Produced by Al Haines










Small Books on Great Subjects.--XI.




THE MAKING OF AN APOSTLE.


By R. J. Campbell.




LONDON: JAMES CLARKE & CO.,

13 & 14, Fleet Street.

1898.




_First Edition, October, 1898._




Contents.


The Making of an Apostle

Simon Meets with Jesus

The Call to Service

Simon's First Commission as a Preacher

Simon Acknowledges Jesus to be the Christ

Simon Peter Witnesses the Transfiguration

Peter Thinks his Sacrifice Complete

The Scene in the Upper Room

Gethsemane and After

The Power of the Resurrection

A New Commission

The Prince of the Apostles




THE MAKING OF AN APOSTLE.


The New Testament supplies us with little in the way of biography.
Even from the Gospels themselves we do not gather much concerning the
actual life of our Lord apart from His public ministry.  It has been
justly said that no person has ever influenced the history of the world
on such a scale as Jesus of Nazareth, yet it would be impossible to
write a chronological life of the Founder of Christianity.  What is
true of the Master is true of His followers.  We know very little about
the Apostles themselves; apart from their life-work of preaching
Christ, the details of their circumstances and fortunes are most
meagre.  Yet it is worth while from such materials as we have to
attempt to trace the influence of Jesus Christ upon those through whom
He founded His Church upon earth.  The choice of Apostles, for
instance, is sometimes regarded as having been made in a very
exceptional or semi-miraculous way, that Jesus summoned to His side
individuals upon whom His gaze fell for the first time, and that these
men forthwith became the instruments of His service.  But from
comparison of the Gospel narratives we discover that very interesting
life-stories might be written concerning the men who stood closest to
Jesus during His earthly ministry.  We find, as we might have expected,
that Jesus took in them an active personal interest, that their lives
were shaped under His influence as clay in the hands of the potter,
that He had a plan with each of them, and patiently worked at it, that
He applied to them a discriminating treatment and placed upon each his
own individual value.  Is not the same process going forward even now?
Does not the risen Lord still continue to issue His summonses to the
souls of men?  We feel that it were better to think so, and that He by
whom the very hairs of our head are all numbered still gives to His
servants in the world individual care, interest and attention,
fashioning heroes and saints out of the most unpromising materials, and
making apostles as in the days of old.

As an example of Jesus's ways of dealing with His servants the life of
the Apostle Peter is most suggestive.  In the first place, because he
was admitted to be the leader of the Apostles, or at any rate occupied
the position of greatest prominence amongst them, and also because we
are able by the comparative method to obtain from the Gospels
sufficient information for a history of his character, if not of his
career during the three most formative years of his life.




I.

Simon Meets with Jesus.

We are fortunate in possessing an account of the first occasion on
which Simon, the Galilean fisherman, met with Jesus of Nazareth.  We
are told (John i. 35-42) that immediately after the Baptism of Jesus,
and, therefore, before His public ministry began, John the Baptist made
a semi-public declaration that He was the long-expected Holy One of
Israel.  His words, as recorded in the Fourth Gospel, are: "I knew Him
not: but He that sent me to baptize with water, He said unto me, Upon
whomsover thou shalt see the Spirit descending, and abiding upon Him,
the same is He that baptizeth with the Holy Spirit.  And I have seen,
and have borne witness that this is the Son of God."  With the
exception of the mother of Jesus, John the Baptist appears to have been
the only person, who, at this particular time, was perfectly convinced,
without a word from Jesus Himself, that the long-expected Messiah had
appeared.  His declaration just quoted must have been made in the
presence of a certain number of His disciples, though with what effect
we are not told.

In a sense the ministry of Jesus begins with the declaration of John,
and a certain importance must therefore attach to the historicity of
the account of it.  If John recognised, as we are entitled to think he
did, that Jesus was the very person whose advent it had been his
mission to inaugurate, then Jesus's own work must in its initial stages
have been greatly simplified.  There could be no possibility of rivalry
between the teachers, nor was there any necessity for Jesus to exactly
imitate the procedure of John, and to commence unaccredited the work of
evangelising an unresponsive people.  John had prepared the minds of
his more spiritual and earnest followers for just such a revelation as
Jesus was about to give.  We may say without irreverence that our Lord
appropriated the results of the preaching of John.  The latter beheld
without jealousy or disquietude the departure of his best disciples to
the side of Jesus, and his own magnanimous statement in view of this
change has exalted him to a high pinnacle in the esteem of Christendom:
"He must increase, but I must decrease."  His work was not necessarily
done when Jesus arrived upon the scene.  The austere and noble-hearted
prophet was still able to continue doing his best to prepare the way,
to strengthen the hands of Jesus and to stir the hearts and awaken the
spiritual susceptibilities of his countrymen.  What a majestic
self-devotion!

