Does preparing for risk reflect faith in God, or a lack of it?
Pete—whose name has been changed to protect his ongoing ministry—was fascinated by the simplicity with which Jesus had sent the disciples out on one of their first missions. In Luke 10, Jesus instructed them to set out without any spare cash or equipment (Luke 10:4).
After working for several years as a member of a mission organization in a high-risk context, Pete decided to leave his formal role with the organization. He was particularly critical of their risk and crisis management and did not see preparing for contingencies as an expression of trust in God. He viewed the “faith-inspired minimalism” of the first commission not just as a model but as a mandate for all time—a conviction that would later be tested in the crucible of a kidnapping.
Admittedly, the simplicity of Jesus’ instructions in Luke 10 is appealing. It is especially encouraging for those who have left today’s baggage of consumerism and material prosperity behind to follow Jesus. I appreciate my brother’s conviction not to make mission overcomplicated. His desire was to trust Jesus for what might be lacking, materially or otherwise. And yet Jesus’s later teaching in Luke 22 shows that the Church cannot treat Luke 10 as a timeless model for all mission and risk management.
“Then Jesus asked them, ‘When I sent you without purse, bag or sandals, did you lack anything?’ ‘Nothing,’ they answered” (Luke 22:35).
The disciples acknowledged God’s provision during their first missionary journey. They had everything they needed and were provided for by those who welcomed them because they came in the name of Jesus. And Jesus confirmed that the way they had trusted him and followed his instructions was absolutely correct. Next, Jesus announced a significant shift:
“He said to them, ‘But now if you have a purse, take it, and also a bag; and if you don’t have a sword, sell your cloak and buy one’” (Luke 22:36–38).
“But now.” With these words Jesus signaled that the circumstances of ministry were changing dramatically. Jesus was on the threshold of his passion. The disciples were moving from a period in which Jesus’s public popularity provided them with a measure of protection into an era marked by opposition and vulnerability. The warning of Luke 10:3—that they were being sent like lambs among wolves—would now take on a new intensity.
Pete experienced his own “But now” moment not long after leaving his organization. He had since married and brought his wife with him. One evening, on his way back from a visit, he was kidnapped. Pete’s church found itself overwhelmed, facing a crisis they were not prepared to handle.
The urgency of Jesus is clearly seen in the contrast he was making: “If you don’t have a sword, sell your cloak and buy one” (Luke 22:36). It is hard to overestimate the significance of a cloak in the ancient world. For many ordinary people, it was their outer garment during the day and their blanket at night. It was so essential that Jewish law protected it. A cloak taken as collateral had to be returned by sunset (Exod 22:25–26). Through this stark contrast, Jesus emphasizes the costly nature of the changed circumstances ahead.
The disciples’ response suggests that they may initially have understood him more literally:
“See, Lord, here are two swords.”
“That’s enough!” he replied (Luke 22:38).
The disciples had no problem producing two swords at once. Certainly, two swords would have been insufficient if Jesus had called the disciples to fight against the Romans. And if Jesus had literally intended armed resistance, he would have approved Peter’s use of the sword in Gethsemane a few hours later. Instead, Jesus immediately stopped him and healed the wounded man (Luke 22:50–51).
While interpreters differ on the precise meaning of the sword, Jesus’s words clearly communicate a need for readiness in the face of coming opposition. Elsewhere, Paul also uses military imagery to describe Christian preparedness, discipline, and perseverance (Eph 6:11–17; 2 Tim 2:3–4). Read in this way, the sword points beyond physical protection to the mindset of a disciplined and mission-focused servant of Christ.
While following Christ into danger today rarely requires a literal sword, this kind of readiness often takes the form of training and systems. For Pete, this “sword of readiness” appeared unexpectedly in the form of a forgotten document. As a proactive step of stewardship, Pete’s church leadership had required an agreement before letting him transition to serving as an informal team member. By signing it, Pete authorized his former organization to support him in a major crisis as though he were still a formal team member.
