
Now after this the Lord appointed seventy others, and sent them in pairs ahead of Him to every city and place where He Himself was going to come. And He was saying to them, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore beseech the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into His harvest. Go; behold, I send you out as lambs in the midst of wolves. Carry no money belt, no bag, no shoes; and greet no one on the way. Whatever house you enter, first say, ‘Peace be to this house.’ If a man of peace is there, your peace will rest on him; but if not, it will return to you. Stay in that house, eating and drinking what they give you; for the laborer is worthy of his wages. Do not keep moving from house to house. Whatever city you enter and they receive you, eat what is set before you; and heal those in it who are sick, and say to them, ‘The kingdom of God has come near to you.’ But whatever city you enter and they do not receive you, go out into its streets and say, ‘Even the dust of your city which clings to our feet we wipe off in protest against you; yet be sure of this, that the kingdom of God has come near.’ I say to you, it will be more tolerable in that day for Sodom than for that city. (Luke 10:1-12)
Introduction: Contextualizing the Mission
In Luke 10:1-12, Jesus, the Messiah and King, expands His kingdom mission by appointing seventy “others” to go ahead of Him, preparing the way for His arrival in every city and place. This follows the earlier sending of the Twelve (Luke 9:1-6), revealing a pattern of divine delegation rooted in God’s redemptive plan. The passage highlights key actions—appointing, beseeching, and sending—intertwined with praying and going, which illuminate Jesus’ lordship and the Kingdom of God’s nearness. This essay analyzes these terms linguistically and theologically, connecting them to Christ’s eternal reign and their transformative power for believers today.
Linguistic Roots: Defining the Terms
The Greek terms in Luke 10 provide a foundation for understanding this commission. “Appointed” (ἀνέδειξεν, anedeixen, Strong’s G322) derives from ana (up) and deiknumi (to show), meaning to lift up or designate publicly. Jesus visibly sets apart the seventy, marking them for a purpose tied to His authority as King. “Beseech” (δεήθητε, deēthēte, Strong’s G1189) from deomai (to beg or petition) conveys urgent, dependent prayer, as the disciples implore the Lord of the harvest to act. “Sent/send” (ἀπέστειλεν, apesteilen, Strong’s G649) stems from apostellō, blending apo (from) and stellō (to set in order), signifying a deliberate dispatch with divine commission, echoing the apostolic mission of the Twelve.
Etymologically, these words emphasize intentionality and authority. Anedeixen suggests a royal appointment, deēthēte a reliance on divine power, and apesteilen a purposeful extension of Christ’s mission. Together, they frame the seventy’s role as an outflow of Jesus’ messianic kingship, preparing the world for His presence.
Theological Significance: The Kingdom in Action
The appointment of the seventy mirrors the sending of the Twelve, expanding the scope of God’s kingdom proclamation. This dual commission prophetically points to Christ’s reign over all mankind and how the kingdom would spread, fulfilling God’s redemptive plan (Isaiah 49:6). Jesus, as the Lord of the harvest, orchestrates this mission, revealing His divine attributes: omniscience in knowing the need, omnipotence in empowering laborers, and mercy in offering peace and healing (Luke 10:9).
Prayer (deēthēte) and going (apesteilen) are inseparable. The command to beseech the Lord for laborers underscores human dependence on divine initiative, while sending them as “lambs among wolves” (Luke 10:3) demonstrates faith in action. This duality reflects the Kingdom of God’s nearness—present in power yet requiring participation. The message, “The kingdom of God has come near” (Luke 10:9, Luke 10:11), ties directly to Jesus’ identity as Messiah, whose presence inaugurates God’s reign, a reality both now and not yet fully consummated (Matthew 4:17).
Christological Fulfillment: Jesus as King
Jesus’ lordship shines through this passage. He appoints with authority, directs prayer to Himself as the harvest’s Lord, and sends with a mission that prefigures His eternal reign (Revelation 11:15). Unlike earthly kings, His rule is marked by vulnerability and provision, as seen in the command to carry no resources (Luke 10:4), trusting the King who supplies all needs (Philippians 4:19). This lordship is not merely future; it is real today, transforming believers into laborers who extend His reign in this age, even as we await its ultimate fulfillment.