It is not surprising that attempts should have been made at intervals
to discredit the Gospel account of the close connection between John
and Jesus in doctrine and discipleship.  M. Rénan,[1] for instance,
regards the Messianic proclamation as unhistorical.  He thinks the
story sufficiently refuted by the fact that John afterwards sent to
inquire whether Jesus really was the promised Messiah.  (Matt. xi. 2
_et seq._, Luke vii. 18 _et seq._) John's inquiry in this case was
certainly very peremptory.  "Art Thou the Christ, or look we for
another?"  But an easy explanation is to be found in the history of the
time that lies between the Messianic proclamation after the Baptism and
the date of his own arrest and imprisonment.  John's idea of
Messiahship did not exactly accord with that of Jesus.  He was
surprised to find that Jesus went on quietly preaching and healing,
saying little or nothing about His own personal claims, and assuming
neither state nor retinue.  This course of action puzzled the fiery
prophet who had foretold One mightier than himself, a Messiah who
should impress the imagination of the world, and render to every man
according to his deeds.  Jesus's procedure disappointed, and perhaps
irritated him, hence the abrupt inquiry, which seems to contradict his
assurance at the outset of our Lord's ministry.

Supposing, therefore, that John really did proclaim Jesus as the
Messiah, we should expect the announcement to kindle a very great
interest in those who understood the Baptist best.  From the first
chapter of the fourth Gospel we may infer that John had a school of
disciples to whom he gave esoteric teaching.  These few intimates were,
no doubt, eagerly anticipating the near advent of Him who should
restore the kingdom to Israel.  We do not know how many were included
in this group of enthusiasts, but it is more than probable that all, or
nearly all, of the names which formed the nucleus of Jesus's first band
of disciples were originally regarded as the followers of John the
Baptist.  These were precisely the kind of men to whom Jesus would be
drawn and upon whom He could rely for the sort of exalted
disinterestedness which, in some degree at least, He required from them
at the very outset of their acquaintance with Himself.

But to return to the narrative of that introduction: "On the following
day," the writer of the Fourth Gospel goes on to say: "John was
standing, and two of his disciples; and he looked upon Jesus as He
walked, and saith, Behold, the Lamb of God!  And the two disciples
heard him speak, and they followed Jesus."  Doubtless they were
influenced to do so because of the announcement of the day before.  The
disciples of John were all well aware of the fact that John was the
herald of a greater to come.  John's statement in regard to Jesus,
therefore, which statement he now repeated to themselves alone,
stimulated their eager interest, and leaving their master, they
followed the Nazarene.  The opportunity was an easy one; there was no
crowd, John was simply talking to his two followers; Jesus was alone.
The sequence of events was very simple; Jesus turned, saw them
following, and asked what they sought.  Their reply was the counter
question, "Rabbi, where abidest Thou?"  "Come," said He, "and ye shall
see."  "They came, therefore," continues the story, "and saw where He
abode, and they stayed with Him that day; it was about the tenth hour."
Here we have a complete little narrative, full of beautiful and natural
suggestion.  These two men evidently had a long conversation with
Jesus, perhaps far into the night, nor did they leave Him the next day,
save for a purpose to which we must presently refer.  A sacred intimacy
was begun in those hours of association with the new teacher.

"One of the two that heard Jesus speak and followed Him was Andrew,
Simon Peter's brother."  Who was the other?  Could it be the writer of
the Fourth Gospel himself, John the Divine?  If so we have here the
record of the beginning of a holy friendship, which so long as the
Church of God lasts will be spoken of.  John enjoyed the singular
privilege of being "the disciple whom Jesus loved," though he was not
the one chosen to lead the little band of adherents whom Jesus left
behind Him.  To observe this first mention of John the Divine is not a
digression, for the life of the Apostle John is linked in a very
special way with that of the rugged fisherman whom Jesus called to the
foremost place.

Why Andrew and his brother Simon were to be found in this particular
neighbourhood just now we do not know.  Probably they were in Jerusalem
for a special purpose, and before returning to Galilee went to listen
to John the Baptist, among whose disciples they counted themselves to
be.  Andrew was certainly such, though possibly his brother was not.
At any rate, Andrew's first thought before returning home was to bring
Simon to Jesus.  The narrative continues: "He findeth first his own
brother Simon, and saith unto Him, We have found the Messiah.  He
brought him unto Jesus."  And as in the case of Nathaniel, recorded in
the same chapter, Jesus seems to have anticipated an introduction.  The
Gospel says, "He looked upon him, and said, Thou art Simon, the son of
John, thou shalt be called _Rock_."  No doubt Andrew had told Jesus the
name of his brother, and also that he was going to fetch him; possibly,
likewise, he had referred to his impulsive, wayward character, his
instability and irresolution.  All the more surprising, therefore, must
have been the reception which Jesus gave to the newcomer: "Thou art
Simon (whom I have been expecting).  Thou shalt be called _a rock_."
Jesus looked very far ahead when He welcomed poor, impetuous Simon with
such a prophecy.  A _rock_ was the very last thing in the world which
in character he would ever be likely to resemble.  The new Teacher
evidently saw possibilities in him which every one, including himself,
had ignored before.

