by Beth Moore
Paul used far fewer words to describe the outcome in Galatians 2:9. He simply said, "James, Peter and John, those reputed to be pillars, gave me and Barnabas the right hand of fellowship." Fanett, my high school English teacher, would be appalled at the poor English Paul used when he said "me and Barnabas," but in Greek the reference of first person comes first.'
Picture the five men mentioned in Galatians 2:9 conferring together and giving approval to one another: James, the unbelieving mocker turned preacher; Peter, the one sifted like wheat, denying Christ three times then having enough faith to return and strengthen his brothers; John, the Son of Thunder, who asked if he could sit at Christ's side in the kingdom and destroy the Samaritans with fire from heaven; Paul, a former religious madman who approved the murder of Stephen and helped fuel a persecution that resulted in James's death; Barnabas, the son of encouragement, who risked getting hammered by the early church by building a bridge between unlikely brothers.
That's just it. We're all unlikely brothers. In Christ's church the pillars were never designed to match. Each one is distinct. What need would cookie-cutter disciples meet? Not only does Christ choose variegated pillars, everything else within His church is marked by His creative distinctiveness as well. None of us were meant to match. We were meant to fit together. Two identical puzzle pieces don't "fit." Oh, that we would celebrate that difference on one ultimate basis.
Do you remember what Paul said James, Peter, and John recognized in him that caused them to extend the right hand of fellowship? They "gave me and Barnabas the right hand of fellowship when they recognized the grace given to me" (Gal. 2:9).
First Peter 4:10 echoes the same concept: "Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God's grace in its various forms." Beloved, we don't have to agree on every single point of doctrine. We don't even have to always get along.
Galatians 2 continues with the record of a fairly heated argument between Peter and Paul. God does, however, expect us to respect one another and acknowledge the grace of God extended to all who are in Christ. Paul came to the leaders in private, but the inference of the right hand of fellowship tells us they gave him a very public stamp of approval. One he needed and one I believe God would have held the pillars in the church responsible for not extending.
To fulfill our kingdom purposes on earth, we could all use a right hand of fellowship from another in ministry, couldn't we? When I think back on those God so graciously appointed to extend such a hand to me, I am deeply humbled and awed. I have been asked countless times how John Bisagno, the longtime pastor of my home church, handled this ministry coming out of his church. Beloved, he didn't just handle it. He pushed it! For years the only reason people invited me to come to their church was because they trusted him!
Did Brother John know I had a lot to learn? Perhaps more than anyone else. So did my mentor, Marge Caldwell. Did he agree with everything I taught or did? I doubt it. Yet they both continued to work with me, give me a chance to grow, and let me develop into my own person and not cookie-cutter images of them. They each extended me the right hand of fellowship for one reason. They recognized the grace of God in my once broken life. Boy howdy, has there been a heap of it.
I want to share one more personal example with you. When LifeWay approached me with a contract to tape the first series, A Woman's Heart: God's Dwelling Place
, I was pitifully wet behind the ears. I don't know much about what I'm doing now, but I assure you I knew nothing then. I was petrified. The enemy came against me with such conflict and fear, I think I would have backed out had I not signed a contract. I felt like I needed advice desperately and needed someone to tell me whether my feelings were normal. I still feel like an idiot over what I did next, but I was desperate. I called Kay Arthur's office and asked to speak to her. I had no idea what I was doing. I had never seen her in person or had the privilege of taking one of her courses. Don't get the idea that I in any way saw a comparison. I just wanted to talk to a woman who had taught the Word on videotape no matter what gulf of knowledge and experience separated us.
God wasn't about to let me get in touch with Kay Arthur. First of all, He wanted me to rely on Him alone. Furthermore, He knew He had already extended the right hand of fellowship to me through sufficient people. I also believe God knew how extremely impressionable I was at that time and that I had not yet allowed Him to fully develop my style. I have so much respect for Kay that if I could have, I would have wanted God to make me just like her. What need whatsoever would God have had for such a thing? Kay does an excellent job of being Kay, so why on earth would God have wanted me to approach Bible study in exactly the same way? He already had her!
Today I could pick up the phone and call Kay, and we could laugh and talk for an hour if we had the time. I will never see myself worthy enough to help her with her heels, but I call her a friend. We met privately five or six years ago, but through the years both of us felt the call of God to do something far more public.
Each of us has gone out of our way to demonstrate publicly that we are united in Christ Jesus and we serve the same God ... albeit with different styles. I have taught some of her books. Kay has invited me to several of her conferences to lead prayer and to speak. She has extended to me something more precious than gold: the right hand of fellowship. She knows I have a lot to learn. We wouldn't agree on every interpretation. She is simply a woman who recognizes grace when she sees it. I am so grateful.
Fourteen years lapsed between the time Paul first tried to fit in with the apostles and when he finally received the right hand of fellowship. I'd like to suggest the hand didn't come a moment behind schedule. What use would God have had for Paul if he simply turned out to be another James? Another Peter? Another John? His mission was distinct. And so, Beloved, is yours. God knows what He's doing! Trust Him. God is busy making you someone no one else has ever been.
