And it came to pass in those days that he went out into the mountain to pray, and he spent the night in prayer to God.
Only Luke records this night. Before Jesus named the twelve men who would carry His work forward, He spent the whole night in prayer. Why that night, and why pray at all, since He is the Son of God?
The verse opens by looking back. The religious leaders were enraged, and they had begun plotting His death. Jesus answered that by turning to God.
When that failed, they were filled with rage, and they began to plot His death. As their hatred grew, Jesus withdrew to be alone with God. In the last chapter we saw Him going away to pray when crowds pressed around Him and success seemed to be His. He does just the same when dark clouds of opposition gather around Him. In every circumstance prayer was the resource of the perfect Man.
The hostility was only half the reason. A new work was about to begin.
The open hostility of the religious leaders led our Lord to special prayer. He turns from man to God. But there was another reason. He was about to call others to take up the work He had been doing, and to carry it to the ends of the earth… This special prayer suited both the evil on man's side and the fresh mission of grace on God's part.
Some have tried to identify the hill by name, since the older text carries "the mountain" rather than "a mountain." Kelly rejects the idea:
As to the definite article before "mountain," see note 39 on Mark (3:13). It is not a particular mountain, as Wetstein and others have supposed.
The striking thing is not that a man prayed all night, but that this Man did. He had every right to act on His own authority, and chose instead to wait on His Father.
This night was not an exception in Luke's account, and the contrast with our own instincts is sharp.
The next verse tells us what came of it: twelve apostles chosen at daybreak. One writer pictures what filled the hours:
Think of how He spent the whole night in prayer before choosing His twelve apostles. He went over every case with the Father.
One of the twelve would later betray Him. Hole meets that problem head on:
It is also significant that the choice of the twelve men who would be sent out as Apostles followed this night of prayer. Judas Iscariot was one of them, and to us it is a mystery why he was included. Yet the Lord chose him, and so his selection was right. There was no mistake after that night of prayer.
The choice itself was a public verdict on the scribes, the official teachers of the law.
Luke alone records that night of prayer. It was an important moment in the work given Him to do. By choosing the twelve, the Lord openly declared that He rejected the scribes as fit teachers of the truth He had come to make known.
Writers draw a plain rule from this night for anyone who serves.
Here is a solemn truth about ministry: the only time Scripture records the Lord spending a night in prayer was before He chose the twelve. In any service, however small, we must be with Him before we are sent out. We need to be "sent," and sent by Him.
- Pressure — His enemies plotted, and He withdrew to God instead of arguing. Prayer was His resource under attack, as it had been in success.
- Dependence — He leaned wholly on His Father, though He was free of men. That is what a perfect Man looks like: the opposite of self-reliance.
- Night — He gave the whole night to the Father before naming a single man, going over every case with Him.
- Dawn — the choice that followed was right, Judas included. That night of prayer left no mistake behind it.
- Mission — the twelve began a new order of ministry, and the pattern still stands: be with Him first, then go as one He sends.
And when it was day he called his disciples, and having chosen out twelve from them, whom also he named apostles
Opposition from Israel's religious leaders had hardened, and Jesus answered it with a whole night of prayer. Then He picked twelve men out of a larger group of followers and gave them a new name: why twelve, why these men, and what does that name mean?
Luke records what came first. One writer ties the prayer to the hostility of that moment:
Before He chose the twelve Apostles He spent the whole night in prayer. It was "in those days," the days when they were rejecting Him. At that time the perfect Man found His refuge in God. He sought His presence and relied on Him for guidance. The Gospel of Luke has much to say about the prayers of the Lord Jesus. His prayers express the dependence of His perfect humanity.
The timing carries a message. Israel already had its recognised teachers, and the Lord passed over them:
We have seen that the recognised teachers among the Jews refused to receive the Lord and His teaching. If they could, they would have got rid of Him. So He now called the twelve, whom He named Apostles. Later He would send them out to preach the good news of the kingdom. God's work would not suffer because the scribes and Pharisees kept opposing the prophet Moses had written about... By choosing the twelve, the Lord openly declared that the scribes were not fit teachers of the truth He had come to give.
Another writer sees a new channel opening for God's grace, because the old one could not hold it:
Having spent the night in prayer, when it was day He called His disciples to Him. Now we get the new order of ministry. Judaism is set aside as a vessel unfit to hold the new wine. The Lord ordains new ministers. The temple and synagogue services, the scribes and Pharisees, could not serve as ministers of this grace that was now flowing. So the Lord sets it aside and chooses new instruments.
The verse holds two groups: the wider body He called, and the twelve He picked out of them. The words themselves mark the difference:
There is a very distinct difference. We read, "He called His disciples and chose from them twelve, whom He named apostles" (Luke 6:13). The word "disciple" means "one taught" or "trained." The word "apostle" means "one sent out." Every true follower of the Lord was a disciple. But He sent out only the twelve as apostles. Theirs was a special place, therefore, of authority and service.
The name also fixes a date. The office starts here, not later:
As Luke tells us, the Lord Himself names these chosen ones "apostles" (Luke 6:13). It is worth remembering that He used this title for them from the first. So the office of apostle, as far as the twelve are concerned, started before the church was founded.
Being sent came second. What they gained first was time with Him:
The work was not held back; it increased. In the morning He called His disciples together and chose twelve to be called apostles. These had the honour of being His special witnesses and representatives in the work of His grace. They were to be with Him, and so gain the priceless experience of learning His character and ways. Later that would fit them for use in establishing Christianity in the world.
The number is not random. One writer ties it to Israel itself:
The number twelve, we believe, clearly marks their relation to the twelve tribes of Israel.