This, then, is Simon's first meeting with Jesus, the commencement of a
training which was to yield him a destiny that the great ones of the
earth might well envy.  To him it was given to see a day which many
prophets and righteous men had desired to see and had not seen.  In
this apparently commonplace man who lived, possibly, a coarse and
sinful life, Jesus had discovered, though he did not say so, save in a
general prophecy, the prince of the Apostles, the leader of the Church
that was to be.



[1] "Life of Jesus," p. 156.




II.

The Call to Service.

We may assume that Peter's acquaintance with our Lord continued for
some time ere he was called to actual service.  The Synoptists all
refer to this call, but with certain differences in detail.  Matthew's
first mention of Simon (iv. 18) occurs in connection with his account
of the commencement of the preaching ministry of Jesus.  He tells us
that after the temptation our Lord went to live in Capernaum.  We know
little or nothing of His movements save that He began to preach, and
that the substance of His exhortation was, "Repent, for the Kingdom of
Heaven is at hand!"  A great deal, however, is suggested here.
Capernaum was Simon's home, and by piecing the narrative in John i.
with that in Matthew iv. we are justified in thinking that after making
acquaintance with Andrew and Simon in Bethabara beyond Jordan, Jesus
went with them to Galilee and continued His association with them on
terms of intimacy, _vide_ John i. 43, John ii. _et seq._ John ii. 12.
Jesus's sojourn in Capernaum was not intended to be permanent, as we
see in John ii. 12.  It is quite possible it was only undertaken for
the sake of drawing closer the relations between Himself and the two
brothers whose acquaintance He had made through the medium of the
Baptist.  In Matt. iv. 18 we are informed that "walking by the sea of
Galilee He saw two brethren, Simon and Andrew his brother, casting a
net into the sea, for they were fishers.  And He saith unto them, Come
ye after Me, and I will make you fishers of men.  And they straightway
left the nets and followed Him."

But for the considerations presented above we might imagine that this
was the first time Jesus had ever seen Peter.  Mark and Luke are more
explicit, Luke especially.  In Mark i. 16, that is very early in this
particular Gospel, we read that after John was delivered up Jesus came
into Galilee.  "And passing along by the Sea of Galilee, He saw Simon
and Andrew the brother of Simon, casting a net into the sea, for they
were fishers.  And Jesus said unto them, Come ye after Me, and I will
make you _to become_ fishers of men."  When we remember that Mark's
Gospel is really Peter's own Gospel, written in all probability under
his guidance, we are prepared for the early introduction of the call of
the first Apostle.  A previous acquaintance is clearly presumed here.
Mark states with his usual simple directness and vividness, "He saw
Simon."  The presumption is that Simon was already well known to Jesus,
and the fact that the two brothers left their nets and followed Him is
not so wonderful if we consider that their friendship with Jesus was
already well established, and their belief in His authority confirmed
by their increasing knowledge of Himself.

It is to Luke, however, that we must turn for a circumstantial account
of the crisis so briefly referred to by Matthew and Mark.  Under the
guidance of Luke our conjectures as to the intercourse between Jesus
and Simon become certainty.  In Luke iv. 38 we are told that after
preaching in the synagogue of Capernaum He entered into the house of
Simon.  He healed Simon's wife's mother, who was suffering from fever.
This appears to have been one miracle among many of a similar kind that
day; possibly the news of it went forth, "And," Luke continues, "when
the sun was setting all they that had any sick with divers diseases
brought them unto Him."  Evidently Jesus is here a familiar guest in
the house of Simon and makes it His head-quarters.

In the next chapter (Luke v. 1-11) we have Luke's account of the call
to service and the circumstances which led up to it.  Jesus, as an
honoured guest, seems to have made use, not only of Simon's home, but
of his fishing-boat.  This fishing-boat on occasions supplied him with
a pulpit from which He was able to address the crowds that lined the
seashore.  On one such occasion, when He had finished speaking, He
asked His host to put out into the deep.  Simon did so, no doubt
thinking that the new Teacher required to escape and rest after His
long exertions.  But Jesus had another motive than this.  Simon had
been obliged to wait His pleasure while He was preaching; he had been
out the whole of the previous night plying his calling, and was,
doubtless, weary and exhausted.  Jesus knew all this and intended to
help him.  By His direction Simon let down his net for a draught,
explaining, however, while he did so, that he expected no result in the
day-time since he had taken nothing through the hours of darkness.  He
lowered the nets simply to please Jesus, to whom he had become, by this
time, much attached.  The result was the miraculous draught of fishes.

