13  The Master’s   Men-part 2  Andrew, James the   son of Zebedee,  John (10:2b)

and Andrew his brother; and James the son of Zebedee, and John his brother;
(10:2b)

Along with Peter, the leading disciple (the foremost, or “first,” v. 10:2a), these three men composed Jesus’ inner circle of four. Like Peter, they do not appear on the surface to be ideal candidates for becoming apostles and the foundation of the church. Yet from the accounts of these men both in the gospels and the rest of the New Testament, we learn that God is able to use in His service any kind of person who submits to the lordship of Jesus Christ.

The apostles, and especially these four who are the best known of them, are often looked on as “stained glass saints.” They have been frequently portrayed with halos above their heads and benign expressions on their faces. Not only children but cathedrals, chapels, cities, and towns are named after them. Their names are often preceded by Saint, adding to the notion that they were on a completely different plane of spiritual existence from other human beings, including other Christians.

But although they had an uncommon calling, the apostles were common men, much like the rest of us. They were saints only in the sense that every believer is a saint, made holy unto God through the imparted righteousness of Jesus Christ and awaiting the full perfection of sainthood in heaven (Rom. 1:7; 1 Cor. 1:2; Phil. 3:12-14; Heb. 11:40; Jude 14). Until then, they, like all saints, had to live with the weakness of their humanness.

ANDREW

Andrew was Peter’s brother, and his name means “manly.” Like his brother, he was a native of Bethsaida (John 1:44) and was a fisherman on the Sea of Galilee. Even before he met Jesus, Andrew was a godly, dedicated Jew. He and John were disciples of John the Baptist, and when that prophet declared of Jesus, “Behold, the Lamb of God!” they left the Baptist and began to follow Jesus (John 1:36-37). Andrew then “found first his own brother Simon, and said to him, ‘We have found the Messiah’ (which translated means Christ)” (v. 41). Peter and Andrew lived together (Mark 1:29) and doubtlessly shared everything with each other. It was therefore compelling for Andrew to share with Peter the most important discovery of his life.

Subsequent to his confession of Jesus as the Messiah, however, Andrew had returned to his fishing. A while later, as Jesus was “walking by the Sea of Galilee, He saw two brothers, Simon who was called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea; for they were fishermen. And He said to them, ‘Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men’” (Matt. 4:18-19). It was at this time that Jesus actually called the two men into discipleship training, and from that point on these two brothers, along with the other two brothers, James and John, became Jesus’ most intimate friends. But though he was greatly respected by his fellow disciples and is always spoken of favorably in the few accounts in which he is mentioned, Andrew was apparently never quite as close to the Lord as the other three and is usually referred to as Peter’s brother.

In the synoptic gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke) Andrew is not mentioned except in the lists of the twelve disciples. And in only three accounts in John’s gospel do we find any information about him more than his name.

First, John tells us of Andrew’s previous discipleship to John the Baptist, his confession of Jesus as the Messiah, and his reporting to Peter his discovery and introducing him to the Lord (John 1:37-42). From his first encounter with Jesus, Andrew demonstrated an eagerness to introduce others to His Lord, and the desire to witness characterized his entire ministry.

Second, John tells us of Andrew’s involvement in Jesus’ feeding the five thousand on the far side of the Sea of Galilee. When Philip expressed bewilderment at Jesus’ question, ‘“Where are we to buy bread, that these may eat?… Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, said to Him, ‘There is a lad here who has five barley loaves and two fish, but what are these for so many people?’” (John 6:5-9). He, too, was puzzled about Jesus’ question, but he did as much as he could in response to it and located some food. The barley loaves were rather small, much like biscuits or large crackers, and were often eaten with fish preserved by pickling so that they could be carried to work as a lunch or on trips away from home. Andrew’s bringing the boy to Jesus suggests that he believed his Master could somehow make more of this small amount of food.

Third, John depicts Andrew bringing others to the Lord. When some God-fearing Gentiles came to Philip asking to see Jesus, “Philip came and told Andrew; Andrew and Philip came, and they told Jesus” (John 12:20-22). Although Philip himself was one of the twelve, he apparently felt less than comfortable approaching Jesus alone and asked Andrew to accompany him.

From these three accounts we can discern several insights into the character of Andrew. First of all we see his openness and lack of prejudice. He knew that the disciples’ first priority, but not their only task, was to take the gospel to their fellow Jews, “the lost sheep of the house of Israel” (Matt. 10:6). But he also must have known that the person to whom Jesus Himself first revealed His messiahship was a half-breed Samaritan woman, who trusted in Him and, like Andrew, immediately began telling others of Him (John 4:25-29, 40-42).