The twelve include the man who would hand Him over. That raises a hard question, and one writer takes it head on:
But why did such a man get a place among the Apostles? If the Lord could foresee what Judas would do, why did He choose him?... He now spoke of that same one, still unnamed, and showed why he was counted among the Twelve — so that the Scripture might be fulfilled. The treachery Judas was about to show had been foreknown, and predicted too.
- Prayer first. The choice came out of a whole night with God. Dependence on the Father stands behind the twelve names.
- Rejection answered. Hostility from the scribes did not stop the work. It moved the Lord to appoint new men, because the old vessel could not hold the new wine.
- Named, not volunteering. "Disciple" means one taught; "apostle" means one sent. All His followers were disciples. Only twelve were apostles, and He gave them that title Himself.
- With Him first. Their training was nearness. They learned His character and ways, and later carried the work into the world.
- Twelve, and one a traitor. The number ties them to Israel's twelve tribes. Judas among them fulfils what Scripture had already predicted.
Simon, to whom also he gave the name of Peter, and Andrew his brother, [and] James and John, [and] Philip and Bartholomew,
Jesus prayed all night on the mountain, then chose twelve disciples and named them apostles — this verse begins the roll call with six of them. Why did the choice come at this moment, and why does Simon receive a new name at the head of the list?
Israel's religious teachers had already turned against Him. One writer reads the choice of the twelve as the Lord's public verdict on them.
We have seen that the recognised teachers among the Jews refused to receive the Lord and His teaching. They would have got rid of Him if they could. So He now called the twelve and named them Apostles, to send them out later to preach the good news of the kingdom. God's work was not going to suffer because the scribes and Pharisees kept opposing the prophet Moses had written about... Before choosing them, He went up a mountain to pray, and He continued all night in prayer to God. Only Luke records that night of prayer. It was a moment of importance in the work given Him to do. For the choice of the twelve was the Lord's open declaration that He rejected the scribes as fit teachers of the truth He had come to communicate.
The title is not decorative. It points past the men to the One who sent them.
He answers their attitude by gathering His disciples around Him. He chooses twelve of them as His "apostles," or "sent ones," to be the witnesses and heralds of the new Kingdom coming in.
The new name has a plain meaning, and it reached Simon in two languages.
Simon received a new name from the Lord, meaning a stone or a rock. In Aramaic, the language the Lord usually spoke, this name was Kephas, or Cephas (John 1:42; 1 Cor. 1:12; Gal. 2:9), and in Greek, Peter (Matt. 16:17).
Renaming a man was never a small act in Scripture, and one writer traces what it said about ownership.
Changing a name always implied that the person renamed was under the authority of the one who renamed him (see Gen. 17:5-15; Gen. 32:28; Gen. 35:10; Gen. 41:45; Dan. 1:7; Dan. 5:12). At that moment the Lord told Simon: You belong to Me; from this minute you are Mine... And what is a stone? A piece of a rock! And who was the rock? Christ.
Simon's name stands first here and in every other list. Commentators are careful about what that does and does not prove.
His name always comes first on the list (see Matt. 10:2; Mark 3:16; Luke 6:14; John 21:2); not that he had any authority over the others, or was made a kind of primate, as Rome would like to teach us. His natural fervour and warm-hearted, impulsive earnestness always put him in the front rank. If there is a question, Peter usually asks it; if there is a confession of who the Lord is, Peter is the spokesman.
Simon and Andrew, James and John, Philip and Bartholomew. Family ties and earlier links run right through the list.
The names are in pairs, six pairs, because the Lord sent them out two by two. It seems He did not disregard the natural or spiritual ties that link men together. Simon and Andrew are brothers, and Simon had been led to Jesus by his brother: here there were both links. The sons of Zebedee come next. Then Philip and Bartholomew, the latter thought to be that Nathanael whom Philip had brought to the Lord.
Bartholomew is a family name, not a personal one. One writer holds that we meet the same man elsewhere under his own name.
Bartholomew. This was the apostle's patronymic, that is, his family name or surname; and it occurs in all four lists. Nathanael was most probably his personal name, meaning the "gift of God." Before the Lord's public ministry, he confessed Him as Son of God and King of Israel (John 1:49)... Of him the Lord said, "Behold, an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no deceit!" (John 1:47).
John's Gospel fills in how both men came to Jesus.
Andrew was a disciple of John the Baptist. He left him to follow Jesus, and afterwards told his own brother the joyful news that the Messiah was found... Philip was also from Bethsaida, a fact stated twice in John's Gospel (John 1:44; John 12:21). He was one of the Lord's early disciples, called by Him, as it says, Jesus "found Philip and said to him, 'Follow me'" (John 1:43).
- Prayer first. A night of prayer on the mountain came before the list of names. This was an important moment in the Lord's work.
- Chosen against opposition. Israel's teachers had refused Him. So He set them aside and gave the message of the kingdom to twelve men of His own choosing.
- Named, then sent. "Apostle" means "sent one"; the title is a commission, marking these men as heralds of the kingdom that was coming in.
- Renamed, so owned. Simon became Peter, "a stone" — a piece of the Rock, who is Christ, and a sign that he now belonged to Him.
- First, not over. Peter heads every list. Writers point to his warmth and eagerness as the reason, not to any rank above the rest. The Lord sent the twelve out two by two, brother beside brother.
[and] Matthew and Thomas, James the [son] of Alphaeus and Simon who was called Zealot,
Two of the men named here could not be less alike: one collected taxes for Rome, the other joined a party sworn to drive Rome out. Luke tells no story about either — so why these names, and why so little?
The choice came at a turning point. One writer reads it as the Lord's public verdict on the scribes as teachers.
The moment had come for the selection of the twelve out of the company of His disciples. But before doing that, He went into a mountain to pray, and continued all night in prayer to God. That night of prayer Luke alone records. By choosing the twelve the Lord declared openly that He rejected the scribes as fit teachers of the truth He had come to give.