The effect upon Simon of this beneficent exhibition of the super-human
power of Jesus was overwhelming.  His impulsive character showed itself
at once.  He threw himself down at the feet of his Master with the
ill-considered but earnest petition born of the feeling of the moment,
"Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord!"

What was the reason of this strange outburst?  The miraculous draught
of fishes was not of itself sufficient to account for it; it was the
occasion but not the cause of Peter's action.  A better way of
explaining it would be to try to form a sympathetic estimate of the
working of this rude fisherman's mind under the influence of his short
acquaintance with Jesus of Nazareth.  Like others of his class, Simon
had very likely been, until the day when Andrew introduced him to
Jesus, ill-disciplined and coarse.  He may have thought very little
about high and holy things, and yet, as often happens in a rude but
generous nature, he felt an instinctive respect for goodness whenever
he saw it embodied in another.  He was attracted to Jesus by Andrew's
assertion that He was the Messiah.  In the increasing intimacy of
subsequent intercourse he must have come to feel that Jesus was the
best man he had ever met.  Jesus came as a benediction to Simon's home.
His very presence must have stirred the better feelings latent in the
boisterous fisherman's heart.  Simon came to love Jesus, and listened
no doubt with a simple, awe-struck interest to the words He was
accustomed to address to the crowds from the vantage-ground of Simon's
boat.  Jesus discovered him to himself: he saw how poor and mean and
unsatisfactory his own life and ideals were when compared with the
character of this august stranger.

To these considerations Jesus added another.  Out of pure
thoughtfulness and kindness for Simon He had asked him to put out to
sea and let down his nets, and poor Simon, totally unprepared for the
result, now saw that in his friend and guest were combined at once
marvellous goodness and marvellous power.  Simon's first feeling was
that he wanted to get away from Him, that he was totally unfit to be in
the presence of such a Being, and, like the centurion afterwards, was
not worthy that He should come under his roof.  The cry, "Depart from
me!" meant, doubtless, "Leave my home.  Do not stay with me any more.
I am unfit for such a privilege, unworthy of such companionship.
Select another and a better associate, for I am a sinful man!"

We are beholden to Luke for this circumstantial account of an important
event in the life of an interesting man.  Some persons think that Luke
has mixed up this story with the similar one recorded in John xxi.
There is no need to think so, the scene ends very naturally.  Matthew
and Mark omit to say how it was that Jesus came to extend the call to
Simon and Andrew, James and John.  According to their brief statement
Jesus saw them casting a net into the sea; according to Luke it was He
who told them to cast that net.  Simon's confession and request
supplied Him with a further opportunity: "Fear not, He said, from
henceforth thou shalt catch men.  And when they had brought their boats
to land they left all and followed Him."

We see from this beautiful sequence of dealings that Jesus bestowed
much tender thought and care upon the training of the men who were to
serve Him in the work of evangelising the world.  His prophecy in
respect to Simon at their first meeting He set Himself to fulfil.
Peter was not then ready to be called, nor did Jesus call him; without
explaining His meaning He uttered a prophecy in regard to Simon's
future character which no one but Himself could understand.  He
welcomed Simon's avowal of unworthiness as the first condition toward
the attainment of that character.  Simon was fit to be used just in
proportion as he realised his own unfitness.  "I am a sinful man," was
the utterance which made it possible for him to arise and become a
saviour.




III.

Simon's First Commission as a Preacher.

Before long it became necessary for our Lord to make a selection from
amongst the number of His disciples of those who were to represent Him
and be clothed with His authority, after His visible presence was
withdrawn from the infant Church.  In Matthew x., Mark iii., and Luke
vi., we have the Gospel accounts of the appointment of Apostles.  The
choice was very solemnly entered upon, the Master "continued all night
in prayer to God, and when it was day He called His disciples: and He
chose from them twelve, whom also He named Apostles."  In this little
band Simon was permitted a special prominence.  In the lists severally
given by the Synoptists, Simon's name is always at the head.  Matthew
especially opens with the distinctive words, "But first, Simon who is
called Peter."  Simon's precedence was evidently the wish of Jesus
Himself.  The twelve, moreover, accepted it without demur; Simon is
almost invariably their spokesman.  If ever Jesus had occasion to ask a
question of all Simon usually made reply in the name of the others.
The only case in which his leadership was disputed was during the
rivalry with the sons of Zebedee.  To this, however, we must make
reference presently.