Chapter 19
LESSONS FROM OBSCURITY
From that time on, this disciple took her into his home. (John 19:27)
Next we arrive at a very intriguing place. One characterized not by John's appearance but by his conspicuous absence. In the next chapter we will begin turning our attentions to John's writings, but let's not hurry. First let's glance at the great apostle's role in the Book of Acts then tarry over his disappearance from the pages. I am convinced that what John didn't do may have nearly as much to say as what he did.
Acts 12:2 is the last mention Luke makes of John as he refers to his brother's death. I am very intrigued by the fact that Luke mentions John only a handful of times in the annals of the early church, and he never quoted John. Our dear protagonist appears only as an aside to Peter. While the Book of Acts traces almost every move of a converted persecutor named Saul, after James's death, John's ministry continues with very little notice.
I wonder what the apostles thought about Paul gaining so much of the spotlight. I think we'd be pretty naive to think they didn't notice. Galatians tells us John was a pillar of the church in Jerusalem, but we are told very little about him. John was in the audience of twelve when Christ told Peter He would build His church upon the foundation poured by the chip-off-the-old-block's testimony. After the resurrection John had also heard Christ tell Peter what his future held.
John may have felt that Peter at least had an important future ... even if it ultimately required his life. John, on the other hand, knew nothing about his own. All he may have known was that Peter's ministry was skyrocketing, and no one would argue that Paul was a household name.
John? Christ simply asked him to take care of his mother. Goodness knows he loved her. He took her into his home just like he promised, but somehow in the midst of the responsibility, neither Scripture nor traditions give us any indication he ever had a family of his own. Of course, to have known Mary so well was to gain priceless insight into Christ. After all, who knew Him better? Surely she recounted stories as the evening oil in t
he lamp grew scarce. Scripture paints John as curious, so I can't imagine that he failed to ask a thousand questions through the years. "What did Gabriel look like when he brought the news? Did you know instantly he was an angel? What was his voice like?" Or, "Did you almost lose hope that James and your other sons would ever believe?" Luke 2:19 tells us that "Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart." She certainly must have had much to say.
If Mary was like most aging mothers, I imagine she told the stories all the more and perhaps even repetitively as her life hastened toward its end. Many of the early church historians agree that John resided in Jerusalem until Mary died. I don't think I've ever meditated on Mary's death before. The New Testament records very little about the deaths of the members of the infant church. The Old Testament on the other hand bears many records of the deaths of saints. I can't help but wonder if-from God's standpoint-the cross and the resurrection made the deaths of His servants of little importance in the face of sudden glory.
Still, I wonder what Mary's home-going was like. If John and Christ's half-brothers had any notion she was dying, they were no doubt by her side. A natural death must have been so different to the eyewitnesses of the resurrected Lord Jesus. They knew firsthand the reality of life beyond the grave. Though they may have felt pain, they probably experienced little fear. Hebrews 2:14-15 tells us that Jesus shared our humanity so that "by his death he might destroy him who holds the power of death-that is, the devil-and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death."
Can you imagine how anxious Mary was to see her firstborn son? I have little doubt that those nearby reassured her through her final hours with words of their imminent encounter. Like all of us, God counted her steps and kept her tears in a bottle. Both were full and it was time. As He narrowed that solitary life to an earthbound close, He could easily see beyond the weathered face lined by time.
Surely God grinned as He remembered the astonishment on her adolescent face when she realized she had been chosen over every other woman who lived. A girl of most humble means would bear the Messiah. Then perhaps He laughed out loud as she broke into the praises recorded in Luke 1:46-55. The Greek translation of her words, "My spirit rejoices in God my Savior," intimates she was exulting with her whole inner being. The years that followed were tumultuous but exquisite. She had the unspeakable privilege of being a player in the plan of the ages.
I like to think Mary was surrounded by loved ones as she inhaled her last ounce of earthly air. I imagine her sons gathered around her. All of them. The one she adopted at the cross. And the One she surrendered to the grave. I wonder if they knew their Brother was right there among them ... more present in His invisibility than they could ever be. Mary bid farewell to mortality and was ushered to immortality on the arm of a handsome Prince. Her Son. Her God.
John's job was done. What now? Perhaps he did what we sometimes do. When I am confounded by what I don't know, I rehearse in my mind what I do know. He knew that the last thing Christ told the apostles was that they would be witnesses in Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, and the uttermost parts of the earth. I am of course offering supposition, but I wonder if he thought to himself, "I've served here in Jerusalem for years. I've preached to Samaritans, and I know Judea like the back of my hand. I'm no longer a young man. Who knows how much longer I have? I'm heading to the uttermost."
Beloved, listen. Christ's early followers were adventurers! They were pioneers! If they listened to us sit around and decide whether we had time to work in a Bible study with prison inmates around our nail appointments, they'd be mortified. In our postmodern era, church life is associated with buildings and programs. Church life to them was moving in the adrenaline and excitement of the Holy Ghost at the risk of life and limb. They were willing to do things we would reason couldn't possibly be the will of God (i.e., risking our necks) for the sheer joy of what lay before them. They ran the race. They didn't window shop.