Three other lists of the twelve appear in Scripture.
We get a list of them in Matthew, Mark, Luke, and the Acts. In each case Peter is first, and Judas last, except where Matthias takes his place. These little undesigned coincidences are very comforting, since they show what we believe so heartily — the full inspiration of the Scriptures. The names are grouped in three fours; twelve is a complete number. Philip is always the first of the second four, who are always grouped together, while James the son of Alphaeus is always the first of the last four.
This Matthew appears earlier in Luke under a different name and a different job.
The son of Alphaeus and one of the twelve apostles. He was a tax collector for the Romans, called 'publican' in the older translation. He left his office as soon as the Lord called him, and he gave Him a feast. Everyone accepts that he wrote the gospel that bears his name… He is called LEVI in Mark 2:14; Luke 5:27, 29.
His trade carried a heavy social cost.
The Jews deeply resented paying taxes to the Romans, and they counted the collectors unworthy of any respect. This is why 'publicans and sinners' are often classed together. The religious people mocked the Lord for entering their houses. They sneered, calling Him "a friend of tax collectors and sinners." But God's grace was for all, and Matthew was called from his tax office to be one of the apostles.
His name is a description, and one writer supplies nearly all we know of him.
The name Thomas means "a twin," and so does Didymus, the name John uses for him three times. After his call and appointment, only John tells us anything about him. When the Lord spoke of going to Bethany, Thomas said to the other disciples, "Let us also go, that we may die with him" (John 11:16). The Lord was teaching the apostles that He would soon leave, and that they knew the way. Thomas broke in: "Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?" (John 14:5). His refusal to believe the news of the resurrection has become proverbial (John 20:24-31).
He is named in every list of the twelve and nowhere else for certain. Whether a later James in Acts is the same man is not settled.
These are the only passages where this apostle is spoken of with certainty. But Acts shows a James at Jerusalem after the death of the son of Zebedee, and he holds something like first place there. At the conference about not enforcing the law on the Gentiles, he spoke with a measure of authority. This suggests he was an apostle, the son of Alphaeus, and most probably the writer of the Epistle of James.
Luke's word for this Simon is a translation, not a new title.
In "Zealot" we have the substitution of a Greek name for a Hebrew one. Matthew 10:4 has "Cananaean." The Zealots were the most extreme and violent of the Pharisees. The Jewish historian states that they originated in Galilee.
The party looked back to a hero of Israel's past, and its record ended in disgrace.
They stood out for their fierce defence of the ritual law given through Moses. They saw themselves as the successors of Phinehas, the priest who killed Zimri and Cozbi in zeal for the honour of God (Numbers 25). Pretending to the same zeal, they took to themselves the right to put to death a blasphemer, an adulterer, or any notorious offender, without the ordinary forms of law… But their zeal soon sank into every kind of immorality and wild excess. They became the pests of every class of society.
- Prayer first. The Lord prayed all night before naming the twelve. That choice declared the scribes unfit to teach His truth.
- Order kept. In all four lists Peter comes first and Judas last. James the son of Alphaeus always heads the final group. Such small agreements point to the full inspiration of Scripture.
- Grace reaches down. Matthew collected taxes for Rome, and Jews classed such men with sinners. He left the desk at once, and he wrote a Gospel.
- Grace reaches across. Simon came from the opposite extreme — a party that claimed the zeal of Phinehas and put offenders to death without trial. Both men followed the same Master.
- Silence is not failure. Of Thomas we hear only through John; of James and Simon, almost nothing at all. What marks them is being chosen, not being written about.
[and] Judas [brother] of James, and Judas Iscariote, who was also [his] betrayer;
The list of the twelve closes with two men who share a name. One is known by his link to James. The other is marked forever by what he did to his Master. The verse raises a hard question: how could a traitor stand in that chosen company?
Luke separates the two by adding a family link to the first. That link is also how John keeps them apart when this quieter apostle finally speaks.
From Matthew we learn that Lebbaeus was surnamed Thaddaeus (Matt. 10:3), while Luke, in his Gospel and in the Acts, gives a further name of this apostle, that is, Judas [the son or brother] of James. John records a question of his, and marks him off from the traitor of the same name: "Judas (not Iscariot) says to Him, Lord, how is it that You will manifest Yourself to us, and not to the world?" (John 14:22). There is no further reference to him by name in the New Testament.
The Greek says only "Judas of James." There is no word for son or brother, so translators must choose. Commentators differ, and one writer links the choice to the letter of Jude and warns against settling it too fast.
If we hold the contrary opinion — that the writer was an apostle — then we must translate the idiom in Luke 6:16 and Acts 1:13 as the Authorised Version does: "Jude [the brother] of James," to agree with Jude 1. The Revised Version has instead "Jude [the son] of James." And yet in an earlier case the same idiom comes out as "James [the son] of Alpheus." So the identification calls for patient discrimination, not hasty dogmatism.
The wording about Iscariot is precise. The Greek verb describes something that developed, not a label fixed on him from the start.
"Judas," so John 14:22. The same, it is supposed, as Matthew's "Thaddeus," "was the"; American Revisers rightly "became a" (or, "proved," ἐγένετο).
The choice was not an oversight. The One who made it already knew the man.
Among the twelve is Judas the traitor. He was called to be an apostle so that the Scriptures might be fulfilled. The Lord knew him from the beginning. He was not a believer in the Deity of our Lord; Judas never called Him Lord. A very old commentary gives the following suggestion: "Judas is chosen so that the Lord might have an enemy among His attendants. For a man is perfect when he has no reason to fear the watching eye of a wicked man who knows all his ways."
We may not see the reason. The choice was still right.
Among the twelve was Judas Iscariot. Why he was there seems mysterious to us. The Lord chose him, however, and so his selection was right. No mistake was made after that night of prayer.
