DO YOU OWN an iPhone? How about an Apple Watch? A MacBook? If you do, you’re not alone. Recent statistics suggest that the iPhone continues to dominate the U. S. cellphone market, and that there are as many as 1.5 billion iPhone users worldwide. Some estimate that one out of every four smartphones in the world is an iPhone. Considering that the original iPhone was released in 2007 under the leadership of Steve Jobs, it’s breathtaking to consider the speed at which it created a whole new market, such that we’re now dependent on our smartphones (some would say “addicted to,” and for good reason), and take the technology for granted.

That kind of visionary, risk-taking innovation was the hallmark of Steve Jobs’ career, and when he resigned his post as CEO due to failing health, many doubted that his successor, Tim Cook, could keep Jobs’ legacy going. Whatever one might say about the creativity of new Apple products and iPhone releases, one thing is clear: financially speaking, Cook was an enormously successful CEO. Over his 15-year tenure, Apple’s value increased more than tenfold. Not many CEOs can make that kind of claim.

Succession planning is important to the continued health and growth of an organization. That’s true even of churches. One of the greatest gifts our founding pastor gave to our congregation was an 18-month notice of his retirement. He set the resources and processes in place for a thorough pastoral search, then took a hands-off approach. As a result, the hiring of his replacement was nearly seamless and free of controversy, and we’ve been the beneficiaries of that foresight ever since. It grieves me to think how many congregations suffer poor transitions of leadership. It’s not always their fault, of course; some transitions are sudden and unexpected. But sooner or later, the transition will come, and it’s prudent to have a plan in place.

After all, even Jesus seemed to have a succession plan.

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SINCE CHAPTER 4 of Luke’s gospel, we’ve been watching the growth of Jesus’ popularity and ministry—and with it, the growth of opposition from the scribes and Pharisees. In the story of Jesus healing the man with the withered hand, Luke doesn’t explicitly say that the Pharisees wanted to kill him, but Mark’s version of the story does, and at any rate, Luke already told us in chapter 4 that Jesus’ former neighbors in Nazareth made an attempt on his life. What we’re witnessing in the narrative is the steady unfolding of what Jesus already knew in advance: that the opposition against him would eventually result in his arrest and crucifixion.

And what Luke knows, as the writer of both the third gospel and the book of Acts, is that Jesus’ disciples would carry on his mission after his death, resurrection, and ascension back to the Father. That wasn’t an accident, nor the disciples’ idea; it was Jesus’ plan. He would send the Holy Spirit to empower them, and they would be his witnesses “in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth” (Acts 1:8, NIV).

Thus, immediately following the two stories of the tension between Jesus and his opponents on matters related to the Sabbath, we read this:

One of those days Jesus went out to a mountainside to pray, and spent the night praying to God. When morning came, he called his disciples to him and chose twelve of them, whom he also designated apostles: Simon (whom he named Peter), his brother Andrew, James, John, Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Thomas, James son of Alphaeus, Simon who was called the Zealot, Judas son of James, and Judas Iscariot, who became a traitor. (Luke 6:12-16, NIV)

By now, we should be used to Luke’s vague time references. Did the selection of the Twelve happen a day after Jesus healed the man with the shriveled hand? Two days, a week, a month? Could it even have happened before? Luke doesn’t care to say.

But if we assume that Luke is trying to do more than just give us a bare chronology of events, then it’s meaningful that this story follows on the heels of the previous one. The description of a night of diligent prayer gives the story a sense of urgency, as if it were a consequence of the growing hostility against him—hostility that would eventually end his earthly ministry. It’s important for him, therefore, to choose from among his many followers the men who will be his inner circle, the ones who will later inherit the ministry as his “apostles.”

To be a disciple is to follow the teaching of Jesus, and given the success of his teaching and healing ministry, Jesus had many disciples. But to be an apostle more specifically means to be sent, to be an ambassador of Jesus authorized to speak in his name. Indeed, as you might expect, the notion of apostleship is particularly important to Luke as the author of the book of Acts. Matthew and Mark each use the word “apostle” only once, but Luke uses it seven times in his gospel and another twenty-eight times in Acts.

A Jew reading this story would probably attach significance to the fact that Jesus prayed on a mountain, for mountains were often associated with divine revelation in the Old Testament. Jesus didn’t just pray out of habit and then glance at his to-do list and remember that he had planned to choose twelve apostles the next day. Rather, he was committing the choice to earnest prayer, praying all night to the Father and seeking his will regarding the selection.

The Twelve, in other words, weren’t chosen by lot. They were chosen intentionally as a result of seeking the Father’s guidance. And this is where it gets interesting: what are we to make of the fact that the list includes the one Luke describes as “Judas Iscariot, who became a traitor”?