The sword-violence of Luke’s gospel: An overview of text segments

Introduction

In the 1970s, I spent part of my summers at my grandparents’ home in the Missouri Ozarks. During one of these summer sojourns, outside under a shade tree with my grandfather sitting in a red, metal, lawn chair, whittling a stick, I asked him about his time in the army. He had served as an army private during World War I in France. He described to me some of his experiences, at that time about fifty years removed. Some of his recollections related to basic training and fumbling with a gas mask, seeing his first airplane, KP (Kitchen Patrol, as he said, for minor infractions), and the day the Armistice was signed. I remember saying to him that war was worse now than in 1918—after all, the Vietnam Conflict was happening at that time. He said, “Everyone thinks it’s worse now, but at that moment and at that time, the bullets and weapons were real and bad.”

The people who populated the pages of the New Testament did not contend with guns and high-capacity ammunition magazines, but they had to deal with the first-century equivalents that were “real and bad”: swords. Although today we might consider guns and automatic weapons as a more extreme level of violence, swords were thoroughly devastating weapons in the first-century Mediterranean world. Swords were instruments of violence, destruction, and death: “And out came another horse, bright red; its rider was permitted to take peace from the earth, so that people would slaughter one another; and he was given a great sword” (Rev 6:4, emphasis added). ¹ Swords became synonymous with slaughter.

As swords were woven into the fabric of the ancient world, one would expect to find them referenced in the biblical text, and so it is for both the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament. ² Especially in the New Testament, Luke, of all the Gospels, reflects to a greater degree the role of sword-violence and the theological implications of it. To consider an appropriate Christian response to guns and violence today, one can reflect on how the author of Luke presented the dilemma of sword-violence to his readers. In this analysis of Luke’s engagement with sword-violence, one finds: (i) sword-violence affected both the personal and corporate dimensions of life; (ii) sword-violence created misplaced trust in a false security; and (iii) Jesus’s words about swords, although enigmatic, rejected sword-violence. Taking Luke’s presentation of sword-violence seriously creates a challenge for contemporary Christians who live in the gun culture of the United States.

Sword-violence—Personal and corporate: Luke 2:34–35; 9:7–9; 21:20–24

The first reference to a sword in the Gospel of Luke is unique to this Gospel; it occurs in the interaction between Simeon and Jesus’s parents (2:25–35). After Simeon was presented with the infant Jesus, he blessed the family and also issued this enigmatic warning: “This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul too” (2:34–35, emphasis added). These last jarring words were directed to Mary. Translations often attempt to capture this sword reference as a type of narrative aside or parenthetical remark. This word for “sword” (rhomphaia) is found only once in Luke; other references are in the Apocalypse, where it is used frequently. ³ The rhomphaia was a long or broad sword used for both cutting and piercing. ⁴ This metaphorical sword through Mary’s soul is in contrast to the literal swords referenced in the remainder of Luke. Though various interpretations of the piercing of Mary’s soul exist, the sword-violence experienced by Mary is at the very least a symbol of grief and anguish. ⁵

This text segment illustrates a type of sword-violence that is pointedly personal. ⁶ Sword-violence is an extremely personal encounter between both the victim and the perpetrator. Unlike a sling, javelin, or spear, swords indicate intimacy and proximity to another. The violence caused by a sword is not remote but only inches away. A person sees and experiences the anguished face and dying moment of a sword victim. This personal focus, with the emphasis upon Mary’s pain, is noted by “the fronting of the genitive and the intensive αὐτῆς”: ⁷ “your own soul.”

Rarely explored in commentaries is Mary’s sword-dissected “soul” (Greek psychē). Psychē is more than physical life. Take, for example, the passage in Luke 17:33 (parallels in Mark 8:35; Matt 10:39; John 12:25): “Those who try to make their life (psychē) secure will lose it, but those who lose their life (psychē) will keep it.” One can lose physical life, but something more enduring survives and transcends the cells, corpuscles, and cartilage. The psychē is the essence of a human.

One way to think about the soul, and all the word means, is that the psychē encompasses the entirety of a human (mind, spirit, and body). In the biblical world view, no division exists between mind, spirit, and body. The division of a person into separate parts is a Greek concept that became popular in many later Christian interpretative contexts. Perhaps another way to think of the soul is that a person does not have a soul: a person is a soul. ⁸ So, for Mary the experience of the sword-violence, even though metaphorical, can be understood as violating all the intimate and personal dimensions of who she was as a “soul.”