Andrew was also characterized by simple but strong faith. We do not know what was in his mind when he brought the boy with the loaves and fish to Jesus, but he obviously believed Jesus could make use of the boy and his food. He had seen Jesus make wine, and he probably saw no reason why He could not multiply food as well.

Andrew also appears to have been humble. Throughout his ministry he was known primarily as Peter’s brother, and he was never as intimate with Jesus or used by Him as publicly or dramatically as was his brother. And though he was part of the inner circle, Andrew seemed always to be in the shadow of Peter, James, and John. Yet there is no indication that he ever resented his position or function. He was content simply to belong to and serve Jesus, and no doubt to the end of his life was in awe of the fact that he was called to be an apostle at all. He cared more for his Lord and His work than he did for his own welfare or advantage, and he willingly sacrificed his own interests and comfort for the sake of others coming to the Lord. He showed nothing of the self-will and self-interest seen at times in Peter, James, and John.

Andrew is the model for all Christians who labor quietly in humble places and positions. He did not try to please men but God, and had no interest in building a reputation for himself. He would gladly have taken for himself Christina Rossetti’s words:

Give me the lowest place;

Not that I dare ask for that lowest place,

But Thou hast died that I might live

And share Thy glory by Thy side.

Give me the lowest place;

Or if for me the lowest place is too high,

Then make one more low

Where I may sit and see my God and love Him so.
(Cited in Herbert Lockyer, All the Apostles of the Bible [Grand
Rapids: Zondervan, 1972], p. 54.)

Andrew was that rare person who is willing to take second place, who is perfectly content to be in support of the more noticeable and acclaimed ministry of others, if that is where God wants him to be. He does not mind being hidden, so long as the Lord’s work is done. Here is the person that all leaders depend on and who are the backbone of every ministry. The cause of Christ is greatly dependent on the self-forgetting souls who are satisfied to occupy a small sphere in an obscure place, free from self-seeking ambition. Andrew was told that one day he would sit on one of the apostolic thrones and judge the twelve tribes of Israel (Matt. 19:28). But for him that unique honor was not cause for boasting but for humble awe and wonder.

The Scotsman Daniel McLean wrote of Andrew, the patron saint of Scotland:

Gathering together the traces of character found in Scripture [about Andrew], we find neither the writer of an Epistle, nor the founder of a Church, nor a leading figure in the Apostolic Age, but simply… an intimate disciple of Jesus Christ, ever anxious that others should know the spring of spiritual joy and share the blessing he so highly prized. A man of very moderate endowment, who scarcely redeemed his early promise, simple minded and sympathetic, without either dramatic power or heroic spirit, yet with that clinging confidence in Christ that brought him into that inner circle of the Twelve; a man of deep religious feeling with little power of expression, magnetic more than electric, better suited for the quiet walks of life than the stirring thoroughfares. Andrew is the apostle of the private life—the disciple of the hearth. (Cited in Lockyer, All the Apostles, pp. 55-56)

God uses people like Andrew, and only He can calculate their effectiveness. Sometimes it takes an Andrew to reach a Peter. An obscure Methodist preacher of the eighteenth century named Thomas Mitchell was an Andrew. His obituary read, “Thomas Mitchell, an old soldier of Jesus Christ, a man of slender abilities as a preacher, and who enjoyed only a very defective education.” Yet one of his friends wrote of him: “His earnest and loving work caused him to lead many people to Christ.” Though a man of “slender abilities” and “defective education,” he was nevertheless God’s means of bringing to Christ the great preacher Thomas Olivers.

Thomas Mitchell went to a little village in Lincolnshire, where he arose each morning at five o’clock to preach in the open air, as John Wesley often did. His preaching was so fiery that he was arrested and attacked by a mob as he was taken to the public house for a hearing before the village curate. The crowd convinced the curate to let them throw Mitchell into a filthy, slimy pond. Each time he managed to crawl out, the mob threw him back in. He was then painted from head to foot with white paint and taken again to the public house. After a long debate about what to do with him, they decided to drown him. He was thrown into a small lake outside the town, and each time he came to the surface, a man with a long pole would push him under again. Eventually he was taken out, more dead than alive. He was tirelessly cared for by a godly old lady of the village, but when the mob found out that he was recovering, they threatened to rend him limb from limb unless he promised never to preach again. He refused to make such a promise but somehow managed to escape the threatened punishment. He later wrote of the incident, “All the time God kept me in perfect peace and I was able to pray for my enemies.” For the rest of his life he continued to minister in obscure faithfulness. But by God’s standards and in God’s power, he was far from being “a man of slender abilities.” So was Andrew.

