Seventy(-Two) Campaign For Peace

Proper 9 Year C; Luke 10:1-11, 16-20)

The sending of seventy(-two) disciples is unique to Luke, although it closely resembles the earlier sending out of the twelve (9:1-6), which does have parallels in Mark and Matthew. It is more typical of Luke to remove material he sees as repetitious—Mark has two miraculous feedings, but for Luke one is entirely enough miraculous catering—so the inclusion here of a second and very similar story sending a group of disciples out is intentional and far from incidental.

It isn’t actually clear whether this story concerns seventy or seventy-two; the evidence of the ancient manuscripts is divided. Theologically speaking, both possibilities have their attractions because of echoes of older stories. Seventy corresponds with Moses’ commissioning of seventy elders, who receive the spirit to share in his work (Numbers 11); seventy-two corresponds to the number of nations outlined in Genesis 10 (at least in the Greek version Luke knew, the Septuagint), which would make this an anticipation of the coming global mission that Luke has already hinted at. Ancient scribes were divided between the attractiveness of these two possibilities as they corrected and copied, and we are just left to wonder.

Whether or not the hint of a mission to the nations is reflected in the number of those sent, there is an expanding frame of reference here that goes even beyond physical geography. Remember also that this is part of the travel narrative, the journey to Jerusalem; these disciples are “sent ahead” as emissaries for Jesus, providing “scale” for the reign of God, preparing for his presence and creating a wider sphere of influence along the way to the events anticipated in Jesus’ “exodus.” This is a campaign, and it concerns not merely this physical territory but the universe.

There are some differences across the versions (taking the sendings of the twelve as parallels too) concerning provisions or rather the lack thereof: for example, Mark allows sandals, Luke (like Matthew) does not. The details of these negative packing lists may be beside the point, but there is something important here even beyond poverty. The urgent and unlikely character of these instructions to go without typical necessities reminds us of the call stories read from Luke last week, and we should imagine some overlap between the groups called then and sent here. Just as people were there expected to accept discipleship as itinerancy without goodbyes or completion of obligations, here they have nothing to take with them.

In both cases the point is not so much shedding certain particular items or connections as grasping the nature of the mission and its demands, and seeing the contrast with the implied common sense that it is concrete equipment that would provide success. They cannot succeed by being well- (or even poorly-) equipped; they succeed by dependence on the power of God. Like the call stories then, this is not just a record of a particular group and what they experienced, but a model for the missional life to which the readers of the Gospel were (and are) being called.

Josef Sykora points out some striking similarities between this narrative and yet another text from the Pentateuch, the instructions given for the Israelites’ campaign in Canaan in Deuteronomy 20.¹ In both cases a set of instructions are offered to those preparing to undertake a divine mission, with “if…then” cases including a fork in the road between peaceful reception and rejection of those they encounter. There is also a parallel—and a contrast— with the earlier call story, since in Deuteronomy those with particular family obligations are sent home, while these conscripts of Jesus are to give everything and everyone up. In any case, this helps us understand that Luke’s story is of a sort of campaign.

The Seventy. Greek-Georgian MS, 15th century, Athos. Wikimedia Commons...

Those instructions in Deuteronomy are, however, bleak; they are among passages that have caused many (not least Jewish thinkers) to wonder at the morality of ancient Israel and its God, since the program for the encounter with various peoples is imperial and even genocidal (and all too reminiscent of modern instances of genocide and ethnic cleansing, including some now in the news). Campaigning in this sense is deeply problematic.

Here however Luke contrasts as well as compares. There had certainly been indications of a brewing conflict; the seventy(-two) are sent out “like sheep in the midst of wolves” and are, equally famously, to shake off the dust from their (bare) feet if they are not received. Yet these acts remain those of a gentle army, whose invading cry is “Peace be to this house!” The absence of equipment makes them poor warriors in the world’s terms, but this is not a typical war.

Barbara Reid and Shelly Matthews point out the power dynamic in the hospitality the seventy(-two) are to seek makes them vulnerable; they “assume a posture of gracious acceptance” rather than of even benign power.² We could add that it contrasts with how the (other) occupying army in Judea, Galilee, and Samaria confiscated what it needed, rendering others hungry in the course of provisioning themselves by force.

The true nature of the struggle is made somewhat clearer after the event, when the campaigners return and Jesus receives their report, a passage which again has no Gospel parallel. The joy of the seventy(-two) is that “even the demons submit to us.” They are victorious. Jesus’ assessment of the mission is “completely and totally obliterated” “I watched Satan fall from heaven like a flash of lightning.” This is, then, spiritual warfare. That idea has been given a bad name by some (e.g.) charismatics who have focused on purely personal and even trivial matters, but the point is important and unavoidable: the mission of peace that the disciples have undertaken is not merely therapeutic or charitable, but a conflict with the spiritual forces of evil.

Yet these forces and that struggle must be located not only in the personal and interior, but in the world burdened by injustice, violence, and the estrangement of peoples, which requires this demonstration of power made perfect in weakness (cf. 2 Cor 12:9). The demons are not lurking in corners here, but governing in plain sight. While Jesus declares victory, this does not mean that the struggle is over for his disciples then or now; his vision could be understood as referring to a future that is real in God’s time, if yet to be fully realized in human history.

The presentation of this ragtag peaceful army thus takes up a familiar contrast with the occupying Roman armies (“Legion”), whose members and equipment were everywhere in evidence, not mentioned in the text this time yet implied by the imagery of campaign. The reign of God has triumphed and will triumph, although not by the expected means of wealth, power, and violence. Even the temptation to revel in victory over evil is set aside by Jesus, excluding any sort of posturing and preening: the seventy(-two) should “not rejoice at this, that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven” (10:20; cf. Paul in today’s Epistle, “May I never boast of anything except the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world” Gal 6:14). The disciple shares in this calling and this ethos of the peaceable reign of the true king, rejoicing neither in material favor, nor even in spiritual victories, but in the saving power of God which has come near.

1. Sykora, Josef. “A Different Kind of War: Deuteronomy 20:1–14 and Luke 10:1–24 in Dialogue.” Journal of Theological Interpretation 18, no. 2 (December 31, 2024): 171–90.

2. Reid OP, Barbara E., and Shelly Matthews. Wisdom Commentary: Luke 10-24. Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2021, 344