Tuesday, July 14, 2020

The Twelve Apostles

Continuing with Fouard's Life of Christ:

Chapter II: The Twelve Apostles


Mark iii. 7-15; Luke vi. 12-19; Matt. x. 2-4

If during this retirement of the Lord the fury of His pursuers slackened; soon He was free to appear openly among men.  "A great throng followed Him out of Galilee, Jerusalem, Idumea, and from the country beyond the Jordan; and others from roundabout Tyre and Sidon, having heard what things He did, came to Him in great numbers.  Then He told His disciples to have a boat ready for Him, so that He might not be overwhelmed by the multitude; for He had healed so very many that it resulted in all those who had any illness pressing upon Him to touch Him; and the unclean spirits when they saw Him fell at His feet crying out: "Thou art the Son of God!" And he charged them, with great threats, that they should not make Him known.

Here we find the Lord in His Ministry bearing Himself just as we have seen Him hitherto at Capharnaum, consecrating His days by turns to the instruction of the people, to the healing of the sick, and to the deliverance of the possessed.

After one such day of wearisome labour, Jesus "withdrew to a mountain, and there spent the whole night in prayer." Certain traditions single out a hill lying between Capharnaum and Tiberias as the scene of this night-watch and of the Sermon which follows upon it.  The Christians call it the Mount of the Beatitudes; the Arabs name for it is Kourn Hattin (The Horns of Hattin), in allusion to the two peaks which rise above the village of that name.  To the west the hillside slopes gently up from the rolling meadows; to the east, on the contrary, its steep cliffs overlook a level stretch of ground, big and wide enough to hold a great multitude.  In the hill country bordering this side of the lake we might seek in vain for any other highlands worthy the name of mountain.  So, then, this is the spot to which we must follow the Lord.

As all times Jesus loved the lonely heights, the quiet of evening, the midnight sky with the glittering array of heavenly hosts; in the stillness His glance could pierce the depths until it was absorbed in the Vision of the Father; here unhindered His soul could taste of that mysterious rest which is born of prayerful ecstasy.  Yet this one night out on the hilltops had, in truth, something of a more solemn glory in it; we feel by the very words in which Saint Luke speaks of it that it was to be the forerunner of a great day. In the dawning light Jesus called to Him His disciples, who were slumbering, as we may fancy, at no great distance, and "from among them He chose out twelve, to whom He gave the name of Apostles.

The Master by this act, to all outward seeming so simple, there and then laid the massive foundations of a Work which was destined to be seen of all men and to withstand the fiercest onslaught of the foe.  Growing ever more majestic upon our vision as we watch her progress down the ages, we must recall to mind the while how this Heaven-sent Church, built up under the Master-Workmen's hand, had for its mighty base simply these Twelve Apostles.  At that time there was nothing about them to mark them from the masses; we have seen, and we have still to see for a long time to come, how ignorant they were, how ambitious, so much more engrossed in the things of the flesh than in the things of the Spirit.  But the Hand which had gathered together from out the dark quarries of Earth these rough and heavy blocks by the same supernal strength could cut and polish them.  So Saint John once saw in the bulwarks of the Heavenly Jerusalem just such huge bulks of stone, hewn from the shapeless rock; and the same will become twelve precious stones, whose glowing depths of colour now uphold the glorious city of our God, our holy Habitation in the Heavens.

Was there any thought in Jesus’ mind of the symbolic significance in the number He had chosen?  Did He mean in this way to recall those Twelve Tribes of Israel, just as the Highly Priest used to bear upon his breast twelve great gems as a memorial of them?  Many such conjectures have been hazarded, and indeed there is good ground for similar concepts when we think how much stress was laid on the hidden meaning of numbers in olden times.  The Pagans were not alone in their belief that strange properties were to be found in such combinations; the Jews and the first Fathers of the Church as well, scrutinise them with careful curiosity; and it is impossible to deny that very many of the numbers in Scripture itself have a mystic purport.  So that we have in this way really a secret language, highly prized by those were versed in its unique charms, like the full harmony which sustains the song by setting its pure melody in higher relief.  Why should Jesus have scorned this feeling?  Rather He deigned to make use of it; and thus in this point as in so many others, He availed Himself of every usage of the world about Him.  We may willingly grant, not only that He did not choose this number without a purpose, but that He attached so much importance to it that His disciples felt that their first duty after the Ascension, was to complete the role of the Apostolic College by the election of Saint Matthias.

