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What Circumstances Occasioned Luke’s Gospel?

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I’ve argued that the genre of Luke’s gospel is history (in contrast to the genre of Matthew, Mark, and John, which is biography). And I’ve discussed the commonly accepted likelihood that Luke’s primary recipient, Theophilus, was a Roman nobleman.

What more can we conclude regarding the occasion of Luke’s writing? In other words, why did Luke write this two-volume history to this Roman nobleman at this time?

Let me state this post’s thesis up front: In his excellent overview articles on Luke and Acts, Daniel Wallace argues that these books were composed as a trial-brief for the Apostle Paul’s first hearing in Rome.

Image by David Mark from Pixabay

Evidence from Acts

Wallace is not the only one to propose this thesis, but he articulates it clearly and concisely, especially in his introduction to Acts. Since Luke and Acts go together as two volumes, the occasion for Acts is highly relevant to the occasion for Luke.

Wallace brings 8 pieces of evidence to the argument (in his article, you’ll find these under point E: “Occasion and Purpose”):

  1. Not only is Theophilus called “most excellent” in Luke 1:3, but it occurs in the vocative case (direct address). This term in the vocative case can be found in ancient literature only in petitions.
  2. The unusual and extraordinarily anti-climactic ending to Acts strongly suggests that Luke is writing while Paul is still in custody awaiting trial. No other theory of dating or composition has satisfactorily accounted for the petering-out and inconclusive nature of Acts 28.
  3. The mention of Paul’s house arrest having lasted two years (Acts 28:30) suggests that his right to a “speedy trial” was soon to be fulfilled, and action must soon be taken on his behalf.
  4. The literary parallels between Peter and Paul, in the first and second halves of Acts, suggest an agenda to legitimize Paul’s professed apostleship by comparison with Peter’s already-acknowledged apostleship.
  5. Peter’s story ends with his release from prison (Acs 12:17), thus implying a petition for a similar end to Paul’s story.
  6. Acts 1-20 covers 24 years of history, but then Acts 21-28 slows down to cover only four years. In particular, the narrative crawls through Paul’s legal drama, clarifying the facts of Paul’s case through 5 detailed defenses (before the Jewish feasters, the Sanhedrin, Felix, Festus, and Herod Agrippa).
  7. The Greek word for “first” in Acts 1:1 cannot be used to support a theory that Luke intended to write a third volume, which was either never completed or simply lost to us.
  8. The shipwreck narrative of Acts 27 fits with an ancient pagan belief that survival in shipwreck implies innocence.

While point #8 fits with Luke’s narrative clues (Acts 28:4-6), Wallace confesses that Acts 27 “ostensibly does not fit with the trial-brief idea.” However, that shipwreck narrative goes out of its way to show Paul complying with the Roman authorities and not once entertaining either seditious or escapist motives. The one who had every reason to flee, and every opportunity to do so surreptitiously, chose quite the opposite. Only one who was confident in his innocence would behave in this way. This certainly fits with the trial-brief idea as Luke nears the conclusion of his history, in real time, with Paul still in custody.

Further Evidence Within Luke

In his Logos Bible Software course on The Gospel of Luke, Andrew Pitts, who argues the same thesis as Wallace, proposes one further significant piece of evidence: Luke’s positive portrayal of Roman officials.

When compared to the other three gospels, Luke has a surprisingly positive view of Roman officials.

  • In Luke alone, there is no scene with Roman soldiers beating and mocking Jesus, putting a crown of thorns on his head, or asking him to prophesy about who is hitting him. There is a scene where Jesus’ Jewish captors mock him (Luke 22:63-65). And there is another scene with Herod’s soldiers mocking Jesus (Luke 23:11), but they would have been Jews or Idumeans, not Romans.
  • In Luke alone, there is a scene where people ask Jesus about Pilate’s brutality toward the Jewish people (Luke 13:1-5). We’d expect at least a critical assessment of Pilate, if not a full-blown denunciation of such wickedness. But no. Instead of criticizing Pilate, Jesus responds with a dire warning for those present to repent of their own sin before they too suffer as their countrymen did.
  • In both Matthew (Matt 8:5-13) and Luke (Luke 7:2-10), we’re told of Jesus marveling at the faith of a Roman centurion, which surpassed the faith of any in Israel. But Luke alone adds this fascinating characterization: Though the elders of Capernaum consider this military officer “worthy” of Jesus’ attention, the man himself has the humility to confess, “I am not worthy” (Luke 7:4-6).
  • In Luke alone, Pilate does not look like a buffoon at Jesus’ trial. He labors to give Jesus justice for his evident innocence. He doesn’t lose his cool and relents only when the crowd is on the verge of all-out riot (Luke 23:15-25).