The newly-appointed apostles were now sent forth on a preaching
mission; their business was to herald the advent of Jesus Himself in
the districts into which He was about to come.  Their theme was to be,
"The Kingdom of Heaven is at hand."  Certain miraculous powers were
bestowed upon them; they were to heal the sick, cleanse the lepers,
raise the dead, cast out demons.  They were to travel without gold or
silver; they were not to take two coats or shoes or a staff, but were
to trust to the hospitality of those to whom they preached.  They were
to regard themselves as sheep sent forth in the midst of wolves; they
were to be wise as serpents and harmless as doves.  They were to expect
persecution; and here their Master foreshadowed what was to take place
long afterwards, namely, that they were to expect to be brought before
governors and kings for His sake and for a testimony to the heathen
world.  They were not to be over-anxious as to the form of their
message; "for," said Jesus, "it is not ye that speak, but the spirit of
your Father that speaketh in you."  They were not to fear opposition,
they were bidden to have a high courage and a simple faith.  They were
to yield themselves in the most thorough obedience and submission to
the Leader in whose service they were now enrolled.  Jesus expected to
be the supreme interest in their lives.  He asked for a devotion which
should shrink from no sacrifice, reaching the climax of His exhortation
in the statement that "He that doth not take his cross and follow after
Me is not worthy of Me.  He that findeth his life shall lose it, and he
that loseth his life for My sake shall find it."

This preaching journey was Simon's first trial in the work of the
ministry.  Jesus had not only called him, He had given him work to do.
It was but a simple duty, yet the faithful discharge of this
preliminary obligation was by-and-by to lead to greater things.  There
is no doubt that it was Jesus's intention to test in this way the men
whom He had summoned to His side.  This preaching tour was the humble
beginning of the heroic days of the early Church.




IV.

Simon Acknowledges Jesus to be the Christ.

So far our Lord seems to have said little or nothing to His disciples
in regard to His own personality.  He must have had certain reasons for
this course, the principal one being, no doubt, that He shrank from
arousing mistaken expectations in the minds of His followers.  They
looked for a hero Messiah, a great liberator, a secular prince.  Jesus
knew from experience how extremely difficult it is to change any man's
point of view, or to dislodge a prepossession from his mind, hence He
preferred to allow His character to produce its own impression, and
from this new standing ground to raise men's ideas of the functions of
Messiah.  His ministry would have been seriously maimed by any
premature insistence upon His supernatural claims, indeed, the danger
was on certain occasions only narrowly averted.  At one time the people
would have taken Him by force to make Him a king, at another time they
welcomed Him to Jerusalem with hosannas.  He was often addressed as the
Son of David, a description applicable only to the Christ, as the ready
reply of the Pharisees to His own question on a critical occasion
clearly shows.  "What think ye of Christ?  Whose son is He?"  They
answered without hesitation, "The Son of David."  Jesus had no wish to
conceal His pretensions, but on the other hand He was careful not to
arouse misconception as to His real character by declaring them.  This
reticence puzzled the religious leaders a good deal, as is evident from
their somewhat peremptory demand, "How long dost Thou make us to doubt?
If Thou art the Christ, tell us plainly."

With the disciples themselves Jesus pursued the same course, for they
were liable to the same danger, the danger of misapprehending the real
nature of Messiahship.  How long He refrained from speaking plainly on
the subject we cannot determine; but some time after the return of the
Apostles from the preaching mission He thought the time had come to
elicit from them a theory of His Person.  One day, on His way through
the villages of Cæsarea Philippi, He suddenly put to His followers the
question, "Who do men say that I am?" and they answered, "Some say John
the Baptist, some Elijah, and others one of the prophets."  Jesus
continued His interrogation by the further inquiry: "But whom say _ye_
that I am?"  Matthew, Mark and Luke[1] are all agreed that Peter
furnished the desired response, "Thou art the Christ, the Son of the
living God."  Matthew's account is the most circumstantial and conveys
most distinctly the impression that Jesus was pleased with the answer.
His words of commendation to Simon on this occasion are a remarkable
extension of the prophecy contained in His first greeting to him as set
forth in John i. 42.  Matthew's version is "Blessed art thou Simon
Bar-Jona, for flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but My
Father which is in heaven.  And I also say unto thee that thou art
Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of
Hades shall not prevail against it.  I will give unto thee the keys of
the kingdom of heaven, and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be
bound in heaven; and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be
loosed in heaven."

