the singularity of being and nothingness
Two Swords and an Interpretive Dilemma
Then Jesus asked them, “When I sent you without purse, bag or sandals, did you lack anything?”
“Nothing,” they answered.He said to them, “But now if you have a purse, take it, and also a bag; and if you don’t have a sword, sell your cloak and buy one. It is written: ‘And he was numbered with the transgressors'[b]; and I tell you that this must be fulfilled in me. Yes, what is written about me is reaching its fulfillment.”
The disciples said, “See, Lord, here are two swords.”
“That is enough,” he replied.(Luke 22:35-38)
If you’ve ever studied this passage from Luke 22, you’re sure to have come away with, at the very least, a modicum of uncertainty and perhaps a fair amount of confusion as well. While it’s quite simple in its construction, the ridiculously large number of interpretations that are assigned to it makes it a troubling passage from an exegetical perspective.
What makes this passage so difficult to interpret, however, is not the obscurity of its words, but rather the ends to which different interpreters press the passage. Principally, this passage is used by many to advocate something of a justification of Christian violence-through-self-defense, while others use the passage antinomiously to argue for an ethic of total Christian pacifism. More on this later…
In this post, I’d like to outline the major interpretations of this passage, highlighting the logic which drives the passage and theological and praxial conclusions toward which the interpretations are directed. And finally, I’d like to offer my own thoughts on how I think the passage should be treated. But first, let’s get some context.
The Context
These words of Jesus occur only in Luke, and are set narratively between the events of the Last Supper and Jesus’ retreat to the Mount of Olives where he will eventually be arrested. The appearance of the passage in this context makes some narrative sense, for mere lines later in the text we will encounter the famous altercation in which Peter (in Luke, “one of Jesus’ followers) uses a sword to injure a servant, whom Jesus miraculously heals.
Nonetheless, it’s still difficult to adjudicate the “fitting-ness” of this scene in the narrow context of these events between the supper and Jesus’ arrest, for the narrative proceeds at light-speed. Beyond the setting of the dinner and the arrival at the Mount of Olives, there are no textual landmarks to indicate where the 2-3 intervening conversations may have taken place. If the the textual indicators express the full setting, we must assume that the conversation took place either around, or near the table of the dinner.
Finally, an important element to pay attention to is the mention of the fulfillment of prophecy regarding Christ, and in the context of the conversation, the text seems to indicate that there is something of a relationship between the fulfillment of this particular prophecy (Jesus being “numbered among the trespassers”) and the advice which Jesus gives to his disciples to do what is in their means to procure a sword. And even if the sheer act of procurement is not intended to imply the fulfillment of prophecy, the textual proximity of this advice to Jesus’ claims about the fulfillment of Scripture must be taken into account.
Now that we’ve briefly sketched the landscape of the passage, let’s take a look at some of the interpretations.
Figurative Interpretation
Some commentators, like John Gill, suggest that Jesus’ instructions regarding the procurement of swords is not to be taken literally, but rather as something of a figurative explanation of the troubled times that await the disciples in the events that will follow Jesus’ arrest, crucifixion and death. To these interpreters, the mention of articles like the bag, the purse and the sword represent an internal preparedness for trials and tribulations which the disciples will eventually endure. As Gill notes:
These words of Christ are not to be understood literally…but his meaning is, that wherever they came, and a door was opened for the preaching of the Gospel, they would have many adversaries, and these powerful, and would be used with great violence, and be followed with rage and persecution; so that they might seem to stand in need of swords to defend them: the phrase is expressive of the danger they would be exposed to, and of their need of protection…
While the “literality” of the swords seems apparent in the text (after all, the disciples display two of them for Jesus), proponents of this theory argue that the small number of weapons produced, and Jesus’ acknowledgment that this display is “enough,” is not an admission on Christ’s behalf that this show of force is sufficient for what is to come, but is rather a signal that Jesus’ mention of bags and purses and swords is to be taken in a figurative manner.
In regards to the question of pacifism vs. justified violent self-defense, proponents of this interpretation tend to suggest that this passage is not a warrant for circumstantial, physical violence against others. Coupled with Jesus’ verbal and miraculous denunciation of Peter’s violence several lines later, these interpreters argue that Jesus’ intention in telling the disciples to buy swords is to inculcate their understanding with the seriousness of the events that will soon transpire.
Some interpreters in this vein push the idea farther by rendering Jesus’ closing words in a bit different way. In many translations, Jesus’ responds to the display of the two swords with something like “It is enough.” In these alternate renderings, however, Jesus’ response is less declarative and more emphatic, imagined to be something more like “That is enough!”. In this way, Jesus is not approving of their display of the two swords, but is to the contrary expressing frustration at their [continued] inability to grasp the true meaning of what he has been teaching them. And as before, many interpreters feel that such an interpretation is further substantiated through Jesus’ actions in response to Peter’s later violence with [presumably] the same swords that Jesus had already rejected.
