it has seemed good to *me* also, accurately acquainted from the origin with all things, to write to thee with method, most excellent Theophilus,
Luke opens his Gospel with a personal note. He explains why he is writing, and to whom. Three questions sit behind these plain words: what knowledge Luke claims, what "orderly" means here, and who Theophilus was.
Luke says the writing "seemed good to me." That was his own decision. Commentators hold two things together: the choice was Luke's, and the result is God's provision for everyone.
Luke had followed these things from the beginning, and so gained exact knowledge about them. He thought it well to write methodically to Theophilus, so that Theophilus might have certainty about the things he had been taught. This is how God has provided teaching for the whole church. That teaching lies in the picture of the Lord's life given by this man of God. Christian motives moved this man personally, and the Holy Spirit directed and inspired him for the good of all believers.
Luke himself was not thinking about inspiration while he worked.
Luke's introduction shows that he was concerned about giving exact information in this letter to Theophilus. But he had not thought of being an instrument directly inspired by God... God had ordered that Luke was to write Scripture, and He laid hold of him for this purpose. Luke never realized that God was inspiring him. Therefore we may expect depths and beauties in this book that Luke himself had not designed.
Older versions render this phrase "having had perfect knowledge." One writer traces that word to Paul's use of it elsewhere.
The word translated "having had perfect knowledge" in Luke 1 is the same word as in 2 Timothy 3:10. There Paul says Timothy had fully known everything about him. Now this means "personal acquaintance with." Luke said he had this from the outset. He does not say how, and I do not pretend to say. Others got their accounts from eyewitnesses. Luke does not say that about himself. He only says that he had thorough, personal, detailed and accurate acquaintance with everything from the very beginning.
Some have read this preface as an admission that Luke was only a careful human historian. The same words led one writer to the opposite conclusion:
Now Luke does not say a word about setting in order what eyewitnesses have delivered: others, he said, had done that. But that was not enough. He wrote his Gospel so that Theophilus might have certainty from him, the man who had "perfect knowledge" of all things. This is surely a clear statement that his account was infallible. And if it was infallible, it must have been inspired, for no human account can be infallible.
The word behind "an orderly account" is also rendered "with method." Readers who expect a strict diary of dates find something else.
God had given him a perfect understanding of all things from the outset. So now he wrote them "in order," or "with method." We shall see as we go on that he sometimes ignores historical order. Instead he presents things in a method that is moral and spiritual. Understanding that moral and spiritual order, along with having the facts clearly in writing, would bring certainty to Theophilus, as it will to us.
This is not carelessness but design, and it becomes a tool for reading the book.
Another thing is remarkable. Examine the Gospel and you will find that Luke states circumstances not according to their chronological order, but according to their moral connection. The necessary facts of His birth and death are the exception. This gives us a most important key to interpretation.
The title "most excellent" is an official one, not a compliment on his character.
Theophilus appears to have been a man of rank, probably a Roman governor. This seems to be why Luke calls him here "Most Excellent," or, as we might say, His Excellency. It relates to official position, not to his character morally as a man. It is clear he was a believer, but only partly instructed. The Evangelist's object here was to give him a fuller understanding of "the way."
Some have suggested the name is a symbol for any God-loving reader. One writer answers that on two grounds:
Further, we have never heard of anyone, in old or modern times, who imagines the name to be a made-up label for anyone who loves God. Compare the Gospel with Acts: the writer addresses both to a living Christian. And if the name were only a label, the form of the word would have been philotheos (as in Timotheus or the like), and not Theophilos.
Luke alone addresses his Gospel to a named person, and that shapes the whole book.
Luke was led by God as one who had a thirst and loving desire for the good of Theophilus, and he fittingly addresses this Gospel to him: and we shall find this in keeping with its character throughout. It was not for him only, of course, but for the lasting instruction of the Church; yet none the less was it written to him.
- Motive — Luke wrote because it "seemed good" to him, out of love for one man. God used that choice to give the whole church a picture of the Lord's life.
- Knowledge — Luke does not claim he collected other people's reports. He claims thorough, accurate, personal acquaintance with everything from the very beginning.