Acts continues this positive portrayal of Roman officials. Just read the book and count how many times a governor or judge in some town declares a Christian or group of Christians to be innocent of any wrongdoing. And notice how the first Gentile convert to Christ is another Roman centurion.

Conclusion

I confess that, since Luke doesn’t tell us his purpose, we cannot be certain. And because no early church fathers declared clearly that Luke wrote to help exonerate Paul, some Bible dictionaries say things like: “Still’s theory that Theophilus was Paul’s defense attorney during his audience with Caesar in Rome lacks evidence (Still, St. Paul on Trial, 84)” (Lexham).

I am making an inductive argument, which is an argument where the conclusion most likely follows from the premises. It’s not a deductive argument, where the reasoning is either valid or invalid, and where true premises make the conclusion certain.

But induction is what we use almost all the time when we piece together the historical circumstances of biblical books. It is not for us to be deductively certain regarding our theories of composition. The question is one of strength: How strong is the conclusion in light of the premises?

I won’t go as far as to say that Theophilus must have been Paul’s defense attorney. Perhaps he was a lower court judge, a clerk, an expert witness, or an investigator of some sort, connected to the courts. But regardless of Theophilus’s precise role, the evidence suggests that Luke wrote his two-volume history to Theophilus as a petition for Paul’s exoneration.

Who Was Theophilus?

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Luke addresses his two-part history of the early Christian movement to a man named Theophilus.

…it seemed good to me also, having followed all things closely for some time past, to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus, that you may have certainty concerning the things you have been taught. (Luke 1:3-4)

In the first book, O Theophilus, I have dealt with all that Jesus began to do and teach… (Acts 1:1)

Who was this person, and how does knowing help us to understand the purpose of Luke and Acts?

Nonspecific Address

The early church father Origen (ca. 185-254) was the first to suggest that “Theophilus” was not a particular individual, but simply a way of addressing all believers. The name literally means “lover of God,” and therefore could become a pseudonym for all Christians everywhere, almost like composing an open letter today with the address “Dear Christian.”

While this is possible, it seems unlikely, and very few scholars today hold this opinion. If Luke wanted to address believers generally, it would have been very unusual for him to speak to “Theophilus” in typical grammatical forms that signal a communication to an individual (such as second person singular pronouns). He would have been more likely to do something along the lines of what Peter does in his first epistle: “To those who are elect exiles of the Dispersion” (1 Pet 1:1). Or he could have signaled his intentions with something more symbolic, such as John’s “to the elect lady and her children” (2 John 1).

Particular Individual

The name “Theophilus” is well attested in the time period in which Luke wrote. It was a common name, over a few centuries, all over the Roman empire. Josephus even mentions a Jewish high priest with the name a few decades before the temple fell. So it’s highly credible to conclude that Luke was writing to a specific person.

But what other clues can we find regarding the identity of this Theophilus?

Image by Couleur from Pixabay

Most Excellent

The most significant clue is Luke’s use of the phrase “most excellent” when addressing Theophilus the first time (Luke 1:3). This is not a casual California-surfer-dude sort of greeting. It has a ring of formality to it.

The address “most excellent” appears in Scripture only in Luke’s writings, and only in very formal settings.

1. A court appearance, spoken by the prosecuting attorney:

“Since through you we enjoy much peace, and since by your foresight, most excellent Felix, reforms are being made for this nation…” (Acts 24:2)

2. Another court appearance, spoken by the defendant:

“I am not out of my mind, most excellent Festus, but I am speaking true and rational words.” (Acts 26:25)

3. And, though translated differently, the same Greek term appears also in a prisoner transfer order written by a Roman centurion to the governing official:

“Claudius Lysias, to his Excellency the governor Felix, greetings.” (Acts 23:26)

For this reason, it seems likely that Theophilus is at least a Roman noble with means of some sort. Our understanding of the title is rather limited, so many scholars are hesitant to conclude any more than this.

Additional Evidence

However, additional evidence from within Luke and Acts may help us to identify Theophilus with greater precision. In additional posts, I will take up more of this evidence.

The Genre of Luke’s Gospel

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I’ve been studying Luke these days, to prepare for a new sermon series at our church. And this Sunday, I’ll kick off the series with a book overview.

To help me grasp background matters, I’ve been working my way through a course with Logos Bible Software on Luke’s gospel, taught by Dr. Andrew Pitts. The course has been outstanding, and Pitts’s comments on the genre of Luke have been particularly stimulating.