From this point Simon the fisherman becomes merged in Peter the
Apostle.  His training had now reached a point when his spiritual
perceptions were sharpened and his faith in Jesus had led to the
ejaculation which is the fundamental article of the creed of
Christendom.  Jesus's reference to Simon on this occasion has advanced
somewhat in fulness since the day of their first meeting.  Then He had
stated, "Thou _shall be called_ a rock," now He avers, "Blessed art
thou.  Thou hast been taught of God; thou _art_ a rock, and on this
rock will I build My Church."  Here was a high distinction for the
first apostle; a trust was committed to him, the guardianship of the
newly-formed Church, and how much was involved in that he himself at
this particular moment could not by any means foresee.  Much discipline
is yet needed ere he becomes fit to undertake the grand responsibility.
Probably he does not shrink from the task, for he knows not its
magnitude, neither is he modest in regard to his own qualifications for
it, as will presently appear.  He is to be taught by failure and
humiliation that to follow Jesus is a way of the cross, that power for
the duty is resident, not in Peter the Apostle but in Christ who gave
the commission and in the Father who revealed to him the truth about
the Son of God.

The period upon the consideration of which we have now entered was a
time of spiritual ups and downs for the Apostle Peter.  He seems to
have been too easily elated, though as easily abased.  He now began to
feel his importance, and was doubtless somewhat exalted in spirit by
our Lord's emphatic commendation of him in the presence of the Twelve.
He had declared Jesus to be the Christ, but a Christ who learned
obedience through sufferings was as yet unthinkable to him.  This crude
perception is the explanation of the mistake into which he immediately
fell.  No sooner had Jesus elicited the declaration that He Himself was
the Christ than, after charging the disciples to say nothing to any man
in regard to it, He began to teach them the true nature of Messiahship.
In their several accounts of what follows the Synoptists differ a
little.  Matthew (xvii. 21) implies that some time may have elapsed ere
Jesus began to systematically instruct His disciples concerning His
vocation and death.  Luke (ix. 22) states that He continued at once in
the same interview to prepare them for His coming humiliation, shame,
and death.  Luke--who, as Dr. Bruce remarks always spares the
Twelve--says nothing about any further interference of Peter in the
conversation.

It is to Mark that we must turn this time for the clearest account of
what took place.  Peter, at any rate, never spares himself in his
narrations.  In chapter viii. 31, Mark tells us that after Peter's
avowal, "Thou art the Christ," Jesus began to teach them that "The Son
of Man must suffer many things, and be rejected by the elders and the
chief priests and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise
again."  It is noteworthy that in this Gospel Peter says not a word
about the extraordinary blessing and promise bestowed upon himself in
consequence of his acknowledgment of the Messiahship of Jesus.  He
does, however, faithfully and humbly tell us of the severe rebuff he
received for his presumption.  He was very sorry to hear Jesus predict
His own sufferings and death.  Such a fate did not at all accord with
Peter's idea of the destiny of the Christ.  He could not understand it,
and we may suppose he loved Jesus too much to be willing that He should
suffer anything at all, either of humiliation, rejection or failure.
He was not prepared, either, to believe that his own new primacy over
the Apostles was to result in nothing better than tragedy and defeat.
He clung, as we shall observe, for a long time to the notion of worldly
honour and advancement.  Such rewards he conceived to be in the natural
order of things; they were the result of his preconception of the
functions of the Christ of God.

Perhaps, too, Peter felt somewhat elated and self-important on account
of the words which Jesus had just applied to him, and pluming himself
upon his exceptional privilege he undertook the duty of reproving his
Master.  For, Mark tells us, "Peter took Him and began to rebuke Him."
A severe reprimand followed.  "Jesus turned about, and, seeing His
disciples, rebuked Peter, and saith, Get thee behind Me, Satan, for
thou mindest not the things of God but the things of men."  Matthew
adds that Jesus also said, "Thou art a stumbling-block unto Me."  Luke
kindly omits all reference to the painful moment.  Thus, in the course
of a few moments, Peter achieved a great spiritual success and was
guilty of an unspiritual blunder--he was exalted and humiliated,
commended and reproved.  In after days he remembered with peculiar
distinctness his lack of the true spirit at this hour, and by Mark's
agency, therefore, faithfully reproduced for the Church of Christ the
record of his well-deserved abasement.  All three Synoptists conclude
their account of this scene by repeating the great saying of Jesus: "If
any man would come after Me let him deny himself and take up his cross
and follow Me.  For whosoever would save his life shall lose it, and
whosoever shall lose his life for My sake and the Gospel's shall save
it.  For what doth it profit a man to gain the whole world and forfeit
his life?  For what should a man give in exchange for his life?"  Most
of us find this lesson as difficult to learn as apparently Peter did.

