjectives don’t modify verbs (at least according to my high school English classes, and my mom!). If you are going to modify a verb, you must use an adverb, which changes “different” to “differently.” But even though the advertisement violated grammar (and I am aware of the post modern movement that seeks to remove almost all grammar), it still communicated just fine. I am supposed to “Think Differently.” So back to Matt 10:10. Grammatically, the δύο modifies χιτῶνας, but in terms of its sense surely it carries over to ὑποδήματα as a prohibition of carrying extra sandals. And if it carries over to ὑποδήματα, there is no reason why it also can’t carry over to ῥάβδον. Of course, there is the added question of why would anyone take two carrying sticks (if that is what the ῥάβδον is), but that is a different blog. What I wanted to emphasize here is that people don’t always speak with perfect grammar (except my mom), and we all expect our listeners to use common sense. This is, I think, the clear meaning of the passage, and brings Matt 10:10 somewhat into agreement with Mark 6:8. --Bill Mounce

​Luke 9:10-17:
And the apostles, when they had returned, told Him all that they had done. Then He took them and went aside privately into a deserted place belonging to the city called Bethsaida. 
​​11 But when the multitudes knew it, they followed Him; and He received them and spoke to them about the kingdom of God, and healed those who had need of healing.
  12 When the day began to wear away, the twelve came and said to Him, “Send the multitude away, that they may go into the surrounding towns and country, and lodge and get provisions; for we are in a deserted place here.”
13 But He said to them, “You give them something to eat.”
And they said, “We have no more than five loaves and two fish, unless we go and buy food for all these people.”
  14 For there were about five thousand men.
Then He said to His disciples, “Make them sit down in groups of fifty.” 
  15 And they did so, and made them all sit down.
16 Then He took the five loaves and the two fish, and looking up to heaven, He blessed and broke them, and gave them to the disciples to set before the multitude.
  17 So they all ate and were filled, and twelve baskets of the leftover fragments were taken up by them.

Trying to solve the dilemma on their own, the disciples are stymied. Pointing to a young man’s meal pouch of five loaves and two fish, Andrew asks, “How far will they go among so many?” Philip tries to calculate how much it will cost to feed the throng, concluding that not even eight months’ wages would be enough. Some of the apostles urge Jesus to send the crowd home. Of course, in focusing on what they did not have, the disciples overlooked what they did have: a few pieces of bread, a couple of fish, and, most important of all, the Great Banquet’s executive chef. What they saw as a limitation, Jesus saw as an opportunity. When that young man stepped out from the crowd and offered what he had, Jesus worked a miracle and fed a mountain full of people. And that was just the appetizer; the main course was still to come. After the miracle, Jesus crosses the Sea of Galilee, and the people follow. Invoking the story of Moses, they brazenly order Jesus to serve up more miracle feasts so that they may believe in Him, demanding, “What sign then will you give that we may see it and believe you?” He admonishes them for not recognizing their spiritual emptiness, for their ingratitude, for their sense of entitlement, for their shallowness. “It is not Moses who has given you the bread from heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is the bread that comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.” Their response is stunning: “From now on, give us this bread!” Exasperated, Jesus explains, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry. … The one who feeds on me will live because of me.” He almost begs the crowd to join the feast — the real feast — but they reject His offer as they meander into the night. Some argue about the meaning of His words. Some grumble and question his background. Some reject His “hard teaching,” concluding, “Who can accept it?” According to John, “Many of His disciples turned back and no longer followed him.” Jesus was revealing to the crowd — and to us — not just what we need to survive, but what we need to live. To be truly alive, to experience the abundant life He desires to share with us, we need more than the blessings He gives. We need Him. For those with ears to hear, there’s nothing really new in what Christ said. In fact, this idea that God is the bread of life is the same message shared in Isaiah: “Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good, and you will delight in the richest of fare. Give ear and come to me; listen, that you may live.” Only God can fill an empty heart. And only a willing spirit can partake of the meal He has prepared. --Alan Dowd

Luke 9:20: But what about you?" he asked. "Who do you say I am?" Peter answered, "The Christ of God." 

​The important question here is "who do YOU say that I am?" Often when asked the question about who Jesus is we may do as Peter and say, well, "The Bible says He was this or that," or, "my pastor says he is this or that," etc etc etc. This is why Jesus had to ask Peter the question again. "Who do YOU say that I am?" When the tire hits the road, this is the question we need to be able answer. It does not matter what anyone else says about who Jesus is, or what the latest theory is. Everyone has an opinion about Jesus. We need to search ourselves and be assured that we are not hiding behind the opinions or faith of others and make our own declaration.
When you meet Jesus face to face, he'll not ask, "Were your parents followers of mine?" or "Did you attend a dynamic, growing church where people loved me?" No. Jesus will look you in the eye and ask the same question he asked his disciples. "Who do you say that I am?" Will it be the same as Peter's, "You are the Christ." If you have been hiding behind the opinion or the faith of others, it is time to step out and declare for yourself who Jesus is: the Christ, the Son of the living God.

Even an elementary reading of Scripture would lead us to believe we have missed the point of who Jesus is and what it means to follow Him. In the Gospel of Luke is the discourse between Jesus and Peter. After asking the disciples who the crowds thought He was, Jesus asked, “Who do you say I am?” (Luke 9:20). Peter responded first, and his answer is short, yet revolutionary: “The Christ of God” (Luke 9:20). Whether Peter’s answer substantiates the formation of the papacy is beside the point. The point is that Peter had a revelation; he got it. He did not stumble on his answer by some magical formula or intellectual exercise, but by revelation of the Holy Spirit. The Spirit opened his eyes, and Peter was able to see Jesus for who He was: the Messiah, the Savior King, the Son of the Living God. Certainly the depth of this revelation grew throughout his life, but in that initial moment his worldview began a dramatic shift. Like Peter, we need a Spirit-birthed revelation when it comes to the question of who is Jesus Christ. Namely because “You are the Christ of God” comes difficult to swallow for us who live in the center of consumer culture, where comfort, material wealth, individualism, and image are among our most important pursuits. It has become a norm to equate a relationship with Christ with a life of financial freedom and prosperity. Furthermore, we have been sold a gospel that links God’s best for us or the sign of God’s blessing with a big paycheck. The marketing strategy of today’s Christology has been handcuffed to a checking account with a large ending balance. Can we really say we know who Christ is when we have dissociated suffering and self-sacrifice from following Christ? Following Christ is by no means a call to masochism, but since when has taking up one’s cross (Luke 9:23) been a call to a life of comfort and luxury? “You are the Christ of God” leaves no room for narcissism. It implies a total shift in our values, pursuits, and what we deem important in life. It demands we realize the supremacy of Christ in every area of our life. When we do, titles, positions, accolades, degrees, and our greatest achievements pale in comparison with the Light of the World. To respond like Peter means a radical shift takes place within our heart; we move from self to servant. This uprising in the human soul becomes the bedrock of our new identity. In that moment of revelation is complete abandonment to self, total surrender to the person of Jesus Christ, and the emergence of childlike faith in our Lord. It propels us to live a life of love and gives us the courage to follow Christ even if it includes poverty and discomfort. --Joel T. Perttul: Enrichment Journal: Who Do You Say I Am?