JAMES THE SON OF ZEBEDEE

The third man named in Matthew’s list of the first four disciples is James the son of Zebedee. In the gospel accounts, James never appears apart from his brother John, and during the three years of training under Jesus they were inseparable. Because James is always mentioned first, he was probably the older and more dynamic of the two. The brothers were fishing partners with their father, Zebedee, who was apparently fairly well-to-do, because he employed hired servants in his business (Mark 1:20).

Because so little is said of him, James appears in the gospels more as a silhouette than a detailed portrait. Jesus referred to James and John as “Boanerges, which means, ‘Sons of Thunder’” (Mark 3:17), and from that descriptive name alone we can assume James was passionate, zealous, fervent, and aggressive.

As Passion Week approached, Jesus sent several disciples ahead to make arrangements for lodging. Because they were traveling from Galilee, they would need to spend a night in Samaria on the way to Jerusalem. Jews and Samaritans had great religious and racial animosity for one another, and when the Samaritans refused to give accommodations to Jesus “because He was journeying with His face toward Jerusalem,” James and John said to Him, “Lord, do You want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” (Luke 9:52-54). The two brothers may have believed that the repentant Samaritan woman at Sychar and the others there who had trusted in Jesus as the Messiah were barely worthy of salvation (see John 4:25-42). But a Samaritan who refused even to provide the Lord a night’s lodging was, in their view, worthy only of instant execution. At that point James and John were hateful and intolerant, and their volatile and vengeful temperaments clouded over what they had heard Jesus teach and seen Him do. He therefore “turned and rebuked them, [and said, ‘You do not know what kind of spirit you are of; for the Son of Man did not come to destroy men’s lives, but to save them’]” (Luke 9:55-56).

James had much zeal but little sensitivity. In his resentment of the Samaritans’ rejection of Jesus he reflected a commendable commitment. It is good for God’s people to become incensed when He is dishonored and vilified (cf. Ps. 69:9; John 2:13-17). Jesus Himself was angered when His Father’s house was profaned (Matt. 21:12-13) and when hardness of heart made His opponents criticize even His healing the diseased and afflicted on the Sabbath (Luke 13:15-16). But Jesus did not return evil for evil (1 Pet. 2:23), and He forbids His followers to do so (Matt. 5:38-42).

When the mother of James and John, doubtlessly at their urging, asked Jesus to grant them seats on either side of His throne in the kingdom, the Lord asked them, “Are you able to drink the cup that I am about to drink?” Without hesitation they replied confidently, “We are able” (Matt. 20:21-22). Whether they instigated their mother’s request or not, they obviously thought it was perfectly appropriate. They had no reservations about their deserving the honor or their ability to meet any demands it might make of them.

From a human standpoint James and John displayed more natural reliability than Peter. They were not as vacillating and were not given to compromise or equivocation. But they were brazenly ambitious. The two who vengefully wanted to call down fire on the Samaritans are now seen also as self-serving place seekers, stalking the Lord for His patronage—unashamed of using their mother to gain their personal ends and oblivious of the fact that they were demeaning Christ and His kingdom.

When Herod wanted to attack and destroy the infant church, he singled out James for arrest and execution. The fact that he chose James first suggests that this apostle may have been more publicly noticeable and influential than even Peter or John. It was only after he saw that the murder of James pleased the Jews that Herod “proceeded to arrest Peter also” (Acts 12:1-3). At least in the king’s eyes, James seemed to be the most dangerous. He was probably thunderous and unrelenting in his ministry, and because of it became the first apostolic martyr.

Zeal is a great virtue, and the Lord needs those who are fearlessly aggressive. But zeal is also prone to be brash, loveless, insensitive, and lacking in wisdom. Insensitivity can destroy a ministry, and James had to learn to bridle his ambition and to love.

Some pastors who are orthodox in doctrine and morally upstanding are utterly insensitive to their congregations and their own families. The nineteenth-century writer Henrik Ibsen told of a Norwegian pastor who diligently followed the motto “All or nothing.” He was stern and uncompromising in everything he said and did. He zealously wanted to advance the kingdom of Christ, but he had no regard for the feelings of fellow believers. He wanted to uphold God’s standards of truth and holiness, but he was blind to His standards of love and kindness.