The Psalms had already spoken of the betrayal. The eleven still never saw it coming.
The New Testament points us to three different Psalms (Ps. 41; 69; 109) as applying to him... His treachery, then, was distinctly the subject of prophecy; and he was chosen among the twelve so that the word of God might be fulfilled (John 13:18). Yet who ever looked for a traitor in that company?... They asked among themselves who would do it. The question, "Is it I?" came from each one. It showed they could not imagine that any of their number could be guilty of such baseness and wickedness.
Luke names the twelve two by two, and the final pair is striking — the man who would write about apostasy stands beside the man who committed it.
In Mark 6:7 we read that the Lord sent out the twelve two by two. In Luke 6:14-16 the apostles come in pairs. Put the two together, and we learn something striking: Judas Iscariot, the first apostate from Christ, went out on that mission with Jude — the very prophet whose message would be the Christian apostasy. This is all the more remarkable because Simon is coupled with his brother Andrew, and James with his brother John. Jude, though, is parted from his own brother, James the less, whose name is always joined with his earlier, and is placed with the Iscariot.
Nearness to Christ is not the same as belonging to Him, and Judas is the measure of the gap.
It was a test of man in new circumstances. He was a "familiar friend" (Ps. 41:9) of the Lord Jesus. He heard His gracious words, saw His miracles, and was likely allowed to work miracles himself in His name. And yet, as in every other test of man, he fell. Judas is a solemn instance of how far a person may be under the influence and power of Christianity, and yet become an apostate.
- Named — Two Judases close the list: one identified by James, one by his act. Scripture takes care to keep them apart.
- Disputed — Is the first the son or the brother of James? The wording leaves it open, so the point calls for care, not quick certainty.
- Became — Iscariot is not called a traitor by birth. The word means he turned into one.
- Chosen — He was picked after a night of prayer, by One who knew him from the beginning, so that Scripture would be fulfilled. No mistake was made.
- Warning — A man can hear the words, see the miracles, carry the name, and still fall. Position among the twelve saved nobody.
and having descended with them, he stood on a level place, and a crowd of his disciples, and a great multitude of the people from all Judaea and Jerusalem, and the sea coast of Tyre and Sidon, who came to hear him, and to be healed of their diseases;
Jesus has prayed all night and named the twelve. Now He comes down and stands where a huge crowd can reach Him. Two questions follow. Where did this happen? And why does Luke gather such a crowd before the sermon that comes next?
Some older translations say "the plain." Readers have used that word to argue that Luke reports a different sermon from the one Matthew sets on a mountain. The word itself says otherwise.
I know well that godly men have argued from "the plain" in Luke 6:17, against the "mountain" in Matthew 5:1. They feel a difficulty about the two accounts giving the same discourse, at the same place and time, and this is how they solve it. But the clear evidence of both forces us to reject that solution. Luke's language does not mean "a plain." It means a level place or plateau on the mountain. The Lord went up it to pray all night, before calling the chosen twelve. Then He came down with them, far enough to meet a crowd of His disciples and a great multitude of the people out of all Judea and Jerusalem. It was clearly the same discourse. But the Spirit acted not as a mere reporter — that is not the way inspiration works — but as an infallible editor, for the distinct design of each Gospel.
Commentators differ here. Others hold that the setting was different, and that the Lord said much the same things more than once to different crowds (F. B. Hole).
The descent follows a night on the mountain. Luke's order is prayer first, then the choice of the twelve, then the coming down.
In Luke we find again here the dependent character of the Son of Man. He is all night in prayer before He chooses the twelve... In Luke 6:17 it should not be "the plain," but "a level place" — still on the mountain. Luke gives the substance of the sermon in its great moral principles. Note how His power appeared in the multitude (v. 17-19).
The verse names two groups: a crowd of His disciples, and a great multitude of people. They are not the same.
Whatever He draws people by, He gathers them round Himself to worship. He surrounds Himself with them. Then He comes down and stands in the plain. His miracles and their own needs draw the great multitude; they come to hear and to be healed. The company of the disciples were an inner circle. "All the crowd sought to touch Him." Luke does not say that they were converted; that is another thing. But living power went out of Him. It healed their physical misery and set them free from the power of Satan.
The places listed run from the far south to the northern coast. One commentator sees in that spread a glimpse of the day when Christ comes to bless the whole earth.
In the Lord coming down to the plain in verse 17 there is a picture of His coming to bless the earth at the introduction of the Millennium, but only a glimpse. His apostles, the company of disciples, and a great crowd of people came from Judea, Jerusalem, and Tyre and Sidon. They came to be healed of diseases and demon possession. All of it points to this great gathering in the Millennium (v. 17).
The people came for two things: to hear and to be healed. Luke puts the healing first.
"He healed them all" is the concise statement; no one went away with his disease still on him. Each one who had need shared in the healing power that went out from Christ. Sickness, in themselves or in others, no longer filled their minds. Now they could all listen to the teaching of the gospel without distraction. And teaching was needed.
The One who met all these needs had no home of His own. Commentators hold up that combination as the pattern for a believer.
He was a divine visitor to this world — a heavenly stranger among men. He had nowhere to lay His head while He was meeting their needs with all the resources of God. This is the ideal for a saint of God. He is independent of everything the world can give. Yet with an open heart and a generous hand he gives the world all the benefits and blessings of God. If he is only a heavenly stranger, he may shut himself away from people. If he is only a visitor to the world, he may get tangled up in its corruptions.
- Down — He came down from a night of prayer to a level place on the mountain, not to a plain. Dependence came first, then the descent.
- Near — He stood where a vast crowd could hear Him. An inner circle of disciples stood close by; an outer crowd came drawn by need.
- Wide — The crowd stretched from Judea and Jerusalem to the coast of Tyre and Sidon. One writer sees in that a glimpse of the day when Christ blesses the whole earth.