Overall Genre

Certainly, Luke belongs to the genre of historical narrative. However, there are many sub-categories of genre that fall under the umbrella of historical narrative. On a large scale, there are epics, histories, and biographies. On a small scale, there are miracle stories, confrontation stories, healings, teaching, parables, and origin stories.

Regarding Luke, Pitts argues that there is a difference between ancient biography and ancient history. Biographies focus on one individual, the subject, who is praised or lifted up in some way, and readers are called to imitate or follow that figure. Histories, however, focus more on events than on any particular person, and they are concerned with explaining why something is the way it is, or with making a political or social point in light of the relevant history.

jean louis mazieres (2018), Creative Commons

Comparing the Four Gospels

I have always presumed Luke to be the same genre as the other gospels. Of course, it’s closer to Matthew and Mark, which is why those three are often referred to as the “synoptic” (similar perspective) gospels. John is unique, with a completely different style and method of narration.

However, Pitts argues that, at least with respect to genre, the oddball among the four gospels is really Luke. He suggests that Matthew, Mark, and John are biographies, but Luke is a history.

Why does he conclude this?

  • Ancient biographies tend to introduce their subject in the first sentence (or very close to the first sentence). Matthew 1:1, Mark 1:1, and John 1:1 all reference Jesus as the book’s subject. But Luke doesn’t even mention Jesus until Luke 1:31, and then only in predictive speech. Jesus doesn’t become a character or subject until Luke 2:7, or even Luke 2:11. This late mention of the chief subject would be very unusual for a biography. But such late mention of a major protagonist fits right with the expectations for a narrative history.
  • Compared to ancient histories, ancient biographies have a much higher density of citation of authoritative sources to support the portrait of the biography’s subject. Matthew, Mark, and John all fit the parameters of citation density (quoting the Old Testament, in their case) expected from biography. Luke’s density of OT citation is much lower, fitting more closely the parameters of ancient history. (Though Luke cites the OT more times than Mark does, Luke is much longer than Mark, thus making his density of citation significantly lower than Mark’s.)
  • When Luke does introduce his subject matter in the first verse, he terms it “the things that have been accomplished among us” (Luke 1:1). He doesn’t speak of a person, but of a series of events. This is what we’d expect from a history, not a biography.
  • Luke is the only gospel with a sequel (the book of Acts), so we need to read Luke and Acts as a single work in two parts. And Acts clearly moves well beyond the life of Jesus of Nazareth, telling the tales of a number of Jesus’ followers. It might be possible to say that Luke-Acts is a collection of biographies, with Jesus’ life being the first subject. But compendiums of biographies were also known in the ancient world, and there is no other example of such a collection following a single narrative thread (from the first subject, to the second, to the third, etc., instead of treating each biography as a completely separate narrative). If Luke-Acts were a collection of biographies, it would be the only ancient document to take this meta-narrative approach. However, Luke-Acts does follow the standard expectations of an ancient history, moving from one event, to another, to another, in a seamless overarching narrative.

What Difference Does It Make?

What difference does it make whether Luke is biography or history?

Simply that we’ll better observe Luke’s focus, which enables us to focus there with him. Since Matthew, Mark, and John are biographies of Jesus, we read them rightly when we focus on the person of Jesus. Of course, we can’t ignore what Jesus did or what resulted from his work. But with the emphasis on who he was, the other things fall into place as implications of the main idea (Jesus himself).

But if Pitts is right that Luke-Acts presents itself as history, then we’ll better understand Luke-Acts if we focus on what that two-volume work says about the Christian movement. Of course, we can’t ignore who Jesus is when we read Luke-Acts; the movement’s founder is, well, the movement’s foundation. But the identity and character of Jesus, in Luke’s case, are more the implications than the main idea.

Another way to state the hypothesis is that the biographies of Matthew, Mark, and John are meant to tell us, first and foremost, about Jesus. And the history of Luke (along with Acts) is meant to tell us, first and foremost, about Christianity.

This understanding of Luke’s genre is one piece of the puzzle that is Luke’s purpose in writing, along with his main point. In future posts, I may revisit Luke with yet more pieces of that puzzle.

Did Jesus’ Ministry Last 3 Years?

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Protestants sometimes accuse Roman Catholics of holding to traditions not found in the Bible (e.g. Mary’s immaculate conception and perpetual virginity, etc.). But even Protestants must be careful with their judgment, as they will certainly be measured by the same measure with which they measure others (Matt 7:1-2). Certainly they don’t irrationally hold on to traditions unsupported by Scripture, do they?