Of the Twelve Apostles seven had been chosen already.  These were: Peter and Andrew, the two sons of Jonas; then the sons of Zebedee, James and John; Philip, who came from Bethsaïda, like the first four; Bartholomew, from Cana in Galilee; and Matthew, the Publican.  Jesus now called five others: His two cousins, James the Less and Jude (Lebbeus, or Thaddeus); the Galileans, Thomas and Simon the Zealot; finally, the traitor, — the man from Kerioth in Judaea, Judas, son of Simon.  For the most part we know little enough of these Apostles, their names, some few words spoken by them, certain deeds of theirs mentioned in the Gospels or the Acts, a number of traditions as to their after life, — altogether hardly enough to furnish yards with materials for the sketch of each one of them.

Bartholomew. J-J Tissot.
Bartholomew is the least known of all it has been agreed that he is the Nathaniel whom Philip found meditating under a fig tree, and leads to his divine Master.  Truthfulness and godliness were the keynotes of his character; undoubtedly with these he combined modesty, for from the
 in which he obeyed the call of God we never see or hear anything more of the son of Tolmaï.  There is a tradition which tells of his having evangelise to the Indies'; that he was burned alive, and crucified with his head downwards.







Philip (John xiv. 8-14). J-J Tissot
His friend Philip was among the first of the Galileans who were moved to seek John the Baptist, hoping to finding him the longed for Messiah.  The Gospel speaks of his gentle spirit, readily responding to Jesus' appeals, sympathising with the distress of the throngs that followed the Master into the desert, but slow to believe that a few loaves would be enough to satisfy them; slower still to fathom the Mysteries of faith, for even at the Last Supper he begs the Saviour to let him see the Father of whom He is always speaking. Polycratus,  Bishop of Ephesus, informs us that Philip had been married; his daughters were numbered among the first Virgins; and he himself slept in the Lord at Hierapolis, in Phrygia.



Simon the Zealot. J-J Tissot.
As to Simon, we really know that he was called the Cananean, a name which Saint Luke translates as the Zealot; and this term was also used to distinguish him from Simon Peter.  Can it be that this Apostle belonged to that famous sect which revenged every transgression of the Law, not simply with burning reproaches, like the Prophets of old, but like Phineas, with unsheathed sword?  We know what part these Zealots played in the last days of Jerusalem; how they became the terror and scourge of the whole countryside, making it wreak with blood, spreading ruin and death on every hand.  Would Jesus have called one of these fanatics to Him; would He have thought it wise to admit into equal fellowship this Jew, Simon, who rebelled against every tribute extorted by the hated foreigners, and Levi, collector of the Roman taxes?  Yet in this there would be nothing repugnant to the plans of the Master, for He made little account of human prudence in His works, and "chose that which is foolishness in the world's eyes to confound the wise, so that no man should glorify himself before Him."


Matthew. J-J Tissot.
Matthew has left behind him more than a name, a divine Book, his Gospel.  In it he speaks in one single instance of himself, and that is only to tell us he was a Publican, a butt for the contempt and hatred of Israel, but that nevertheless Jesus chose him.










Thomas. J-J Tissot.
Thomas's character may be more clearly deciphered.  With a frank, practical spirit, which was easily bewildered by the Mysteries of faith, he declared with perfect simplicity, even in the very midst of the Last Supper, that he could not understand the words of the Lord.

"Master," said he, "we do not know where you are going, nor which way the road lies."

After all Jesus' Ministry was finished, after all His miracles, Thomas had not become grounded in the firm faith that He was God; after the Resurrection we see him still unable to put trust in this new wonder, — dejected, despairing, demanding that the Master permit him to touch His wounds with his hands before he would believe.  And notwithstanding, he had a generous heart; for when Jesus braved the wrath of the Jews face to face, that He might raise up Lazarus from the dead, it was Thomas who incited the Apostles with those words which all our Martyrs have repeated after him: —
"Come, let us also go and died with Him!"

James and Jude, the two sons of Alpheus and Mary, we have already seen at their home in Nazareth.  Throughout the whole ministry of Jesus they continued to be just what they were then, — hard-working mechanics, whose minds were filled with longings for earthly goods.  It needed the descent of the Holy Ghost on the day of Pentecost to transform these kinsman of the Lord into Apostles, to inspire Jude with that mighty Epistle of his, and to make of James the Less one of the most illustrious Bishops of the newborn church.