Pete had initially viewed this document as unnecessary formality, but since it was signed, that piece of paper became the authorization the crisis management team needed to mobilize care for his wife and support the release efforts. The provision he had reluctantly accepted before the crisis became a means of grace when the crisis came. God graciously used an administrative requirement as a means to support his wife while he was unable to.
Pete was eventually released and reunited with his wife. He became deeply grateful for the people who had sustained her and supported his release and recovery—even at a time when he was very skeptical of them. Today, Pete and his wife serve as witnesses of this care, helping train new workers by sharing lessons from that painful season.
Pete’s kidnapping does not merely illustrate the value of crisis management. It highlights broader principles that should shape how churches and mission organizations prepare workers for ministry in challenging contexts.
First, faithful preparation begins with the worker, not the protocol. Churches and mission organizations should seek to identify and send those who neither pursue danger recklessly nor give in to a safety-first mentality. They should help workers take an honest look at their own struggles to embrace the full range between obedient courage and wise prudence. Pete was no different. For a long time, he saw himself as faithful by letting go of organizational ties. After the kidnapping, he acknowledged that his early attitude was not entirely “deep faith,” but partly an expression of pride.
True readiness goes deeper than systems and protocols; it requires building theological resilience. Those in pastoral ministry should prepare workers for the reality of suffering and disappointment so that when hardship comes, workers have theological resources to sustain them through it. Pete can now look young, zealous workers in the eye and ask: “What would happen to your faith if obedience led you somewhere you never expected?”
By viewing preparation as a spiritual discipline—similar to putting on the full armor of God—workers can move toward a posture of mission-focused obedience. This includes understanding not just the “contextual risks” of their destination, but their own personal vulnerabilities. Their painful experience profoundly reshaped Pete’s and his wife’s faith and deepened their humility. Pete speaks honestly about where his earlier thinking had fallen short, while together they testify to God’s goodness throughout the kidnapping.
Second, risk should be discerned in community rather than carried alone. The person who goes must hear God’s call, but the community also has a responsibility to discern, test, confirm, and support that calling. As the Church, we should send workers with confidence that Christ has called them to their ministry through the Holy Spirit—nothing short of the confidence that the first disciples had about their mandate. In earlier years, Pete made such decisions largely on his own. Now, he and his wife teach groups of new workers together, inviting them to grapple with a theology of risk and suffering.
By clarifying leadership roles and fostering partnerships, the body of Christ can share the responsibility of care. This means sitting down with family and church leadership to write out a unified support plan. By doing this, Pete’s “signed document” became a gift, allowing others to carry the weight when he could no longer help himself.
Finally, communities must prepare not only to disciple and send people but to sustain them when circumstances change. At its core, risk and crisis management is about caring for people before, during, and after difficult events. Workers, spouses, and families need more than policies and plans. They need timely information, ready access to help, committed prayer, and long-term care when difficult experiences leave lasting wounds.
Pete and his wife now testify to this privilege of community as they prepare the next generation of workers. In their sessions, they regularly remind new workers that even the best preparation does not guarantee safety, nor does it eliminate the cost of obedience. At times, faithfulness will still require believers to accept significant sacrifice for the sake of Christ, who is worth our complete devotion.
Pete’s experience is an extreme example, but the question it raises belongs to all of us: How do we trust God fully while preparing wisely for the responsibilities he has given us? Faithful preparation is one way we steward what God has entrusted to us while acknowledging that our security remains ultimately in his hands.
As Pete discovered, the simplicity of Luke 10 and the preparedness of Luke 22 need not be rivals. Christian courage is not the absence of preparation. It is the willingness to obey Christ wholeheartedly after wise preparation has been made.
Falk Scissek has been a risk and crisis manager for over 10 years. Through the Biblical Risk Academy, he helps Christian workers and organizations navigate risk through online and in-person training and coaching. biblical-risk-academy.com
All Scripture quotations are from the NIV.
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