We could explore a number of such traditions that Protestants ought to be willing to reconsider in light of the biblical data. In this post, I’ll tackle the typically unexamined maxim that Jesus’ ministry lasted for 3 years. A related assertion is that Jesus was 33 years old when he was crucified. Careful observation of the scriptural data will show us that these assertions could be true, but they are far from certain.

Reasons for the Tradition

If you research an article or book that examines the question, and doesn’t merely assert the 3-year timeframe, you’ll find the answer typically hinges on a few pieces of biblical evidence:

  1. Luke says Jesus began his ministry at “about 30 years of age” (Luke 3:23).
  2. John records three Passover events during Jesus’ ministry (John 2:13, 6:4, 11:55). That third Passover is drawn out also in John 12:1, 13:1, and John 19:14.

From this evidence, the conclusion is drawn: He began at age 30, he ministered for 3 years (through 3 annual Passover feasts), and therefore he died at age 33.

St. Paul’s Timeline, Heidi Blanton (2010), Creative Commons

Familiarity vs. Observation

But please don’t allow your familiarity with the tradition to blind you from careful observation of the text!

  • Luke clearly says that Jesus was “about” 30, not “exactly” 30. Perhaps Luke wants us to think of the beginning of Jesus’ ministry as analogous to the “coming of age” of priests (Num 4:1-3) and rulers (Gen 41:46, 2 Sam 5:4) at age 30. Or perhaps he has other reasons for rounding the number.
  • Though John records three Passover events, we have no proof that he intends his narrative to be literally chronological. Some scholars argue that the first Passover (chapter 2) was the same Passover as the one during which he was crucified, and that John bumps it early in his narrative to make a theological point. Others argue that the Passover of John 6:4 refers to same Passover of the year Jesus was crucified (and therefore, that John 6:4 and John 11:55 are referring to the same event).
  • But regardless of whether John tells us about three Passovers, two Passovers, or even one—he never says that these were the only Passovers Jesus attended during his ministry. To assert or assume these 3 Passover references mean Jesus’ ministry lasted 3 years is to argue from silence.

Conclusion

Now I hope this analysis doesn’t generate seismic repercussions in anyone’s faith. My guess is that most people reading this explanation are not shaken to their core by it. If your reaction is along the lines of, “Who cares whether Jesus’ ministry was 3 years, or 2 years, or even 6 years long?”—I would like to buy you a drink and bless you in the name of Christ.

So why do I care enough to point it out?

Because these things snowball across generations. It’s not difficult for an angel’s legitimate blessing of Mary (Luke 1:28) to evolve over time into sacred legends about her moral perfection, perpetual chastity, or extraordinary origin. In the same way, who knows when or how the mistakenly assumed “three-year ministry of Jesus” might evolve into a three-year master plan for discipleship, or a three-year sacred tradition for church planting, or a set of uncompromisable three-year expectations for how God must work to build his kingdom?

Most spurious traditions have their origin in something true and good. But we cannot add to that truth without, in the end, compromising the very truth we sought to uphold. For example, it is a good and right thing to love God more than your parents (Luke 14:26). But it’s an altogether wicked thing to add traditions to that truth which end up undermining the obligation to care for your aging forebears (Mark 7:9-13).

The Bible doesn’t tell us exactly how many years Jesus spent with his disciples, going about doing good and healing. So we ought not to casually assert a three-year timeline as though it were self-evident.

What I Learned By Reading a Passage 25 Times

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money

Sharon McCutcheon (2018), public domain

In my last article, I described my latest experiment. In preparing to lead my small group through Luke 16, I read the chapter as many times as possible.

In this article I’ll provide the results.

An Overview

There are three sections to Luke 16.

The Dishonest Manager (verses 1–13)

Jesus begins the chapter with a story of a rich man and a dishonest manager. The manager squandered the man’s possessions and was fired. On the way out, he had to give an account of his business transactions (Luke 16:2).

The manager called the man’s debtors and cut their bills. He aimed to gain favor with these debtors in hopes of securing his next employment.

The rich man praised the manager “because he had acted shrewdly” (Luke 16:8). Jesus extracted principles about money from this story (Luke 16:8–13).

The Pharisees (verses 13–18)

Pharisees were listening and scoffed at Jesus (Luke 16:13). Jesus rebuked the Pharisees as those who justified themselves and sought only what is praised by men (Luke 16:15).

Jesus then spoke about the relationship between the Law and the Prophets and the preaching of the gospel (Luke 16:16–18).