- Whole — He healed them all; no one left with his disease still on him.
- Heard — He relieved their bodies first. With minds free from distraction, they could take in the teaching they had come for.
and those that were beset by unclean spirits were healed.
A great crowd has come from Judea, Jerusalem and the coast around Tyre and Sidon. Luke says what brought them: they wanted to hear Him, and they wanted to be well. The verse names two kinds of misery — plain disease, and torment by unclean spirits. Both give way in His presence.
One writer sorts the crowd into two rings: an inner circle of disciples, and a far larger crowd drawn by His miracles and by their own needs.
Whatever He uses to draw people, He gathers them round Himself to worship. He surrounds Himself with them, and then comes down and stands in the plain. His miracles and their own needs draw the great crowd, and they come to hear and be healed. The company of the disciples were an inner circle. "All the crowd sought to touch Him." It does not say that they were converted, which is a different thing. But living power went out of Him. It healed the misery of their bodies and set them free from the power of Satan.
The power that healed lived in His own Person. He had become the centre where everyone seeking God now gathered.
He becomes the centre, and all who sought God must come to Him. He is also the starting point of the mission that carries out His love — the centre where divine power is shown in grace... In the plain the company of His disciples surrounds Him, and then a great crowd, drawn together by His word and His works. There was the attraction of the word of God, and He healed the diseases of men, and cast out the power of Satan. This power dwelt in His Person.
The verse keeps the two apart. Commentators note that many people resist this distinction, and that such cases did not stop with the ancient world.
Here again the text separates disease from possession by demons. Modern investigators are unwilling to admit this. One of them, Carpenter, points to the vast pile of evidence from the ages both before and after Christ, and says the idea of a special outburst of demonic energy in the time of Jesus collapses completely. But you only need to read a book like Mrs. Howard Taylor's memoir of Pastor Hsi to see how common such possession still is today in some places.
The same writer explains why Luke calls these spirits "unclean":
Luke 4:33 says "spirit of an unclean demon"; compare "unclean spirit" in Luke 6:18 and Luke 11:24. Lightfoot records that people made a distinction between spirits that caused disease and "evil spirits," which dealt in sorcery and were therefore called "unclean." Luke probably chose the word "unclean" to suit non-Jewish readers, since they recognised a difference between good and bad "demons."
Each person freed from an unclean spirit was evidence of a takeover. Someone had held these people a long time, and someone greater had come.
For a long time the strong one had spread his harmful, withering influence, and for a long time his goods stayed in peace. Now a stronger One had come and had conquered him. The Seed of the woman broke his power, and he could no longer keep what he held. Demons were driven out, even when they were a legion. The blind saw, the lame walked, lepers were made clean, the deaf heard, those who could not speak spoke, and the dead were raised.
One writer sees the scene on the level ground as new wine pouring out.
He comes down and stands with them on the plain. A great crowd came round Him to hear Him and to have their diseases healed. Then the new wine flows out. "All the crowd sought to touch Him, for power came out from Him." How one lingers over such a moment! We drink the new wine that gladdens the heart as we watch the tender beauty of grace. Power went out of Him and healed them all.
Everyone who came for healing got it. One writer sees here a small picture of the Millennium — the future age when Christ blesses the whole earth.
His apostles, the company of disciples and a great crowd from Judea, Jerusalem and Tyre and Sidon all point to this great Millennial gathering. They came to be healed of diseases and of demon possession. The blessing was on a large scale... He turned no one away — all were healed. What a contrast to the boasted healing campaigns run today by men (and women) who claim to be Christian! If two or three seem to be healed, there is loud advertising, but what about the many who are left unblessed?
- Drawn — the crowd came for two reasons named in the verse: to hear Him, and to be healed. He met both.
- Distinguished — the verse names two different miseries: disease, and torment by unclean spirits.
- Delivered — every spirit driven out showed that a stronger One had come. The strong man's long peace was over.
- Denied to none — He turned no one away, and all were healed, unlike healing campaigns today that leave most people unblessed.
- Not yet His — healing is one thing, faith is another. Power went out of Him, but the text does not say the crowd believed.
And all the crowd sought to touch him, for power went out from him and healed all.
The crowd around Jesus is not keeping a polite distance — it presses in, and everyone tries to touch Him. Two questions follow: where did the healing power come from, and why did touching Him work?
The healing power was not in the crowd's method. It was in the person they were reaching for. One writer says plainly where that power lived:
Luke 8:46 and 6:19: it is the power to heal that lived in Christ, and it became effective when the touch of faith was there.
This sets His miracles apart from every other display of power in the Bible:
The miracles of our Lord stand out from those of the Old Testament, and from those in Acts. He Himself stands out in the same way from the most faithful of the prophets and the other servants of the Lord. His miracles are unique. They are not only God stepping in through His servants. There is a power that belongs to Christ Himself. It is God in Him doing the works. This does not contradict in the least what our Lord says, that He did these things by the finger of God. He was always the dependent and obedient One, the perfect Servant. This veiled His own personal glory, but it did not deny it. So faith always recognizes Him not only as God's workman, but as having the power in Himself.
The crowd said nothing. They only stretched out their hands. Commentators read that silent reaching as real trust:
This effort to touch Jesus was proof of strong faith in those who looked for healing this way. The bold faith that stretched out weak hands to Him had no words at all. Yet it was real, as the Saviour knew, and He could never deny it. "He has filled the hungry with good things." The poor were weak, racked with pain, dying. They touched Him, the great Physician, trusting blindly like little children.