- Order — "orderly" means arranged by moral connection, not by date. That key unlocks how the Gospel groups its events.
- Reader — Theophilus was a real man with an official title, already a believer but only partly taught.
- Result — Luke aimed at certainty: solid ground under what Theophilus had already been told.
that thou mightest know the certainty of those things in which thou hast been instructed.
Luke names his aim in the last words of his opening sentence: Theophilus, a man already taught about Jesus, is meant to know for sure. That raises two questions — where does certainty about Christ come from, and why did it need to be written down?
Of the four Gospel writers, only Luke addresses his account to a named man. Kelly weighs whether the other three could have done the same.
This, I believe, is why Luke alone opens his Gospel by addressing one particular man. Matthew could not have addressed his Gospel to a man and kept it true to its purpose and character; and you cannot imagine Mark or John doing it either… Of course it was not for Theophilus only, but for the lasting instruction of the Church; yet it was still written to him. Theophilus lay on the heart of that godly man, so that he might be taught the things of God.
One man's book became God's provision for the whole church.
So God has provided for the teaching of the whole church, through the doctrine held in the picture of the Lord's life that this man of God gives us. Christian motives moved him personally, and the Holy Spirit guided and inspired him for the good of all believers.
Theophilus was not starting from zero. Kelly quotes another writer's summary of Luke's aim:
Luke does not intend to enlarge the knowledge of Theophilus, but to confirm it.
The word behind "taught" points to a definite kind of teaching. Older translations render it "instructed".
"You have been instructed" (katechethes), that is "catechised," as said of Apollos in Acts 18:25… Wright asks: "Did the Gospel originate in the pulpit or in the schoolroom?"
That kind of teaching has a familiar shape today.
It must have been very much the instruction that now is given in Bible classes for adults and in Sunday schools or children's services.
Theophilus had heard living teachers. Luke's written account did something the teachers themselves could not do.
The preached word works in people, and they turn to the written word for "the certainty of the things" they believed, as Luke's Gospel puts it. So the written word gave certainty where the teaching, the living voice, had already been. It was not the teacher interpreting the word and giving it living power. It was the word giving certainty about what they had been taught.
Luke's word for certainty here is asphaleia. Kelly turns that word back on the writer himself.
"The certainty" (asphaleian). Compare Luke's use of to asphales in Acts 22:30. A man who is to give certainty to others must first have it himself. How can anyone question this Gospel writer's claim and still sound reasonable?
Not everyone reads Luke's preface that way.
People who do not believe in inspiration often object here. They say the writer of this introduction stands on the ground of an eyewitness and nothing more. But Luke does not say a word about setting out in order what eyewitnesses had delivered. Others, he said, had done that. That was not enough. He wrote his Gospel so that Theophilus might have certainty from him — the man who had "perfect knowledge" of all things. That is a clear statement that his account was infallible. And if so, it was certainly inspired, for no human account can be infallible.
This is why his work was needed: "If the 'many' who undertook the work had done it with the certainty required, there would have been no need for him" (William Kelly).
What Luke wrote for one reader still does its work.
As we go on we will see that he sometimes ignores historical order, so as to present things in a way that is moral and spiritual. Understanding that moral and spiritual order, and having the facts clearly in writing, would bring certainty to Theophilus, and it will bring it to us too. We see here how certainty is linked with the Holy Writings — the Word of God. If we did not have the Holy Writings, we would be certain of nothing.
Certainty also asks something of the reader: "What is revealed is meant to be searched into, and only then will we know that we know" (Plumstead Conference).
- Taught. A living voice had already taught Theophilus, the way a class is taught today.
- Written. Luke did not aim to add to what Theophilus knew. He aimed to confirm it, and he anchored the spoken lesson in a written record.
- Certain. The written word gives the certainty, not the teacher standing over it.
- Inspired. No one can give a certainty he does not have. Commentators read Luke's claim here as a claim to an infallible, inspired account, not just a well-researched one.
- Ours. The letter to one man became the Church's lasting instruction. Without the Holy Writings we would be certain of nothing, and what is written still rewards a search.