The Rich Man and Lazarus (verses 19–31)

The chapter concludes with the story of the rich man and Lazarus. The rich man lived lavishly while Lazarus suffered severely just outside the rich man’s gate. After death, the rich man cried out from Hades to Lazarus and Abraham in heaven for relief.

The rich man asked Abraham to send Lazarus to his family to warn them (Luke 16:28). Abraham told him that Moses and the Prophets were warning enough.

Themes in Luke 16

The major themes in Luke 16 become obvious when we pay attention to repetition: money and the law and the prophets.

The “rich man” is a character in two stories in this chapter. In between, after Jesus says “You cannot serve God and wealth,” the Pharisees are introduced as “lovers of money.” There is also instruction on wealth in Luke 16:8–12.

Earlier portions of Luke (Luke 6:1–11, Luke 11:37–54, Luke 14:1–6) show the Pharisees’ devotion to and distortion of the law and the prophets, so the Pharisees’ self-justification is likely related to the law. Jesus then talks about the preaching of the law and the preaching of the gospel, concluding that not even one stroke of a letter of the Law will fail (Luke 16:17). Abraham tells the rich man that the law (Moses) and the prophets should be enough to bring his family to repentance.

How Rereading Brought Clarity

It didn’t take long for me to identify the most confusing verse in this chapter.

And I tell you, make friends for yourselves by means of unrighteous wealth, so that when it fails they may receive you into the eternal dwellings. (Luke 16:9)

By reading this chapter multiple times, I began to see the structure of the passage, and this helped me grasp the main point. (Most commentaries on Luke were not helpful, because they took the text in too-small portions. Despite good analysis of the trees, there was no analysis of the forest.)

When we consider the context of a passage, we usually look backward: an earlier passage sheds light on a later one. In this chapter the opposite is true.

In the parable of the rich man and Lazarus, Jesus shines a spotlight on the rich man’s money (Luke 16:19). The rich man ignored Lazarus, who needed just a bit of the rich man’s abundance. Further, since wealth often runs in families, the rich man’s concern for his brothers (Luke 16:28) was a concern for other rich men. The rich man’s wealth produced a numbness in him toward his neighbor (Lazarus). Wealth is dangerous, as it can also lead to an ignorance of Moses and the Prophets (Luke 16:29–31).

We need this story to understand verse 9. The dishonest manager was shrewd with his master’s wealth, hoping to be welcomed into the homes of others, and Jesus praises this shrewdness. But, lest we think too highly of this manager, Jesus criticizes him in verses 10–12.

In contrast to the dishonest manager, the “sons of light” (verse 8) are to do better things with their wealth. He used wealth for worldly gains; followers of Jesus are to use wealth for heavenly gains.

Here’s the key. Money kept the rich man (at the end of the chapter) out of the eternal dwellings (verse 9). Christians are to use money in such a way that we make friends who can receive us into the eternal dwellings. This points to generosity.

The middle section of the chapter brings all of this together. You cannot serve God and wealth. In particular, you cannot serve God if you are a lover of money. However, you can (in fact, you must) serve God with your wealth.1

Main Point and Conclusion

The main point of this chapter can be stated succinctly.

You cannot serve God and wealth, but you can (and must) serve God with your wealth.

I don’t claim a perfect understanding of this passage, but I owe the understanding I have to reading this passage multiple times. This practice unlocked the chapter’s structure for me, giving me insight into a confusing verse. I commend this discipline to you.

  1. This interpretation depends on the phrase “unrighteous wealth” referring to wealth on earth as opposed to treasures in heaven, not wealth gained in an evil way. This interpretation depends on Luke 16:11. ↩

Are All Who Laugh or Have Wealth Cursed?

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Luke 6:20-26 appears to make no qualification whatsoever:

  • Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God…Woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation.
  • Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you shall be satisfied…Woe to you who are full now, for you shall be hungry.
  • Blessed are you who weep now, for you shall laugh…Woe to you who laugh now, for you shall mourn and weep.

We may be inclined to race to Matthew’s parallel passage so we can qualify the text with “poor in spirit,” “hunger for righteousness,” etc. But that would violate a fundamental principle of observing and interpreting Luke’s intended message for his audience.

So what should we make of these extreme statements?

In a recent episode of the Ask Pastor John podcast, John Piper masterfully demonstrates why context matters. He takes up this question on this text, and he observes the context of Luke’s argument to help us understand and apply these verses as Luke intended.

The podcast would be a great use of 11 minutes of you day. Check it out!

Does Jesus Commend Dishonesty?