This personalized trauma of sword-violence is also evident in John the Baptist’s death (Luke 9:7–9). The sword is not mentioned explicitly in this text segment; nevertheless, the particularized outcome of sword-violence is clear. This time the violence is not metaphorical but graphic, physical violence with the arrest, imprisonment, and beheading of John. This violence via the sword is laid squarely on tetrarch Herod Antipas, as the passage makes clear in Herod’s dialogue: “John I beheaded” (Luke 9:9). ⁹ It is doubtful that Herod himself hefted the sword to sever John’s head, ¹⁰ but the responsibility for the sword-violence was his.

Whether metaphorical or literal, Luke captured the personalized impact upon an individual when sword-violence was unleashed. Yet, the author of Luke also illustrated the corporate dimensions of suffering and violence via the sword. Luke 2:34 hints at the corporate nature of sword-violence with the “falling and the rising of many,” but the community effect of sword-violence is found most explicitly in Luke 21:20–24. In this narrative, Jesus delivers a prescient oracle regarding the destruction and distress of Jerusalem: “[the people of Jerusalem] will fall by the edge of the sword and be taken away as captives among all the nations” (21:24a, emphasis added). The term used for sword here is the more common word for sword in Luke: machaira, which is a short sword (sometimes associated with a dagger) used for cutting and stabbing. ¹¹ The oracle of Jesus finds its fulfillment in the destruction of Jerusalem a generation later by the Romans in 70 CE. The Judean historian Josephus, eyewitness to vivid scenes of sword-violence upon the inhabitants of Jerusalem, writes, “Pouring into the alleys, sword in hand, they massacred indiscriminately all whom they met, and burnt the houses with all who had taken refuge within” (Jewish War, 6. 403–407). ¹²

The author of Luke in brief and poignant scenes illustrates how sword-violence can have a traumatic effect upon a person or a whole community. Contemporary research confirms that the same is true today regarding the impact of gun violence. Especially upon young children and teens, gun violence can affect the whole of the psychē (body, spirit, and mind). These effects can take forms including physical illness, depression, and difficulty learning. ¹³ Like individuals, communities also can be caught up in the gun culture, with ramifications for health and security. James Atwood notes that, though an individual might escape being a personal victim of gun violence, “it is impossible to escape the poisonous atmosphere scores of guns create in one’s community . . . When a community is flooded with guns, the environment resembles that of a war zone and people’s psyches are perpetually being scarred.” ¹⁴

Sword-violence—Misplaced trust: Luke 11:21–22; 22:52–53

In Luke 11:14–23, Jesus was charged by some in a crowd with casting out demons by the power of Beelzebul, “the ruler of demons.” He responded to the challenge by giving a series of three rebuttals (vv 17–18; vv 19–20; vv 21–23). Jesus’s last parry was a brief parabolic illustration about a strongly armed man who is guarding property (vv 21–22). Though the term “sword” is not used in the text segment, the implied weapon is likely a sword. Luke writes that the strong man is “fully armed” (v 21), and when he becomes overpowered, his “armor” is taken away (v 22). This verb for “fully armed” (kathoplizō) is used only here in the New Testament and captures the idea of extreme measures, that is, being “armed to the teeth.” Likewise, the term for “armor” (panoplia) is a rare word in the New Testament, found only here and in Eph 6:11, 13.

Although the word “sword” does not appear explicitly in the parabolic illustration, it is implied. What is explicit, however, is that the one who trusts in the sword has a misplaced trust: “But when one stronger than he attacks him and overpowers him, he takes away his armor (panoplia) in which he trusted . . .” (v 22, emphasis added). Though the focus of this illustration in its context is to support a victorious Jesus in a cosmic battle with Satan (see the allusion to Satan falling like lightning in Luke 10:18), at least on a secondary level this story also speaks to sword-violence. This secondary meaning in the passage is what I call “incidental exegesis.” The focus of the passage is not specifically related to arms or swords; in undergirding the main point, however, another incidental point is revealed. For this passage, the incidental reveal is that trust in sword-violence is misplaced and distorted when it attempts to find security and peace with a weapon. Such misplaced trust is a form of idolatry. ¹⁵ This false security turns one away from God and the ways of peace toward a trust in violence as the way of salvation. François Bovon summarizes this idolatry quite well when he notes, “Placing confidence in arms instead of God is a theme of the Hebrew Bible.” ¹⁶