He was especially hard on his own family. When his little girl became seriously ill, he refused to take her out of the cold Norwegian climate to a warmer place, even though the doctor warned that not to do so would cost her life. The pastor responded with his usual “All or nothing,” and the girl soon died. Because the mother had found no love in her husband, her life had been completely centered in her little daughter. When the daughter died, the mother was so distraught and shattered that she would sit for hours fondling the clothes of her baby girl, trying to feed her starved heart with the empty garments. After a few days her husband took the clothes away and gave them to a poor woman on the street. The wife had hidden one little bonnet as a last reminder, but her husband soon found that and gave it away—after giving the grieving mother a lecture on “All or nothing.” In a few months the mother also died, a victim more of her husband’s misguided zeal than of her daughter’s untimely death.

The great evangelist Billy Sunday saw thousands of souls converted to Jesus Christ, but every one of his children died in unbelief, because he had had no time for them. Zeal without love is cruel and destructive. A person with flaming passion and enthusiasm for the Lord’s work but who tends to be intolerant and impatient is doubtlessly more usable than a lukewarm, uncommitted, and compromising person, who the Lord said is fit only to be spat out of His mouth (Rev 3:16). But intolerance and insensitivity are a tragic barrier to effective ministry and are never justified. Without love, the most dynamic and dedicated zeal—even in the Lord’s own work—is nothing (1 Cor. 13:1-3).

Jesus bridled James’s zeal and channeled His servant’s energy into fruitful ministry. James and John did indeed drink their Master’s cup, as He had predicted (Matt. 20:23). For John the cup was a long life of rejection and a death in exile. For James it was a short bright flame that brought martyrdom.

An ancient Roman coin depicted an ox facing both an altar and a plow, with the inscription “Ready for either.” That should be the attitude of every believer. James gave his life for the Lord as a brief and dying sacrifice, whereas John gave his as a long and living sacrifice of service.

JOHN

The last disciple mentioned in the first group is John, the brother of James. Unlike Andrew and James, John is one of the most prominent disciples in the New Testament. He not only figures prominently in the gospel accounts but wrote one of the gospels himself, as well as three epistles and the book of Revelation.

Because of his eventual gentleness and self-effacing attitude, we are sometimes inclined to think of John as being naturally retiring and mild mannered, perhaps even somewhat effeminate. But in his early years he was fully as much a “Son of Thunder” as James. He joined his brother in wanting to call down fire on the unbelieving Samaritans and in seeking a position next to the Lord in the kingdom. Like James, he was naturally intolerant, ambitious, zealous, and explosive, though perhaps not as much so.

It is interesting that the only time John is mentioned alone in the gospels is in an unfavorable light. On one occasion he came to Jesus and reported, “Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in Your name, and we tried to hinder him because he was not following us” (Mark 9:38). John appears prejudiced and sectarian, and he did not look favorably on those who were not affiliated with his own group, even if they were faithfully doing the Lord’s work.

Christians are justified in breaking fellowship with fellow believers who teach false doctrine and persist in immoral living; in fact are commanded to do so (Rom. 16:17-18; 1 Cor. 5:9-11; Gal. 1:8; 2 Thess. 3:6, 14). But exclusivism or sectarianism based on form, culture, status, race, color, wealth, appearance, or any other such superficiality is anathema to the Lord, in whom “there is neither Jew nor Greek,. . . slave nor free man,… male nor female; for [we] are all one in Christ Jesus” (Gal. 3:28).

Throughout his life, John remained uncompromising in doctrine and in standards of morality, but the Holy Spirit developed in him an unparalleled capacity for love, so much so that he is often called the apostle of love. It is apparent from his epistles that he did not slip into the foolish and tolerant sentimentality that often masquerades as love. During the rest of his life, which lasted until near the turn of the second century, he lost none of his intolerance for falsehood and immorality. Love without certain standards or strong convictions is as much a spiritual disaster as zeal without sensitivity. The Lord knew that, as far as the human author was concerned, the apostle who became the most powerful advocate of love would have to be a man who was also uncompromising of truth. Otherwise his love would take him down the road of destructive sentimentalism that is traveled by so many in the name of Christ.

In his five New Testament books John uses forms of the word love eighty times and witness or its synonyms some seventy times. He was always a witness to the truth and ever a teacher of love. Truth guarded his love, and love surrounded his truth.

John was also a discoverer, a seeker for truth. He was the first to recognize the Lord on the shore of Galilee and was the first disciple to see the risen Christ. It was to him that the Lord entrusted the revelation of future events in the Apocalypse. John did not lean on Jesus’ breast (John 13:23) because of maudlin sentimentality but because he had an insatiable hunger for Christ’s truth and fellowship. He wanted to gather every word that came from his Master’s lips and to bask continually in the warmth of His love.