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If you’ve ever read the parable in Luke 16:1-9 about the fraudulent servant who gets fired, further cheats his employer, and is commended—you might have wondered what in the world was going on. When Jesus criticizes the sons of light for failing to be as shrewd as as the sons of this world (Luke 16:8), is he expecting his people to act like the crook?

John Piper answers this question for us by looking carefully at the text, within the context of Luke, and by drawing application from the parable’s main point. He shows us how to answer difficult questions with good Bible study skills.

Check it out!

The Resurrection of Jesus According to Luke

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Why did Jesus rise from the dead? We’ve previously looked at Matthew’s account, and today we turn to Luke.

The Purpose of Luke

Luke’s purpose is evident from the first verses of his book (Luke 1:1–4). He is writing an “orderly account” for Theophilus, that he would “have certainty concerning the things [he had] been taught.” Luke writes as a historian.

Following Daniel Wallace, I take this as Luke’s theme: Jesus is the Son of Man, rejected by Israel, offered to the Gentiles.

(See also Peter’s look at Luke for a previous series.)

The Witnesses

Luke 24 opens with three women approaching Jesus’s tomb at dawn (Luke 24:1), expecting to anoint his body with spices they prepared (Luke 23:56). They had seen Jesus’s body laid in the tomb (Luke 23:55), so when they find the stone rolled away, they know where to look. They are “perplexed” to find no body.

As the angels tell the women that Jesus has risen, they emphasize Jesus’s own words.

Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men and be crucified and on the third day rise. (Luke 24:6–7)

The women then remember (Luke 24:8) and tell the apostles what they saw (Luke 24:9). But the apostles don’t believe them (Luke 24:11), so Peter checks it out himself. He leaves the tomb convinced (Luke 24:12).

Remember that Luke is a historian, so he presents his readers with evidence and testimony about this miraculous discovery. We have not one, but two heavenly witnesses declaring, “He is not here, but has risen” (Luke 24:6). All three women who saw the empty tomb are named (Luke 24:10), perhaps for the purpose of verification. The angels point to Jesus’s prophecy about himself (Luke 9:22) as more evidence.

Peter gives the final testimony. It is significant that Peter saw the linen wrappings (Luke 24:12) instead of an empty tomb. Grave robbers would have taken the body with the cloth; a resurrected Jesus would shed his wrappings.

Peter’s previous appearance in Luke did not end well. Jesus looked at Peter after the rooster crow marked Peter’s third denial (Luke 22:61). After being absent at the crucifixion, he was desperate for another chance to see the Lord. He had to see the evidence for himself, and we see it through him.

Who is this Risen Jesus?

Luke doesn’t just present the empty tomb. He teaches us about Jesus in the process.

Through the account of the crucifixion, Luke highlights Jesus’s innocence. Pilate proclaims Jesus innocent three times (Luke 23:4, 23:14, 23:22). Herod can find nothing in Jesus worthy of death (Luke 23:15). One of the crucified criminals recognizes Jesus has done nothing wrong (Luke 23:14). And after Jesus breathed his last, the centurion praised God, knowing Jesus was innocent (Luke 23:47).

In Luke’s gospel, the phrase “sinful men” (Luke 24:7) is unique to this passage. He uses it here as a contrast: Jesus was unlike the men that carried out his death. In his resurrection, Jesus was vindicated, declared righteous and innocent. (See also 1 Timothy 3:16.)

Secondly, in Luke 24:7 the angels refer to Jesus as the “Son of Man.” This was Jesus’s favorite title for himself; the angels confirmed that Jesus used the title rightly. So what does that title mean?

At first glance, the title “Son of Man” seems ordinary, as though Jesus just meant he was a human. But Luke has far more in view.

The title “Son of Man” comes from Daniel 7. In a vision, one “like a son of man” appears before the Ancient of Days and is given dominion, glory, and a kingdom. Strikingly, “all peoples, nations, and languages” will serve him and “his dominion [will be] an everlasting dominion, which shall not pass away, and his kingdom one that shall not be destroyed” (Daniel 7:13–14). Instead of an earthy, human title, “Son of Man” is heavenly and kingly, with worldwide consequences. (For more on Jesus as the Son of Man, see here or here.)

Beyond Israel

A few more details from the surrounding chapters will help us firm up the main point.

Jesus prayed that his Father would forgive those who crucified him (Luke 23:34). He promised one of the criminals that he would be with Jesus in paradise (Luke 23:43). Additionally, when the resurrected Jesus meets with his disciples, he says that “repentance for the forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in [the Christ’s] name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem” (Luke 24:47). Jesus came for Jews and Gentiles.

What’s the Main Point?

Here is Luke’s main point.

Believe this: Jesus is the innocent Son of Man, raised from the dead for the whole world.