This scene comes right after a whole night of prayer and the choosing of the twelve disciples. One writer follows that order and reads the healing as what flows from it:
First we see Him all night in prayer to God. Then we trace some of this work: He chooses the twelve and links them with the outflow of grace. He comes down and stands with them on the level ground. A great crowd came round to hear Him and to find healing for their diseases. Then the new wine flows out. "All the crowd sought to touch him, for power came out from him." How we linger over such a moment, drinking the new wine that gladdens the heart as we watch the exquisite tenderness of grace! Power went out of Him and healed them all.
The verse says the power healed them all. It does not say they became His followers:
His miracles and their own needs draw the great crowd. They come to hear Him and to be healed. The company of the disciples were an inner circle. "All the crowd sought to touch him." Scripture does not say that they were converted, which is another thing. But living power went out of Him, healing their bodily misery and delivering them from the power of Satan.
The scale of it is the point. Every last person who reached Him got what they came for, and one writer draws a blunt comparison with modern claims:
The Lord coming down to the plain in verse 17 is a picture of His coming to bless the earth at the start of the Millennium. It is only a glimpse. The blessing was on a large scale. All sought only to touch Him, for this alone secured healing, because power went out from Him. None were denied: all were healed. What a contrast to the boasted healing campaigns that men (and women) who claim to be Christian run today! If two or three seem to be healed, there is loud advertising. But what about the many who are left with no blessing?
- Source. The power was not borrowed. It "lived in Christ" Himself, unlike the miracles worked through prophets and apostles.
- Contact. That power "became effective when the touch of faith was there" — wordless, weak-handed reaching still counted as real faith.
- Overflow. The healing follows a night of prayer and the choosing of the twelve. Grace flows out of the One who came down and stood among them.
- Limit. He healed every body, but Scripture never says the crowd was converted. The disciples around Him were a different, inner circle.
- Scope. "None were denied: all were healed" — a completeness that today's healing campaigns cannot show, and a test for their claims.
And *he*, lifting up his eyes upon his disciples, said, Blessed [are] ye poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.
The healings are over, and the Lord turns from the crowd to His disciples to tell them who is well off. He hands the kingdom to people the world would pity — so what does He mean by "poor," and why does Luke leave out the words "in spirit" that Matthew keeps?
Healing power had just swept through the crowd. Hopes of a kingdom arriving at once would rise from that.
There is a striking contrast between "the whole multitude" of verses 17-19 and "His disciples" in verse 20. The great blessing of verse 19 might well excite the disciples with the prospect of the kingdom's glory arriving. The Lord quiets this with words that show they should be ready for poverty, hunger, weeping and persecution. He clearly spoke this at a different time from the sermon on the mount, though it covers similar things in a shorter form. In Matthew He spoke to the crowd; here He speaks to His disciples.
Matthew's version describes a type of person. Luke records words spoken straight to the people in front of Him.
Luke takes a different course. Here the Lord is not laying down principles, or describing the classes of people who can have a part in the kingdom, as in "Blessed the poor." He looks at His disciples and speaks to them as the ones directly concerned: "Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God." It is all personal, spoken to the godly company standing around Him... It was sorrow and suffering now. The One who fulfilled the promises, the psalms and the prophets had been rejected, so the kingdom could not yet come in power and glory.
Luke says "kingdom of God" where Matthew says "kingdom of heaven." The change fits the moment.
Compare Matthew 5:3 with Luke 6:20. We can note the difference and understand the reason for it. When He describes the character of the people the kingdom belongs to, the Lord calls it the kingdom of heaven. But when He tells those in front of Him about blessings already theirs, He calls it the kingdom of God, because that was its character at that time.
The verse gives its own reason in the second half, and the reason is not an empty purse.
His disciples were, however, "the poor." Note they were not blessed because they were poor, but because theirs was the kingdom of God.
Is this about people with empty pockets? One answer reads the verse alongside Matthew's wording and the woe on the rich a few verses later.
The poor here does not mean exactly those we call poor in this world. It means the poor in spirit (Matthew 5:3), those who are aware of their poverty before God — whatever their position or circumstances in life... The true meaning of the word comes out in a contrast the Lord Himself makes: "Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God… But woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation."… These are the poor who have nothing to own, nothing to satisfy them, and nothing to enjoy in the things of the world. They have been made to feel that they have nothing for God and can bring nothing to Him.
Some have built a case for holy poverty on those missing words.
The words "in spirit" are left out here. But this text gives no ground for such an idea. It comes from superstition, not from faith... The question is about the inner man as against the outer. A man who is poor in this world's goods may have a proud, unbending spirit, while a rich man may be truly humble. At the same time, we believe the Lord has more often used a man's miseries than his comforts to bring him to Himself. But that is the Lord's doing, and quite another thing.
The blessing falls on one side of a line. That leaves the other side out.
These words of the Saviour set those He calls blessed against all who are at ease in this world. If their hope in Christ were for this life only, they would be the most miserable of all men. Yet they are the only happy few. They stand cut off from everyone else, in relationship with Him who is the source of blessing, so that they may be blessed. If you can make yourselves happy and comfortable in this world which has rejected Jesus, do not count on His blessing.
- Emptied. The poor here know their poverty before God. They have nothing to own or enjoy in this world — whatever their bank balance.
- Addressed. Matthew paints a portrait; Luke reports a personal word to the company standing in front of Him — "yours," not "theirs."
- Owned. The blessing rests on what they hold, not on what they lack. They are blessed because the kingdom is theirs, not because they are poor.
- Now. He calls it the kingdom of God because that was its character then. The blessing was already theirs. Power and glory waited, because men rejected Him first.
- Sided. Comfort built in a world that refused Jesus is a different portion. The blessing runs along His path only.
Blessed ye that hunger now, for ye shall be filled. Blessed ye that weep now, for ye shall laugh.
Luke's list of blessings is short and personal. Here Jesus takes two things everyone tries to avoid — an empty stomach and tears — and calls them the mark of a blessed life, because of what He promises will follow.