James the Less. J-J Tissot.
As Pastor of Jerusalem during nearly thirty years, the latter, fostered and strengthened the perfect good-will which bound the Pagan and Jewish converts together; at the first Council he suggested the wisest resolutions, and it was he who protected St. Paul against the unreasoning and fanatic partisans of Judaism.  All Jews who became Christians held this servant of God in veneration as their leader, and cherished with deep respect his Epistle, addressed "to the twelve tribes dispersed throughout the world," in which the Apostle scourges the vices of his fellow-countrymen, their strifes, their haughty and grasping character.  The later years of James were passed in prayer; kneeling whole days and nights together in the Temple, he delayed by his intercession the ruin which overhung Jerusalem like a dark storm-clouds; indeed he was " the Rampart of his People," according to a commons saying among his contemporaries.  His death was worthy of such a life.  At the Festival of the Pasch, the High Priest Ananias and the Council of the Sanhedrin commanded him to exhort the Jews to give up their faith in Jesus.  The holy old man allowed them to lead him out upon one of the galleries of the Temple, and promised them he would speak to the people, but it was only that he might seize one last chance to glorify his Master.

"Wherefore would you question me concerning Jesus;" he cried out.  "He is seated at the right hand of the Almighty, and will appear again upon the clouds of Heaven."

His furious persecutors fell upon him and threw him down upon the pavement below, and there they stoned him.  As he was dying, the aged Apostle drew himself up, and remained kneeling long enough to beseech God to forgive his executioners; whereupon a man who had armed himself with a fuller’s mallet strode up and put an end to his sufferings.  His people buried him close by the Temple.  Eight years later, Jerusalem was only a charred heap of ashes.

Peter and Andrew. J-J Tissot.
And now we have still to speak of the most illustrious of the apostles, Simon and Andrew, sons of Jonas; James and John, the sons of Zebedee.  These four fishermen of Bethsaïda form a group by themselves, and at their head we always find the Prince of the Apostles, Simon Peter.  The least known one among them is Andrew, whose personality is, as it were, overshadowed by his brother’s brilliant renown.  After having brought Simon to Jesus, he disappears in the background.  But if his life was hidden, his death shared such radiance about it, that the priests and deacons of Achaia sent tidings of the glorious event to the whole Church.  Their narrative enables us to follow, step by step, every act of the Martyr, the examination, the replies of Andrew, and his protracted tortures.  He died upon the cross, uttering such cries of love for Jesus as thrilled the hearts of those whose soul the sound re-echoed, while they wept in silence.

James and John. J-J Tissot.
Beside Andrew, there are Peter, James, and John, who are always the chosen ones among the chosen few, the intimate companions whom the Master admitted to His confidence and familiar friendship.  We see them, the only ones present at the raising of Jaïrus' daughter; the only ones at the Transfiguration; the only ones at the Agony of the Saviour.  Jesus has told us what made Him so particularly attached to the to the sons of Zebedee; it was because their great hearts burned in fierce flashes, like the lightning; whence it was that He gave them that beautiful name, "Sons of the Thunderbolt," Boanerges.  They had something of its resistless rush, and sometimes, too, its destructive wrath.  Witness the day when they called down the fire of heaven upon a Samaritan village which refused to harbour them.  They had inherited this unbounded zeal from Salome, their mother.  Having devoted herself to the Saviour’s cause, faithfully following Him even to His Cross, the wife of Zebedee the fisherman dared to dream of a place for her sons at the side of the Christ, and upon His Throne.  Jesus tried to curb this ambition by reminding them that His Glory was to be bought at the price of suffering.

"Can you drink of My Chalice?" He asked.

"That we can," instantly replied the sons of Salome.

This confidence touched the Lord; and it was then He granted to James that, before all others, he should not only drink this cup of sorrow, but that he should rein it in a single draught.  His zeal marked him out for a victim to the sword of Herod Agrippa, and he in fact was the first of the Apostles to meet the Martyr’s  death.

John the Beloved. J-J Tissot.
The other son of Salome was to survive them all.  Soaring above the earth, to the inaccessible heights of his heavenly home, he led a hidden life so long as Peter and Paul held the Christian world in the bonds of faith.  But at the end of the first century, when the Witnesses of the holy Word had vanished one by one, and when heresy threatened the youthful Church, the voice of John pierced the cloud.  His Gospel, the Epistle which announced it, and the Apocalypse, were like so many sheets of lightning, now dazzling our sight, now thrilling as with peals of thunder, now blinding our eyes when we would descry the outlines of his awful visions: the showers of fire and blood; the Cups of gold overflowing with Wrath; the Steeds, with serpents for their manes and tails, having breastplates of fire, breathing out flame and brimstone; the Red Dragon, with the Seven heads and the ten horns, drawing together with his tail a third part of the stars of the sky, and hurling them down upon the earth.  Thus it was, with a loud voice, that the Seer of Patmos was constrained to reveal the great matter of his ecstasies.  Christian Art has been prone to sink these raptures of the Apostle into the shadow, and so we are too apt to forget them; painting has rather accorded him every grace of youth, with his eyes lifted up to the heavens, often with an almost virginal timidity.  Undoubtedly "the disciple Jesus loved" had great tenderness of heart, but his was a heart which throbbed in unison with the soul of fire; and it was this latter trait which won for him the Master’s love when He called him, "Son of the Thunder;" and in like manner it moves us most strongly when we see the Apostle drawing away in horror from the heretic Cerinthus, and filling the Apocalypse with those terrible and mysterious images.  John's rightful emblem is not the Dove, but the Eagle.  This passionate ardour, penetrated with the deepest tenderness, drew him to the Heart of Jesus, and made John the Beloved Disciple.