In the narrative of Jesus’s betrayal and arrest (Luke 22:47–53), Luke further emphasizes that dependence upon sword-violence allies itself with the darkness of the present age. In this narrative, Jesus confronts those who have come to arrest him, that is, the chief priests, officers of the temple police, and elders. They have brought with them the instruments in which they trust: “swords and clubs” (v 52a). Jesus challenges them for the choices (trust) they have made and says, “. . . this is your hour, and the power of darkness” (v 53b). Unsurprisingly, this group comes at night, because both their motives and their weapons represent “the power of darkness” (v 53b). Jesus’s condemnation of the power of darkness reminds a reader of the contrasting theology of hope found in Zechariah’s Benedictus: “By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace” (Luke 1:78–79).

As one reads these passages about “trusting” in sword-violence for peace and security, one hears echoes of contemporary slogans often voiced by those who trust in guns: “I carry to keep from being killed.” “More guns, less crime.” “The only thing that stops a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun.” And appearing as the caption under a picture of a handgun: “Putting on an extra pound and a half could actually extend your life.” As the data and statistics indicate, one is not more secure with a gun but less secure. ¹⁷ Yet, the false confidence to ally “salvation” with the sword of today, a gun, is an overwhelming pull into the darkness of the present age.

In Luke’s theological outlook, Joel Green notes that many forces in Luke’s narrative compete for allegiance and trust. This competition has “an important function within the narrative. It is an important means by which persons are confronted with the invitation to align themselves with God’s purpose.” ¹⁸ As Green indicates, individuals in Luke’s story have the freedom to “. . . embrace or reject the divine aim.” ¹⁹ In a gun-saturated culture today, contemporary individuals are also confronted with the option either to reject the power of darkness which allies itself with a false god of metal that promises peace and security or to embrace God’s divine aim of peace.

Sword-violence—What Jesus said: Luke 22:35–38; 22:47–51

Perhaps no passages related to sword-violence are more debated and problematic than the ones in Luke 22. In verses 35–38, Jesus is gathered with his disciples in Jerusalem in the upper room celebrating the Passover meal. He instructs his disciples to sell one’s cloak to buy a sword (v 36). ²⁰ The ever eager disciples indicate to Jesus that they already have two swords (v 38). ²¹ Jesus’s reply to the disciples, “It is enough” (v 38), is an enigmatic response begging for an interpretation.

Though the interpretations of this passage are many, they typically fall into two broad categories: literal and symbolic. The literal interpretation, and variations on it, understand that Jesus is clearly asking the disciples to sell a personal article of clothing, a cloak, in order to arm themselves. The disciples certainly understood Jesus as speaking literally; they replied, “We have two swords.” Jesus’s retort to them can be understood to mean, “Good, that’s enough.” ²² On the other hand, others take this phrase, “It is enough,” as having an ironic meaning, such as, “enough talk of swords.” In this view, Jesus is dismissing the silly notion that two swords would be enough.

One who is representative of and advocates for the literal perspective, “Good, that’s enough,” is David Lertis Matson. ²³ He posits that the Lukan sword texts highlight the point that “nothing must deter God’s salvific plan.” ²⁴ In Matson’s reading of Luke 22:38, “taking up the sword ensures Jesus’s safe transit to the Mount of Olives in prayerful preparation for his ensuing arrest; in Luke 22:51, putting away the sword ensures that the arrest will proceed.” ²⁵

On the other hand, many commentators note the symbolic reading of this passage. Raymond Brown is representative of this perspective: “The items mentioned as preparation [Luke 22:36], namely, purse, bag, and sword, are quasi-symbolic ways of concretizing the necessary readiness for such contingencies.” ²⁶ In this symbolic reference to swords, Brown notes in a footnote:

One may add that [the disciples] have not been the only ones to misunderstand: This text has been (mis)-used as a general declaration of the right of Christians to bear arms; as support for the right of the medieval papacy to exercise both material and spiritual power (two swords); and as proof that Jesus encouraged armed revolution! ²⁷