The Calculating Messiah
While the figurative approach to the interpretation of this passage significantly downplays the “sword-ness” of the swords (i.e., their utility as weapons, instruments of violence, etc.), another strain of interpretation places a significant amount of emphasis on the nature of the two swords as instruments for fulfilling Christ’s ultimate goals.
In this interpretive paradigm, Christ’s words about procuring swords are taken not only quite literally, but with great immediacy. The reason for the urgency of the command is that these swords are to play a integral part in providing the impetus for Jesus’ arrest. As the interpretation goes, possession and display of a sword in public is to be understood as illegal in Jerusalem, an act of sedition against the powers-that-be. Therefore, the sheer fact of possessing such weapons would be sufficient reason for the authorities to instigate movements to arrest Jesus and suppress the armed insurgency of Jesus’ followers.
But why would Christ want to arouse the ire of the authorities? For proponents of this theory, the answer lies in Jesus’ allusion to the fulfillment of prophecy which he quotes in concert with admonitions for his followers to don weapons of violence. That is, if Jesus is to fulfill the prophecy about being “numbered with the transgressors,” then he must be arrested on grounds of illegality…and the disciples’ illegal possession of weapons would seem to fit this bill.
Interestingly, while this interpretive approach takes Jesus’ words about the swords very literally, it–like the figurative interpretation–is often promoted by those who would also wish to deny any justification of violence on the basis of self-defense. And as with the figurative interpretation, the proponents of this theory also point to the rebuke of Peter’s later violence-with-the-sword as proof. While Jesus is to be understood as advocating the possession of weapons, this advocacy is more of a political and religious calculation intended to bring about a particular end, not a transcendental exposition on the legitimacy of violence against others. Jesus, it is argued, did not intend nor desire for his sword-wielding companions to commit any violence, only to provide the impetus for Christ’s arrest and, concomitantly, his fulfillment of prophecy.
The Literal Interpretation
The final interpretation I want to outline before I discuss my own is the most literal of the three. In this approach, the words are to be taken at face value (whatever that actually means): Jesus instructs his disciples to procure real swords. To these interpreters, the swords are not merely a means to an end of fulfilling prophecy through some obfuscated political calculation; rather, they are swords that are to be used as swords are used.
At this point, these interpreters are quick to point out the nature and normal usages of the swords in question. The Greek words for the swords used here–machaira–indicates something of a short sword, or even dagger. A far cry from the offensive weapon of the soldier, this sword was useful primarily for utility in a variety of scenarios (hunting, cutting, etc.), and partially effective as a means of self-defense against the roaming bandits that littered the roads and by-ways between cities. In this context, then, the literalists argue that Jesus is commanding his disciples to prepare themselves for the coming trouble by not only providing for their resource-needs (money for food, lodging, etc.), but also by securing a means of defense, insignificant as it might be.
With this understanding established, many of these interpreters turn the argument for Christian pacifism upside-down, arguing that in this passage Christ is not only giving license, but moreover directly admonishing his disciples that there is some justification in certain acts of violence for the preservation of their persons. They support this, interestingly enough, by conjuring the events of Christ’s arrest later that night. While the pacifists find Jesus’ rebuke of Peter as a proof for the illegitimacy of violence, the literalists see within the rebuke a loophole. In Matthew 26:56, Jesus tells the attacker-disciple to “put your sword back in its place,” and in John 18:11, Jesus’ rebuke of Peter’s action seems to stem more from Peter’s interference in the unfolding of events, rather than in his act of violence. With these ideas in mind, the proponents of this theory point out that Jesus did not tell Peter to throw his sword away or to otherwise abandon it; only to sheath it. In these words, they see the prospect of the legitimization of violence by Christ-followers in certain circumstances when the sword might be once again unsheathed.
My Own Take
Before I outline my view of this passage, I’ll give away the ending a bit. I’m a pacifist. While those who support the legitimization of Christian violence in particular circumstances might raise the specter of a million horrific and impossible scenarios, I am nonetheless convinced that the trajectory of Jesus’ and the apostles’ teaching compels Christian thinking to embrace a non-violent, non-harmful stance toward all of God’s children–even at the cost of our own lives. In this particular passage, I see Jesus’ overturning of Peter’s judgment of violence through miraculous healing as a nail in the coffin of any effort to legitimize any manner of Christian violence. Like Tertullian, I see that “…the Lord, in disarming Peter, disarmed every soldier.”
But with that conclusion, we are still left with the quite puzzling instance of Jesus’ instruction for the disciples to buy swords and the even more puzzling correlation that is made between this admonition and the fulfillment of prophecy. How are we to understand this? My suggestion is certainly not conventional, but perhaps it will stir some thinking.