In the resurrection passage, Luke aims for the head, so let’s focus our application there. Do you believe in Jesus’s resurrection? How does that affect your thinking about forgiveness, God’s power, and God’s promises?

Luke also wrote the book of Acts, and there we see that Jesus’s resurrection changed the apostles and turned the world upside down. Be careful, or it will have the same effect on you.

Two Ways to Outline a Bible Passage

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mkorsakov (2014), Creative Commons

mkorsakov (2014), Creative Commons

There must be high demand for Bible outlines, since they show up everywhere. Almost every study Bible outlines each book. Almost every commentary has a central outline. Most sermons and study guides outline their passages. And most introductory essays on books of the Bible share a few key topics: date, author, audience, key themes, and—you guessed it—outline.

We generate and consume Bible outlines in massive quantities, but have you ever considered what goes into creating an outline? How do you know if the outline is accurate or not? And what makes some outlines better or worse than others, at least for specific purposes?

Let’s assume you’re already convinced it’s worth your time to pay attention to structure. (If you need more convincing, see how structure shapes the meaning of a passage and 10 reasons why we should take note of structure.) How does that structure translate into a formal outline? What should you look for in an outline? Why are some outlines of the same text so different from one another?

Outline #1: Observational

The first way to make an outline is to summarize what the passage says. This type of outline takes the bare facts of a passage and puts them in order.

For example, here is part of an outline of Job from the Gospel Transformation Bible:

III. The Intervention of Eliphaz (Job 4:1-5:27)
IV. Job’s First Response to Eliphaz (Job 6:1-7:21)
V. The Intervention of Bildad (Job 8:1-22)
VI. Job’s First Response to Bildad (Job 9:1-10:22)
VII. The Intervention of Zophar (Job 11:1-20)
VIII. Job’s First Response to Zophar (Job 12:1-14:22)

This outline contains some important observations. Job’s speeches alternate with those of his 3 friends, who each speak in turn. If you continue through the outline, you’ll see that Eliphaz and Bildad each speak three times, and Zophar speaks only twice. But Job has a response to each one of their speeches.

This outline gives you a straightforward, clear grasp of the text’s structure. Similarly observational outlines for other books of the Bible might go like this:

Luke:
I. Jesus’ Birth (Luke 1-2)
II. Jesus’ Galilean Ministry (Luke 3-9)
III. Jesus on the Way to Jerusalem (Luke 9-19)
IV. Jesus in Jerusalem (Luke 19-21)
V. Jesus’ Suffering and Death (Luke 22-23)
VI. Jesus’ Resurrection (Luke 24)

Proverbs:
I. Introduction (Prov 1-9)
II. Proverbs of Solomon (Prov 10:1-22:16)
III. Sayings of the Wise (Prov 22:17-24:34)
IV. Hezekiah’s Collection (Prov 25-29)
V. Proverbs of Agur (Prov 30)
VI. Proverbs of King Lemuel (Prov 31:1-9)
VII. The Virtuous Woman (Prov 31:10-31)

These outlines tell you exactly what happens in the text, and they’re great for helping you get your bearings in a book. But they don’t say much more than the foundational what.

Outline #2: Interpretive

The second way to make an outline is to describe what the passage means. This type of outline takes the main points of a passage and shows their logical flow.

For example, here is part of an outline of Job (same section as above) from the ESV Study Bible:

B. The friends and Job: can Job be right before God? (Job 4:1–25:6)

1. First cycle (Job 4:1–14:22)

a. Eliphaz: can mortal man be in the right before God? (Job 4:1–5:27)
b. Job: life is futile (Job 6:1–7:21)
c. Bildad: the wisdom of the sages (Job 8:1–22)
d. Job: how can a mortal be just before God? (Job 9:1–10:22)
e. Zophar: repent (Job 11:1–20)
f. Job: a challenge to the “wisdom” of his friends (Job 12:1–14:22)

This outline goes beyond bare observation and shows the flow of ideas from one speech to the next. The chief benefit of such an outline is that it gives you not only the what but also the why. It focuses not only on summaries but also on main points (do you know the difference?). The chief weakness of such an outline is that it’s more likely to be mistaken or even off-center, since it’s not as clearly based on the surface of the text.

Different Outlines for Different Uses

In some cases, the observational outline will be more useful. Such cases include the first pass through a book overview, a detailed review to confirm the validity of an interpretive outline, or a quick compass check to find your place in a book (I’m slogging through Isaiah 25 and need to be reminded of the larger sections).