Between these two approaches of literal or symbolic, perhaps the best option is that both the literal and symbolic are possible. Such an approach makes the most sense of the context of the passage, especially the Isaiah 53:12 reference, and of the whole of Luke’s Gospel with its emphasis upon peace. Christopher R. Hutson captures this blending of the literal and symbolic approaches in what he terms “playacting.” ²⁸ Hutson’s thesis is that

. . . in [Jesus’s] showdown with the forces of rebellion against God, Jesus is role-playing the Suffering Servant in Isa 53. The key to the two swords passage is Jesus’s quotation of Isa 53:12. Jesus is talking about literal swords, but not for armed resistance. Rather, he will use the words, purses, and knapsacks as props in an impromptu, late-night performance of Isa 53:12. ²⁹

By enacting a prophetic message, Jesus was encouraging his disciples to gather props for his symbolic acting out of Isa 53:12. ³⁰ The swords were real, and the symbolic meaning was real, but sword-violence was never intended to be a part of the prophetic play.

If Huston’s perspective is correct, this passage certainly cannot be used for advocating arming oneself today. This scene was unique to Luke’s understanding of Jesus’s fulfillment of Isa 53:12, that is, that Jesus would fulfill Scripture by being “counted among the lawless” (22:37). In fact, this passage could illustrate the disastrous outcome when one misunderstands and embraces sword-violence. The disciples misunderstood Jesus’s prophetic “playacting,” and a disciple used the sword not as a prop but as a wounding weapon, cutting off the ear of the high priest’s servant (22:50). This sword-violence created a real and tragic consequence. Jesus decisively condemned the sword-violence with, “No more of this!” (22:51), and he touched and healed the servant’s ear. Of all the Gospel accounts of this episode (parallels Matt 26:47–56; Mark 14:43–52; John 18:2–12), the Lukan presentation has the most direct and passionate depiction of Jesus’s horror in response to this act of sword-violence.

Sword-violence: What Jesus did not say

If the author of Luke portrays a Jesus vehemently vocal about “no more of this” sword-violence, the author also provides an anti-sword-violence message by omitting some words from Jesus’s lips. Though Matthew and Luke typically follow the Q-source, a significant instance exists in which they diverge, and Luke omits a Q-saying or at least modifies it. In Matt 10:34 one finds Jesus saying to his disciples, “Do not think that I have come to bring peace on earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.” Luke 12:51 follows the first part of the saying, “Do you think that I have come to give peace on earth?” but it omits, in the second half, the reference to bringing a sword: “No, I tell you, but rather division.” Perhaps Luke was fearful that individuals might take Jesus’s words literally, and so he excised the sword metaphor and instead substituted the word “division.” Though the meaning is the same, that is, a description regarding the consequence for the kinship network for those who choose to follow Jesus, Luke’s use of “division” allows for no literalist to seize a sword. Certainly, as noted above on Luke 22:50 regarding the swashbuckling disciples, sword language could be taken literally and lead to tragic consequences.

Conclusion

The writer of Luke, with a few brief but powerful sword-violence scenes, demonstrates for readers how devastating sword-violence could be upon both the personal and corporate dimensions of life. The writer also deftly challenges readers to avoid placing their faith in swords for security and to choose light over an alliance with darkness. And finally, with Jesus’s words against sword-violence, the Gospel writer rejects taking up the sword as a choice for Jesus’s followers. Although Luke’s presentation of sword-violence is nuanced, socially and theologically conditioned, and at times enigmatically presented, it still provides a biblical path for those who would challenge a contemporary gun culture as found in the United States.

Perhaps Justin Martyr (100–165 CE) caught both the depth and meaning of Luke’s understanding of sword-violence when he described the early Christians and their rejection of swords:

We who were filled with war and mutual slaughter and every wickedness have each through the whole world changed our warlike weapons—our swords into plowshares and our spears into implements of tillage and we cultivate piety, righteousness, philanthropy, faith and hope. (Dialogue with Trypho 110.3)

These words stand as a challenge also for contemporary folks to transform their trust in guns into the plowshares of faith so that all might “cultivate piety, righteousness, philanthropy, faith and hope.”