That John’s love was controlled by God’s truth is nowhere seen more clearly than in his three epistles, in which his exhortations for love are always balanced by commands for truth and righteousness. He denounced the antichrist and those who sided with him. He rebuked the unloving and the disobedient. It was John that Jesus inspired to record His most sobering distinction between the saved and the unsaved, declaring that the one is the child of God and the other the child of Satan (John 8:41-44). Again and again John appealed to various witnesses to the truth he taught. He spoke of the witness of John the Baptist (John 1:7-8; 3:26), the witness of the miracles (John 5:36), the witness of the apostles (15:27), the witness of the Father (5:37), of the Son (18:37), and of the Holy Spirit and the water and blood (1 John 5:8).

But throughout his teaching John’s heart of love and compassion is revealed, and the reflection of his great capacity not only to teach but to exemplify love is manifest. People who love greatly can also be loved greatly, because they are eager to receive it as well as give it. John continually took in the love of Christ and continually gave it out. He so identified with Christ’s love that he referred to himself as the disciple whom Jesus loved (John 13:23; 19:26; 20:2; 21:7, 20). John could claim no greater honor for himself than being the apostle whom Jesus loved.

Tradition tells us that John did not leave the city of Jerusalem until Mary the mother of Jesus died, because the Lord had entrusted her into his care (John 19:26). The Lord said to Peter, “Tend My sheep” (John 21:17); but to John He said, in effect, “Take care of My mother.” John had a special love that Jesus knew would lead this disciple to treat Mary as his own mother.

John’s teaching on love might be summarized in ten truths that run through his writings. He taught that God is a God of love (1 John 4:8,16), that God loves His Son (John 3:35; 5:20) and is loved by His Son (14:31), that God loved the disciples (16:27; 17:23), that God loves all men (3:16), that Christ loved the disciples (13:34), that He loves all believers (1 John 3:1), that He expects all men to love Him (John 14:15, 21), that believers in Him should love one another (13:34; 1 John 4:11, 21), and that love fulfills all the commandments (14:23; l John 5:3).

From the lives of these three men, as from the lives of the other disciples, it becomes obvious that the Lord uses a variety of people. Andrew was humble, gentle, and inconspicuous. He saw the individual more than the crowd. He was not a dynamic evangelist, but he continually brought people to Jesus Christ. James, like Peter, was dynamic, bold, and a natural leader. He initiated, took charge, and moved ahead; but he could also be self-willed, self-assured, prejudiced, and ambitious. John was also a son of thunder, but of a milder sort. He was a truth seeker who was sensitive to those to whom he taught the truth.

Jesus transformed all three into effective fishers of men and foundation layers of His church, and all three suffered for their faithfulness. Tradition says that Andrew led the wife of a provincial governor to Christ and that when she refused to recant her faith the governor had Andrew crucified on an X-shaped cross—which subsequently became his symbol in church lore. He is said to have hung on the cross in agony for two days, preaching the gospel to those who passed by for as long as he was able.

According to tradition, when James had been sentenced to death and was about to be beheaded, the Roman soldier who guarded him was so impressed with his courage and constancy of spirit that he knelt at the apostle’s feet, begging forgiveness for the rough treatment he had given him and for his part in the execution. James is said to have lifted the man up, embraced and kissed him, and said, “Peace, my son. Peace to you and the pardon of your faults.” The soldier is said to have been so moved by James’s compassion that he publicly confessed Christ and was beheaded alongside the apostle.

Scripture reports that John was banished to the small and barren Isle of Patmos in the Aegean Sea, off the west coast of Asia Minor. He died about A.D. 98, during the reign of Emperor Trajan. Some sources suggest that those who knew him well said their reminder of John was the echo of a constant phrase that was on his lips: “My little children, love one another” (cf. 1 John 3:11, 14; 4:7, 11, 20-21).

These were three men with ordinary temperaments, ordinary strengths and weaknesses, and ordinary struggles. Yet in the power of Christ they were transformed into men that turned the world upside down. It was not what they were in themselves but what they were sovereignly and willingly made to become that rendered them such powerful instruments in the Master’s hands. The fishermen of Galilee became fishers of men on a vast scale, and in God’s power they gathered thousands of souls into the church and played a vital part in the salvation of millions more. Through the testimony of their lives and writings, those fishermen are still casting their nets into the sea of mankind and bringing multitudes into the kingdom.