Matthew's Sermon on the Mount describes classes of people who belong to the kingdom. Luke's account turns the same words into direct address to the disciples in front of Jesus.
In the Gospel of Luke, another course is followed. Here the Lord does not lay down principles. He does not describe the classes of people who can have a part in the kingdom, as in "Blessed are the poor" and so on. Instead He looks at His disciples and speaks to them as the people directly concerned... It is all personal, with the godly company that then surrounded Him in view. So He says, "Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you shall be satisfied. Blessed are you who weep now," and so on. It was sorrow and suffering now, for the One who fulfilled the promises, the psalms and the prophets was rejected. So the kingdom could not yet come in power and glory. "But first He must suffer many things."
The blessings run straight into the woes of verses 24-26. The two lists sort people by where they find their comfort.
These words of the Saviour give the contrast of those He pronounces blessed with all who are at ease in this world. If they had hope in Christ for this life only, they would be the most miserable of all people. Yet they are the only happy few. They are cut off from all others and put in relationship with Him, the source of blessing, so that they may be blessed. This world has rejected Jesus. If you can make yourself happy and comfortable in it, do not count on His blessing.
The reversal cuts both ways.
Those who are full now, stuffed with the things of this present life, will find themselves hungering. Those who laugh now will yet mourn and weep. Things will be fully reversed from what people naturally think today.
Readers often merge this line with Matthew's fourth beatitude, but the two are not worded the same way.
In Luke 6 the Lord addresses His disciples directly. He says in a general way: "Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you shall be satisfied" (verse 21). The fourth of the nine "beatitudes" in Matthew 5 speaks of a particular hunger and thirst — a hunger and thirst after righteousness.
The promise is not a hope that things may improve. Its security rests on the character of the One who said it.
God will fill the hungry so that He may fulfil His word. "Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you shall be satisfied" (Luke 6:21). Has the Lord spoken, and will it not come to pass? As "His compassions fail not" (Lam. 3:22), so He will not let His "faithfulness fail" (Ps. 89:33). If the hungry soul were not filled, the promise would not be fulfilled.
The promise points forward, yet the blessing is spoken now. One writer holds both sides together.
For now, to hunger and thirst is a blessing, for it carries the prospect of being filled. In fact, though there may be painful deprivation, yet the soul may even now be filled with spiritual good. If there is weeping now, it is because our Lord is rejected and absent. In the end that weeping will turn to laughter, when we are with the Lord. So even now, holding this certainty of future hope, we are more blessed than we realise.
Scripture uses laughter in more than one sense.
There is a great deal about laughter in the Bible, and mostly it expresses these two ideas of happiness and contempt. "Blessed are you who weep now, for you shall laugh" — these are the comforting words He speaks to His suffering disciples. But another saying means something very different: "He who sits in the heavens laughs; the Lord holds them in derision."
The passage says something no one would guess.
His disciples were the poor, the hungry, the weepers, those hated and reproached. A description like this shows that He was already treating His own rejection as a certainty. The sad and rejected are the blessed; the glad and the popular are under judgment. One group follows in the footsteps of the Son of Man and suffers for His sake. The other follows the way of the false prophets.
- Now — The hunger and the tears are dated. Luke's Lord keeps saying "now," because His own rejection sets the season His disciples live in.
- Named — He is not defining a category. He looks at the people in front of Him and tells them they are the blessed ones.
- Filled — The promise stands on God's faithfulness: if the hungry soul went unfilled, God's word would have failed.
- Already — Even before the reversal comes, the soul can be filled with spiritual good. Holding that certainty is itself more blessing than we feel.
- Laughter — Weeping ends in laughter, while those who laugh now end in tears. Where you take your comfort decides which list you are on.
Blessed are ye when men shall hate you, and when they shall separate you [from them], and shall reproach [you], and cast out your name as wicked, for the Son of man's sake
The last of Luke's four blessings turns from poverty, hunger and tears to what people do on purpose: hatred, exclusion, insult, and the ruin of a good name. Two questions decide how we read it: who is Jesus speaking to, and what makes such treatment a blessing rather than plain misery?
Luke aims this sermon at the people standing in front of Jesus. One clause that Matthew has is missing here.
Lastly, notice that Luke leaves out persecution for righteousness' sake altogether. That has its fitting, though not exclusive, place in Matthew… Luke keeps only the blessing of those persecuted for the Son of Man's sake. This fits beautifully with the way he speaks directly to his four classes. The blessed here stand right in front of the Lord, and the persecuted here suffer only for His sake. It is all deeply personal.
The effect is to draw a line through the crowd. Everything depends on standing near Him.
He says, if we may put it this way, "I am setting you apart." He is not stating abstract principles, as at the start of Matthew 5. He is speaking to the hearts of those gathered around Him. "I have come as the centre of power and active love. There is only one place of blessing on earth. With Me you are blessed." Others may be lighthearted and cheerful where Christ has no place. But this is a time when a truly spiritual soul can find no good except with Christ.
Two words need explaining. Where the ESV says "exclude" and "spurn your name as evil," older translations read "separate" and "cast out your name as wicked." Commentators differ over how wide the shutting-out is:
"Separate" is usually understood to mean being put out of the synagogue (John 16:2). But the scholar De Wette took it, like the English translation, to mean being shut out of society in general.
The next phrase is about reputation.
To have your name "cast out" is to have it spread around, bringing you into bad repute.
The blessing does not rest on being disliked. It rests on the last phrase of the verse.
More than this, the believer is blessed in persecution — even when hated and shut out, with his very name treated with contempt as though it were evil (v.22). Yet there is a condition here: "for the Son of Man's sake." We can only claim the blessing if the persecution is for His sake. But if it is, the blessing is deeply real and valuable.