First, I think we must remember the context in which this was written. Unique among the Gospels, the book of Luke is something of a narrative-correspondence. As the writer outlines in the introduction, the purpose of the writing is to give the reader an “orderly account” of things which have been investigated personally by the author. While we must certainly not read to much into it, the notion of an “orderly account” raises the prospect that this writing is, at least in some measure, corrective in nature–perhaps to establish an apostolic understanding and perspective on the events of Jesus’ life and his teachings.
With this is in mind, I find it intriguing that this curious passage about swords occurs only in Luke. While the uniqueness of this passage is in itself interesting, what is most intriguing is that it occurs in tandem with an important unveiling of prophetic fulfillment by Christ, something not found specifically in the other gospels. That is, this is not simply a narrative “filler”–the author clearly meant to convey some point through this passage and its linkage to ancient biblical prophecy.
So here’s my suggestion.
By the time of the writing of Luke’s account, the apostolic tradition and authority–as infant as it was–was beginning to shape Christian thought into something unified and systematic. Around this time, as well, persecution of the fledgling church was beginning to increase, and for all intents and purposes, the Christian response was not one of violent resistance, but rather resignation to, and sometimes embrace of, martyrdom in emulation of Christ. In this milieu, the writer’s intention in the narrative is not simply that of the aloof historian merely reciting the “facts” of what transpired. Rather, we see an definite and deliberate infusion of theological interpretation of history intertwined throughout the narrative. Yet lest we find fault with the author, let us remember this is precisely his goal, the exposition of the fulfillment of theological and religious history in the person and work of Christ as preached by the apostles.
In relation to the question of “swords,” then, let’s imagine that Luke, in his research, comes across the story of the disciple’s violence during Jesus’ arrest. In the face of the suffering and martyrdom of the saints for the witness of Christ that are occurring around him, we might understand if he finds it curious to discover the disciples wielding weapons when theirs is to be a message of God’s peace and good will toward humanity.
So perhaps the question for the author was how it is that the disciples came into possession of these weapons? If the assumption of non-violence and the ethic of martyrdom suggested above is a compelling framework for understanding the sitz em laben of the author, then it is reasonable that we might find traces of this viewpoint in the construction of the text and the arguments the author seeks to set forth in his accounting of the life and mission of Christ and the apostles.
In that light, if such a question were posed, we might concluded that the place of this conversation between Jesus and his disciples forms something of a narrative device to hold together the events surrounding Jesus’ arrest with the author’s assumptions about the Christian ethic of non-violence. In such an accounting, Jesus’ conversation with the disciples operates somewhat on the level of the figurative interpretation outlined above in which Jesus’ invocation of the image of “sword” is not intended to encourage the disciples to arm themselves, but to communicate something of what will soon transpire. But unlike the figurative interpretation, my suggestion is that this figurative language is more of a literary retrospective on the events of Jesus’ arrest, rather than a precursor to them. The correlation of the “swords” to the fulfillment of prophecy which Jesus cites is, to the author, a theological rendering of the arrest of Jesus and the curious violence which Peter perpetrates in the midst of it. That is, to the author, the reality of Jesus is so great that even in the strange context of the disciples’ illegitimate violence, we still find the fulfillment of divine prophecy. And it is through the retroactive, narrative correlation of the inappropriate violence to the fulfillment of prophecy that the author finds not only a reasonable explanation for these events, but more importantly a theological justification for the ethic which the suffering, martyr church now embodies.
Conclusion
As we’ve seen, this passage from Luke 22 is interesting in many ways. Not only is it unique in its rendering in the Gospels, but its language and narrative setting are somewhat difficult to parse as well. Through the centuries, this has led to dozens of interpretations. But what is perhaps most interesting is how this text is used in the discussion of the Christian ethical stance toward violence. Should Christians be total pacifists, or should we understand a place in which violence is necessary and justifiable?
Ultimately, I think the text is not clear enough to establish the ethic either way. As we’ve seen in each of the renderings (including my own), the ethical conclusions drawn from the text generally require a prior infusion of ethical assumptions on the interpreter’s behalf. So rather than establishing a Christian ethic regarding violence with any level of clarity on its own merits, we find that the interpretation of this text serves more as a reflection of the interpreter’s assumptions regarding the same. Nonetheless, it is a fascinating exercise in interpretation and poignantly reminds us of how serious our approach to every text must be if we are not to unconsciously read only that which we assume is already there.
Update: For an interesting read on the subject of early Christianity and pacifism, check out this article from Bill Muehlenberg: Were the Early Christians Pacifists?
Print article | This entry was posted by existdissolve on August 6, 2010 at 9:54 pm, and is filed under Theology. Follow any responses to this post through RSS 2.0. You can leave a response or trackback from your own site. |