Simon Peter. J-J Tissot.
The character of Simon, son of Jonas, presents no such opposite traits.  The it is all summed up in the name which Jesus bestowed on him: "Thou art Peter, and upon this And rock I will build My Church." The great Apostle, therefore, was to serve as the Foundation of the Church, was to be for his brethren as a Guide and infallible Head.  And after the election of the Twelve, the Lord made known these prerogatives of Peter so publicly and so emphatically, in order that all might bow before him.  Ever after this day we find him speaking and acting in their name.  At Capharnaum, when the Master demanded sadly,

"And you, — will you too go away?" It was he who responded, in the name of all the rest, —

"Lord, to whom should we go?  You have the words of eternal life!"

It was he who, at Caesarea, in the land of Philip, once again proclaimed the faith of the Apostles, —

"Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God."

This lofty dignity conferred upon him became the occasion of his fall; it puffed him up with Vain -Glory, turned his energy into presumption, his firmness into blind obstinacy; it went so far as to make him openly contradict his Master, and drew down upon him that severe reply,

"Get thee gone, Satan!  Thou art a scandal unto me, for thy thoughts are not of God, but of man."

Peter wept bitterly. J-J Tissot.
At the close of the ministry of Jesus, Simon, son of Jonas, is not any longer the immovable rock, but like a loose stone in the road, which a woman's hand may fling aside into the ditch.  Yet even then it was not all over with Peter, since after his overthrow he but made for himself a surer abiding place, and in his sorrow found firmer foundations.  Overwhelmed with his humiliation, he nevertheless rose up in "the greatness of the power of God." Henceforth, neither his faith nor his mighty courage were ever to fail him; we encounter him everywhere at the head of his brethren, the first to grope his way within the tomb of Jesus, and to gaze upon his Risen Lord; the first to get into the little ship to go to meet the Saviour; first, too, to drag up on the shore the net, which had not broken beneath the weight of its 153 fishes.

Before He went away from their sight into the skies, Jesus laid upon Peter the Charge of pasturing His flock, to feed His sheep, as well as His lambs.  The Apostle fulfilled the command of the Lord, stood at their head, ordered their manner of teaching and the form of their government, and by stamping the newborn Faith with his seal, gave it the character which it was to bear unto all future ages, making the first acts of the infant Church the Acts of Peter.

In the Apostolic College there is still one gloomy figure left, which each of the Evangelists thrusts down to the lowermost rank, — Judas, son of Simon, the man from Kerioth.  Jesus us to only one Apostle from Judaea, and Judaea gave Him a traitor.  All that we know of him, apart from the tale of his treachery, is that his skill in the management of money won him his position of trust as Treasurer of the Apostles.  Hence he must have gained their confidence from the outset; and indeed he retained it up to that last Passover, for it was at his instigation that they murmured against the Magdalen, as she poured out her perfumes upon the head of Jesus.  Though he grew ever more depraved and desperate, the man from Kerioth had always succeeded in blinding their eyes; so that on the night of the Last Supper, when the Lord foretold the crime in whose shadow they sat, no one dreamed of charging Judas with it; only the calm glance of Jesus could read the heart of the thief.  How many were the words spoken by the the Saviour to the multitude which in the ears of this faithless follower must have resounded in tones of appeal or reproach!  Now He is urging them to true charity: "Do not heap up treasures upon the earth....  There, where your heart is, there is your treasure also....  You cannot serve God and Mammon." Now He gives utterance to His feeling of horror: "Have I not chosen you Twelve?  And there is one among you who is a devil!" The divine Master could not resolve to abandon "this son of perdition." At Gethsemane, once more, He kissed him, and called him His friend.

Composed of such different characters, the College of the Apostles stands before us, from all we can know of its members.  Henceforward they were to form a little band of chosen ones about the the Saviour, journeying with Him throughout Judaea, sharing His labours and His repasts; like Him, they had not where to rest their head, and often laid themselves down by his side without other roof than the starry heavens, with no shelter save the providence of God their Father.




Totus tuus ego sum 
Et omnia mea tua sunt;
Tecum semper tutus sum:
Ad Jesum per Mariam 

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