Transformative Power: Living the Commission
For contemporary Christians, this concept inspires a life of purpose and dependence. Being appointed calls us all as priests (1 Peter 2:9) to recognize our divine calling under Christ’s kingship. Beseeching fuels prayer for kingdom expansion, while being sent compels us to go boldly, trusting God amid rejection or reception (Luke 10:10-11). The interconnectedness of Scripture—seen in the Twelve’s mission (Luke 9), the Great Commission (Matthew 28:18-20), and the harvest imagery (John 4:35-38)—reveals a unified narrative of God’s unstoppable kingdom. Embracing this transforms disciples into active heralds, reflecting Jesus’ eternal reign and the expansive nature of His rule, both now and forever.
Conclusion
The appointment and sending of the seventy in Luke 10:1-12 unveil Jesus as the Messiah who reigns with purpose and power. Through anedeixen, deēthēte, and apesteilen, we see a King who delegates, invites prayer, and commissions laborers to proclaim His near kingdom. This passage bridges ancient text to modern faith, affirming Christ’s lordship as a present reality with eternal promise, urging believers to pray and go as reflections of His redemptive plan.
Disciple-Maker’s Short Story
The Weight of the Call
The late afternoon sun spilled golden light across the park, threading through the budding branches of ancient oaks. Ed’s sneakers crunched against the gravel path as he walked beside the outreach team, their voices rising in soft prayer. The air carried the scent of damp earth and the faint tang of blooming azaleas. Every Saturday, they came here—prayer walking through the local park, sharing the gospel with joggers, dog walkers, anyone who’d listen. Today, though, Ed’s attention wasn’t on the strangers they approached. It lingered on Felix, who, as always, hung back with the prayer team, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, his eyes fixed on the ground.
Felix was a wiry man in his late twenties, all sharp angles and quiet intensity. He’d joined the church a year ago, drawn in by the community, but Ed had noticed this pattern early on. When the team fanned out to talk to people, Felix stayed rooted, murmuring prayers under his breath. At first, Ed figured it was just his way—some people were talkers, others intercessors. But lately, it gnawed at him. Felix wasn’t shy; he’d banter with the team over coffee or fix a kid’s bike tire without any problem. So why this hesitation?
The next day, Ed found Felix at the bike shop where he worked part-time. The bell above the door jingled as Ed stepped inside, the space humming with the metallic clink of tools and the faint hum of a radio playing classic rock. Felix was hunched over a derailleur, his fingers deftly threading a cable, his brow furrowed in concentration. Ed leaned against the counter, watching for a moment before clearing his throat.
“Hey, Felix,” he started, his tone light but steady. “Got a sec?”
Felix glanced up, wiping his hands on a rag. “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”
Ed shifted his stance, choosing his words with care. “I’ve seen you out there with us—prayer walking, lifting up the team. You’re solid, man. You’ve got the training, too—those evangelism workshops we did last fall. You aced the role-plays. So I’ve been wondering… why don’t you ever step out and share?”
Felix’s shoulders stiffened, his gaze dropping to the greasy rag in his hands. He twisted it once, twice, before answering. “I’m not really built for that, you know? Evangelism’s a gift, right? Some people have it—guys like you who can just walk up to anybody and start talking about Jesus. I don’t. I figure my part’s praying for you all. That’s what I’m good at.”
Ed nodded slowly, letting the words settle. He’d heard this before—people carving out their roles, dodging what scared them by calling it a “gift.” But something in Felix’s voice, a faint tremor beneath the excuse, told Ed there was more. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the counter.
“Fair enough,” he said. “But let me ask you this: when you signed up for this team, didn’t you commit to sharing the gospel? Not just praying, but going out with us?”
Felix’s jaw tightened, and he tossed the rag onto the workbench. “Yeah, I guess. But like I said, I don’t have the gift. I’m not off the hook or anything—I just think God’s got other people for that job.”
Ed straightened, his voice softening but carrying a quiet weight. “Felix, you know the Great Commission, right? Matthew 28:18-20—Jesus tells the disciples to go, make disciples, teach them to obey everything He commanded. And that includes Mark 16:15—‘preach the gospel to all creation.’ He didn’t say, ‘Only if you’ve got the gift.’ He said it to all of us. You, me, the whole church. Prayer’s vital, don’t get me wrong—but it’s not a substitute for going.”