The singular eminence of the religion of Jesus depends upon a right
apprehension of the principle just illustrated.  The Christian life is
and must be a _Via Crucis_, yet at the same time is the way that
leadeth unto life.  The principle of dying to live as enunciated by
Christ differs from that of even the greatest of His predecessors in
the recognition that true gladness is conditioned by self-crucifixion.
Human nature has been slow to learn the lesson.  The great renunciation
of Gautama Buddha, for example, consisted in the repression of
individuality and the destruction of the natural desires.  The effect
of his system was negative; the higher life was to be one of
self-suppression, a very different thing, surely, from
self-crucifixion.  Gautama placed the ideal in ceasing to live; Christ,
on the other hand, taught His followers to live more deeply, truly and
grandly than before.  To follow Jesus, now as always, means to feel
more and not less, to add to the sum of our interests, and not to take
from them, to raise the standard of our hopes, not to depress it.  Like
Gautama, He calls for a renunciation, but that renunciation is the
gateway into larger life.  The solemn gladness of Christian experience
finds its parallel in no other teaching that the world has ever
received.  How can we be surprised that ascetics and hedonists within
the bosom of the Christian Church itself have so frequently and
lamentably mistaken the spirit of their Master's teaching?  The ideal
of Thomas à Kempis, in spite of its beauty, is no more that of Jesus
than was the ideal of Gautama.  How slowly men come to learn that peace
and tribulation, joy and suffering, gladness and the Cross, are not
incompatible, but the very conditions of each other!

Before we visit Peter with our censures because of his unmistakable
reluctance to accept Christ's vision of the cross let us give heed to
ourselves.  The same mistakes may take very different form.  With many
of us the ideal of human felicity which we call Christian is
essentially Pagan.  Our very thanksgivings show it.  We are grateful to
God for troubles averted, happiness preserved, fortune assured; we
tacitly assume that the opposite of these things would have been an
evil.  We praise the goodness of God in shielding us from the untoward
and calamitous, and though it may seem hardly worth while to say it,
some naturally amiable characters with a bias toward holy things have
lost their faith and lost their sweetness at one and the same time with
the arrival of sorrow.  Far be it from me to insist that men should
cease to thank God for the sweetness and the joy of life, but if we lay
the stress here and refuse to take the cross when it is presented to us
we have shut ourselves off from the attainment of that highest good,
which is to know the fellowship of the sufferings of Christ.  "Strait
is the gate and narrow is the way that leadeth unto life, and few there
be that find it."  If the clear truth of the necessary connection
between the assumption of the cross and the attainment of true
blessedness were to be grasped by those who seek to follow Christ,
there would be fewer of the sad failures so frequently apparent amongst
those who are disappointed with the result of their faith in God.


  I do believe, what you call trust
  Was self-delusion at the best: for, see!
  So long as God would kindly pioneer
  A path for you, and screen you from the world,
  Procure you full exemption from man's lot,
  Man's common hopes and fears, on the mere pretext
  Of your engagement in His service--yield you
  A limitless licence, make you God, in fact,
  And turn your slave--you were content to say
  Most courtly praises!  What is it, at last,
  But selfishness without example?  None
  Could trace God's will so plain as you, while yours
  Remained implied in it; but now you fail,
  And we, who prate about that Will, are fools!
  In short, God's service is established here
  As He determines fit, and not your way,
  And this you cannot brook.[2]


Peter's remonstrance here is but an example of a very common human
feeling in regard to the things of Christ.  It exhibited a certain
immaturity of character and crudeness of perception such as, in spite
of his genuine affection for his Master, disqualified him at this stage
from understanding Him.



[1] Matt. xvi. 16, Mark viii. 29, Luke ix. 20.

[2] Browning, "Paracelsus."




V.

Simon Peter Witnesses the Transfiguration.