That condition also narrows what counts as a cross:
People often use the word "cross" loosely, for every kind of trial and suffering. It is used commonly even by unbelievers and about unbelievers. But in the language of Scripture, no unbeliever bears a cross. The world loves its own; it does not hate them (John 15:19)… Only one thing can be called a cross: suffering or insult that flows from man's unjust judgment on what is like Christ in us.
Verses 24 to 26 answer these blessings with matching woes. The arrangement sorts the hearers into two groups.
Some were identified with Himself and shared His sorrows. Others belonged to the world and shared its passing joys. On the one group He called down a blessing, and on the other a woe. This, of course, involved a tremendous paradox. The sad and rejected are the blessed: the glad and the popular are under judgment.
Jesus says this before any of it has happened to them — which is itself part of the kindness.
Would they be hated for the Son of Man's sake? That only showed whose they were. So they should rejoice. Here the Lord gives them an antidote to the sting of the trial by pointing them up to heaven. It is certainly a trial for anyone to have his name unjustly thrown out as evil. But He provided the antidote before the disciples had begun to feel the sting.
Taken seriously, the verse re-rates the whole experience.
I believe, beloved friends, to be thoroughly hated for Christ's sake is a wonderful thing. When a man is here really for God, and the light, the truth, and the grace of God are streaming through that man, he is sure to be hated, and if he is hated for Christ's sake, let him thank God.
And even a small share of it settles something inside:
It is an immense thing when you see and accept that suffering for Christ is the place of the highest distinction on earth. We may not suffer much. But simply being convinced that suffering is the highest place, and the only place of real progress, will always be healthy discipline and encouragement.
- Cause — The hatred comes from being close to Christ. Luke drops "for righteousness' sake" and keeps only "for the Son of Man's sake." It is personal.
- Company — Being shut out marks whose side you are on: separated from the synagogue or from society, but joined to Him.
- Condition — No condition, no blessing. Suffering that does not flow from what is like Christ in us is trouble, not a cross.
- Comfort — He hands over the antidote before the sting lands. He also turns the world's scoreboard upside down: the rejected are blessed, the popular are warned.
- Crown — Hatred for His sake is the highest distinction on earth, and the reward waits in heaven.
rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for behold, your reward is great in the heaven, for after this manner did their fathers act toward the prophets.
Jesus tells hated, insulted disciples to leap for joy. Three questions follow. What suffering counts? Why rejoice now? And where is the reward kept?
In Matthew the Lord describes a class of people. Here He speaks straight to the men in front of Him, and that splits His hearers into two camps.
On this occasion the Lord addressed His disciples personally. In Matthew He described a certain class, and says that theirs is the kingdom. Here He says, "yours is the kingdom," identifying that class with the disciples… This of course involved a tremendous paradox. The sad and rejected are the blessed: the glad and the popular are under judgment. But the first group follows in the footsteps of the Son of Man and suffers for His sake. The second follows in the way of the false prophets.
Not all suffering carries this promise. The blessing of verse 22 hangs on one phrase — "on account of the Son of Man" — and that phrase controls verse 23 too.
More than this, in persecution the believer is blessed, even when people hate him and shut him out, and despise his very name as evil (v.22). Yet there is a condition noted here: "for the Son of Man's sake." We can claim the blessing only if the persecution is for His sake. If it is, that blessing is deeply real and valuable. We are urged not to let persecution discourage us, but to rejoice and leap for joy. Being identified with Him this way is worth far more than a popular life on earth.
That condition also corrects a loose habit of speech, where any hardship gets called "a cross."
The word is used loosely, as if it applied to every kind of trial and suffering, and often even by and of unbelievers. In the language of Scripture it is clear that no unbeliever bears a cross… Every believer does bear a cross, but he has only one, and he should bear it not now and then but "daily." It is the reproach of Christ. No suffering or reproach is a cross, except what comes from man's unjust judgment on what is like Christ in us.
Being called evil hurts. Notice the timing of the Lord's remedy: He acts before the disciples feel anything.
Would they be hated for the Son of man's sake? That only showed whose they were. So they should rejoice. Here the Lord gives them an antidote to the sting of the trial by pointing them up to heaven. It is a real trial for anyone to have their name falsely cast out as evil. But He provided the antidote before the disciples had begun to feel the sting.
Full barns once looked like proof of God's approval. The word "heaven" moves the whole inheritance somewhere else.
But the Messiah had come to earth, and men rejected Him. So He began to teach that heaven, not earth, was to be the home of His faithful disciples (Luke 6:23). He taught the heavenly calling. Saints may experience suffering and trials here. These are not to discourage them. Beyond death is their portion, their home. The full barn and the crowded storehouse were now no proof of special Divine approval. They were no sign either that everlasting misery would not be the owners' portion.
The last line of the verse looks back. The disciples get what the prophets got, and that likeness marks them out as belonging to Christ.
His disciples are separated from all the world around them by this fact, that they are His. The world stands against Him and against His own. It hates them, shuts them out, and casts out their name as evil for the Son of man's sake… Yet they may well rejoice, for their reward is great in heaven. On earth they only continue the line of the prophets whom the world rejected long ago.
If that is the line you stand in, insults are not a step down.
It is an immense thing when you see and accept that suffering for Christ is the place of the highest distinction on earth. We may not suffer much; but the mere conviction that suffering is the highest place, and the only one of true progress, will always be healthy discipline and encouragement.
- Cause. The blessing rests on one condition: persecution "on account of the Son of Man." Only suffering that comes from what is like Christ in us counts as a cross.
- Company. Hatred puts you in the line of the rejected prophets. It shows whose you are.
- Antidote. Jesus points His disciples to heaven before they feel the sting, so joy is ready in advance of the pain.
- Place. The reward is kept in heaven, not in full barns on earth — this is where He begins teaching the heavenly calling.
- Result. Suffering for Christ is the highest honour on earth. Even believing that fact strengthens you.