Felix didn’t respond right away. He turned back to the bike, fiddling with the chain, but his hands moved slower now, less sure. Ed waited, the silence stretching between them like a taut wire. Finally, Felix let out a breath, his voice barely above a whisper.
“It’s not about gifts, okay? I’m… I’m scared, Ed. What if I mess it up? What if I say the wrong thing and push someone away from God instead of toward Him? I’d rather pray and let you guys handle it.”
There it was—the real thing, raw and jagged. Ed felt a pang of recognition; he’d wrestled with that fear himself years ago. He stepped closer to Felix, his tone gentle but firm.
“I get it. I’ve been there. But here’s the thing: Jesus didn’t send us out because we’re fearless or perfect. He sent us because He’s with us. Look at Luke 10—the seventy He appointed weren’t superheroes. They were just people, like us, told to go as lambs among wolves. And you know what? He went with them. He goes with us, too. How about this: next week, you come with me. I’ll share first, show you how I do it. You just watch. No pressure.”
Felix met his eyes, uncertainty flickering there, but he gave a small nod. “Okay. I’ll try.”
The following Saturday, the park buzzed with life—kids shrieking on the playground, a guy strumming a guitar under a pavilion. Ed and Felix walked side by side, the outreach team scattering ahead. Felix’s hands were back in his pockets, his posture tense, but he stayed close. Ed scanned the path and spotted a man sitting alone on a bench, scrolling on his phone—a wiry guy in a hoodie, maybe mid-thirties.
“Watch this,” Ed murmured to Felix, then approached the man with an easy smile. “Hey, we’re sharing a story that changed our lives. Mind if I tell you mine?”
The guy glanced up, shrugged. “Free country.”
Ed settled beside him, leaving space, and started his story;
Well there was a time in my life when I was angry and alone. One day this guy approached me like I did you and told me how God loved me so much He sent His Son Jesus to the earth, He lived a perfect life and then Jesus died on a cross for everything I’ve ever done wrong. The man said if I surrendered my life to Jesus as my King, my Boss, He would give me true life. I did that by telling God I believed what this man said and I wanted to start living my life His way not mine. My life radically changed from that point on. I was much happier and had people that really cared about me. Have you ever had an experience with Jesus that changed your life?”
The man snorted, but it wasn’t hostile. “Not really. Church isn’t my thing.”
“Fair enough,” Ed said, unfazed. “I wasn’t big on it either till I figured out it’s not about the building. It’s about a relationship with Jesus”
The man paused, then shrugged again. “I’m not very religious.”
Ed pulled out a small tract and gave it to the man, “ Well if you ever change your mind, my contact info is on the back and this is just something to chew on.”
The guy took it, nodded, and Ed stood, clapping Felix on the shoulder as they walked away. Felix’s eyes were wide, his voice hushed. “That’s it? You just… talked to him? Like it was nothing?”
“It’s not nothing,” Ed said. “It’s everything. But yeah—it’s simple. Tell them who Jesus is, what He’s done for you, and let Him do the rest. You ready to try?”
Felix swallowed hard, but something shifted in his stance—a spark of resolve. He nodded. Ahead, a woman sat on a picnic blanket, reading a book. Felix took a shaky breath and stepped forward, Ed trailing just behind.
“Uh, hi,” Felix started, his voice cracking slightly. “Mind if I interrupt for a sec?”
She looked up, surprised but not annoyed. “Sure, what’s up?”
“I’m Felix. I’m here with my friend Ed, and… I’ve been telling people a story that changed our lives.Would you like to hear mine?” Felix started with his simple story that bled into a meaningful conversation that lasted twenty minutes.
The woman wanted to know more. Felix blinked, startled by her openness, then fumbled for one of the cards Ed had given him. “Here—this has some info if you’re curious.”
She smiled faintly, taking it. “Thanks, Felix.”
As they walked away, Felix turned to Ed, his face lit with a mix of shock and exhilaration. “Oh, I can do this! It’s not… it’s not as hard as I thought.”
Ed laughed, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “Told you. It’s not about being slick or fearless. It’s about being like Him—Jesus went to people, met them where they were. You just did that, too.”
Felix grinned, the weight lifting from his frame. For the first time, he saw it—not just the call, but the One who’d called him. And he wanted to be more like Him, one shaky step at a time.