In other cases, the interpretive outline will be more useful. Such cases include teaching or preaching, concisely organizing the main points or train of thought, or moving toward application.

Let’s say you’re studying Mark 15:1-20 to teach to others. You might begin your own study with a simple observational outline:

  1. Jews deliver Jesus to Pilate (Mk 15:1-5)
  2. Pilate delivers Jesus to be crucified (Mk 15:6-15)
  3. Soldiers mock Jesus (Mk 15:16-20)

But I hope you don’t teach the passage that way. That outline doesn’t help anyone to understand why Mark wrote these things. Something like this will be more useful for teaching:

  1. Don’t mistake this King’s identity (Mk 15:1-5)
  2. Don’t miss this King’s release (Mk 15:6-15)
  3. Don’t abhor this King’s mockery (Mk 15:16-20)

Can you see the difference? Do you see how you can get from one outline to the other? Can you see benefits to each one? Why do you think some outlines are better than others?

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Why It’s Hard to Delegate Responsibility

By

Peter Rasmussen (2014), Creative Commons

Peter Rasmussen (2014), Creative Commons

In family life, we call them helicopter parents, because they hover close and swoop in when their wards need rescue. They keep younglings caged and well-padded. They argue over grades with college professors. They sit in on job interviews. They expect daily phone calls and pre-decision consultations.

And these “helicopter parents” run rampant also in Christian ministry. I confess: I am prone to be one of them. But by way of contrast, let me tell a few stories.

Eighteen Months

I know one guy who served the Lord in a previously unreached part of the world. This community tolerated monotheism, and some folks had been influenced by Jewish ideas. But they had never heard of Jesus or his saving work until this man arrived. His ministry got kicked out of its meeting place several times. He made a remarkable number of enemies. He was even abducted and brought before the local judge on charges of anarchy (thankfully, he was acquitted). But he stayed there for a total of 18 months, preaching and making disciples. When God called him elsewhere, he left a thriving church with regular worship services, a reputation for strong teaching, and a group of pastors and elders to shepherd them.

Did you hear that? This guy trained and launched leaders from unbelief, through conversion, and into competent shepherding in 18 months! If someone new came to my Bible study, I might not even let them lead a prayer time in 18 months. I care too much to allow such reckless indiscretion.

On-the-Job Training

Another fellow in my acquaintance focused on itinerant ministry. He gathered a few trainees about him and poured himself into them, while he hit the preaching circuit. I was amazed by his ability to turn absolutely anything into an object lesson. He coached, explained things, served people, and let his apprentices participate and practice. Within a few years, he began booking his apprentices to preach on his behalf.

While I appreciated the multiplying ministry, I also had significant concerns here. A few of these apprentices didn’t yet have a clear Christology (doctrine of Christ). They hadn’t gone to seminary or received any other formal theological training. But this missionary was convinced their syllabus for learning needed a good proportion of teaching to help them progress faster in their training. It was pretty risky and almost created a disaster.

What Holds Us Back

Why is it so hard for me (and perhaps for you) to let people go, to send them out and let them try their hand at ministry? Why do we hover, hang on to responsibility, and pass things off with stalwart reluctance?

Of course, there are many possible answers. But the main reason for me is that I fear failure. It’s the same reason I hated group projects as a student. It’s why I carry burdens I don’t need to carry. It’s why I find it easiest to do something myself.

Can you relate?

  • Do you ever feel like an unskilled apprentice would reflect negatively on your leadership?
  • Do you think the stakes are too high for the people you minister to, for a newbie to make mistakes in caring for them?
  • Do you believe you’re caring for weaker brothers or sisters when you cushion their fall?

One of the best ways people learn is by feeling the pain of their mistakes. If we are serious about training others to lead Bible studies (or do any other kind of ministry), we must take risks. We must launch apprentices quickly, bring them back to debrief, and send them out to try it again. We need to give them real authority to try things. We must be okay with imperfection. We have to make peace with some people’s needs going unmet while the apprentice figures out how to meet them. We can’t jump in and fix it.

We should be okay with mistakes in the Bible study, mistakes in the small group, mistakes in the pulpit. We should never hammer ministry apprentices for trying and failing, though we might need to admonish them for not really trying.

I was not ready to lead my first Bible study, but I needed that first one so the second one could be better. Someone trusted me enough to let me try it. If I were that leader, training up that younger me, I might not have taken the risk. But I praise God for the courageous leaders in my life, and I want to be more like them.

Postscript: I want my argument to be biblical and not merely anecdotal, so allow me to introduce my two missionary friends from the case studies above. You may find them in Acts 18:1-18 and Luke 10:1-24.

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