I'm not meaning to be harsh, but I fear they might look at all of us and think virtually none of us looked like disciple material to them. But you know what I'd want to say to that first motley crew? "None of you looked like disciple material either when Christ dragged you from your safe little lives." My point? We can still become disciple material! I desperately want to! I want to live the Great Adventure. Don't you? Even if that Great Adventure leads me into virtual obscurity for a while. Stay tuned to see what I mean.
Most historians and scholars believe John moved to Ephesus but also traveled to Rome at some point. Some historians believe his trip to Rome came soon after his departure from Jerusalem, but I am inclined to believe the opposite order carries more circumstantial support. I think John settled in Ephesus first of all and that his venture to Rome happened before his exile in Patmos and probably led to it. R. Alan Culpepper, who is considered by many to be a modern-day expert on the life of John, wrote:
While the New Testament never mentions the activities of the apostle John in his later years, early Christian writers, though not unanimous, furnish strong evidence that he spent several decades in residence in Ephesus. The critical testimony is furnished by Irenaeus, bishop of Lyons (around A.D. 180-200): Afterwards, John, the disciple of the Lord, who also had leaned upon His breast, did himself publish a Gospel during his residence at Ephesus in Asia. (Against Heresies III. I. 1)
In The Two St. Johns, James Stalker added:
This is the statement of Irenaeus, who must have known the fact perfectly well, because he was a disciple of Polycarp, the martyr bishop of Hierapolis, and Polycarp was a disciple of John.
The latter part of St. John's life was spent in this region; and the city with which the unanimous tradition of early times associates him is Ephesus.
This city was situated on the Aegean coast, and it was one of the great centres of human life in that age; for Christianity, at its inception, had a predilection for large cities, whence its influence might radiate into the regions with which they were connected. Ephesus contained a great population and was a place of enormous wealth and activity.
Those familiar with the life of Paul may recall that he spent several crucial years ministering in Ephesus. Most scholars agree that John's time followed Paul's by a matter of years, but Luke's record of Paul's encounters adds important insights as we imagine John ministering there. Acts 19:8-20, 23-41 tells of the highly unusual supernatural works God performed through the apostle Paul. When I researched the study To Live Is Christ, the reason why God chose to do such astonishing works in Ephesus became clearer to me. Ancient Ephesus was one of the most pronounced centers of black magic in the entire world, so God made sure to perform works that wouldn't simply impress. They would baffle. James Stalker wrote of Ephesus:
Being connected by both land and sea with Syria and the countries beyond, it swarmed with those professors of black arts whom the East in that age poured in multitudes into the great cities of the West; and these preyed on the strangers from every shore who entered the harbor. The center, however, of degradation was the temple of Diana. This was reckoned one of the seven wonders of the world. It was larger than any known structure of the kind ... its worship was maintained by innumerable priests and priestesses ...
Obviously this was a place where the Gospel was urgently needed; and before it was visited by St. John the work of its evangelization had been vigorously begun. It had been the chief center on the third missionary journey of the Apostle Paul, to it he had devoted three whole years. At the end of that time he was violently driven forth; but his work remained, and St. John, when he arrived, entered on the heritage left by his predecessor.
Nothing is said about John's specific ministry after James's death, and nothing at all is recorded about his tenure in Ephesus. Though we have much information about Paul's ministry there, we know virtually nothing about John's. As far as we are concerned, John served in biblical obscurity for a measure of years. And, Beloved, that is precisely the most impo
rtant point of this chapter.
Did John start doubting his identity and his significance somewhere along the way? Peter was no doubt the front-runner in Jerusalem and the early church. Next to him, the Book of Acts implies James, the half-brother of Christ, was most prominent. Furthermore, John went to Ephesus and built on the foundation laid by none other than Paul, the former persecutor and latecomer onto the scene.
You may be thinking, But what difference does that make? In an ideal world, none. But this is no ideal world. In the dead of the night when insecurities crawl on us like fleas, all of us have terrifying bouts of insecurity and panics of insignificance. Our human natures fall pitifully to the temptation at times to pull out the tape measure and gauge ourselves against people who seem far more gifted and anointed by God.
John went on to outlive every other apostle while all of them were counted worthy to give their lives for the sake of Christ. Did he ever wonder if he were too unimportant to even be considered a threat enough to kill?
We may want to think he was surely too mature and filled with the Holy Spirit to have such thoughts, but keep in mind this is the same disciple who asked to sit at one of Jesus' sides in the kingdom. Yes, John was a new creature, but if Satan worked on him anything like he works on me, he targeted his weak times and hit him again with the same brand of temptations that worked in the old days. John's old fleshly desires for significance had been goliath. I can't imagine Satan not trying to pinpoint them again. How about you? When you're weak, down, or tired, doesn't Satan occasionally try to awaken some of the temptations of the old man of flesh in you?
One way we have to respond is by choosing to believe what we know rather than what we feel. If John struggled with his identity in the era of the early church, that's exactly what he must have done. We know because of the virtually incomparable fruit produced after years of relative obscurity. In spite of others seeming more powerfully used by God and in the midst of decades hidden in the shadows, John remained tenacious in his task.