At the close of the conversation referred to above our Lord stated,
"There be some here of them that stand by which shall in no wise taste
of death till they see the kingdom of God come with power."  About a
week after this promise--Mark says "six days" and Luke "about eight
days"--"Jesus took with Him Peter and James and John, and went with
them to a high mountain apart by themselves, and was transfigured
before them."  Matthew (chapter xvii.) says that "His face did shine as
the sun and his garments became white as the light."  Luke beautifully
states that "as he was _praying_ the fashion of His countenance was
altered and His raiment became white and dazzling.  And behold there
talked with Him two men, which were Moses and Elijah, who appeared in
glory, and spake of His decease which He was about to accomplish at
Jerusalem."  The three Apostles were in some danger of missing the
vision, for, as happened afterwards in the hour of His agony, they
slept, or at least were "heavy with sleep."  However, as Luke
continues, "when they were fully awake they saw His glory, and the two
men who stood with Him."  The three Galileans were awed by the sight,
and Peter in his perturbation broke out with an offer to build three
tabernacles.  Mark says, "He wist not what to answer, for they became
sore afraid."  Matthew writes that, "While He was yet speaking, behold,
a bright cloud overshadowed them; and behold, a voice out of the cloud,
saying, This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased; hear ye Him.
And when the disciples heard it, they fell on their face, and were sore
afraid.  And Jesus came and touched them, and said, Arise, and be not
afraid.  And lifting up their eyes, they saw no one, save Jesus only."
In the Second Epistle of Peter (i. 16-18), we have a further account,
purporting, indeed, to be the direct statement of Peter himself, in
regard to this extraordinary vision.  He says, "For we did not follow
cunningly devised fables, when we made known unto you the power and
coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we were eyewitnesses of His
majesty.  For He received from God the Father honour and glory, when
there came such a voice to Him from the excellent glory, This is my
beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased: and this voice we ourselves
heard come out of heaven, when we were with Him in the holy mount."

As they came down from the mountain Jesus "charged them to tell no man
until that He should be risen from the dead."  And according to Mark,
"they kept the saying, questioning among themselves what the rising
again from the dead should mean."  It is evident that even at this
point Peter had found himself unable to realise that his Master was
really to be crucified and slain.

We cannot but regret that the immediate effect of this glorious vision
upon Peter and James and John seems to have been a tendency to
arrogance and ambition.  We have now hints about a division in the
Apostolic circle between the adherents of Peter and those of James and
John.  Peter and the sons of Zebedee now become rivals for supremacy;
they had together been witnesses of the Transfiguration--a supposed
foretaste of the earthly glory of their Master which was presently to
appear.  Mark is our chief authority for this supposition, and we may
trust that in his account we have Peter's recollection of the true
sequence of scenes and incidents.  After his record of Jesus's prophecy
in regard to His own death he continues, "And they came to Capernaum.
And when he was in the house He asked them, What were ye reasoning in
the way?  But they held their peace: for they had disputed one with
another in the way, who was the greatest.  And He sat down and called
the twelve; and He saith unto them, If any man would be first, he shall
be last of all and servant of all.  And he took a little child, and set
him in the midst of them: and taking him in His arms, He said unto
them, Whosoever shall receive one of such little children in My name,
receiveth Me; and whosoever receiveth Me receiveth not Me, but Him that
sent Me."  Luke in fewer words confirms this story; Matthew makes a
very brief reference to it, saying nothing of the dispute.

Mark and Luke add a reference to another incident which gives us a
sidelight upon the then state of mind of him who came to be the
"beloved disciple."  "John said unto Him, Master, we saw one casting
out devils in Thy name, and we forbade him, because he followeth not
with us.  But Jesus said unto him, Forbid him not, for he that is not
against you is for you." (Mark ix. 38-40, Luke ix. 49-50.)  Luke
subjoins a further statement about the two sons of Zebedee which, in
company with the one just mentioned, leads us to imply that the three
most favoured Apostles were at this time in a state of mind in which
arrogance, ambition and intolerance kept company.  Jesus and His
followers had been refused hospitality in a Samaritan village, and
James and John asked to be allowed to emulate Elijah and call down fire
from heaven to consume them.  Their Master at once rebuked them, adding
regretfully (for He must have seen very plainly how matters were going
in His circle), "Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of.  For the
Son of Man came not to destroy men's lives, but to save them."  Mark
(x. 35-45) relates another incident of a similar kind in which James
and John made a bid for precedence, requesting on the strength of their
intimacy with Him that it might be given them to sit, the one on His
right hand, and the other on His left, in His Kingdom.  Jesus rightly
replied, "Ye know not what ye ask."  Matthew (xx. 20) says that the
mother of the sons of Zebedee preferred their request, and that the ten
"were moved with indignation concerning the two brethren."  Jesus was
very patient with them.  Looking beyond their foolish desire He
prophesied that they should indeed drink of His cup and be baptized
with His baptism, and closed with a general exhortation to the twelve
to lay aside ambition, saying, "Whosoever would be great among you
shall be your minister: and whosoever would be first among you shall be
servant of all.  For verily the Son of Man came not to be ministered
unto, but to minister, and to give His life a ransom for many."  (Mark
x. 43-45.)

Poor human nature!  The only evident effect so far of the high
privilege accorded to the three foremost apostles has been to beget
rivalry and jealousy between them.  The Sons of Thunder display an
intolerance and self-seeking which excite the anger of the others;
Peter, we may be sure, included, since Peter was the person whose
primacy was threatened.  Peter had not yet reached the point of willing
self-abnegation--far from it, as we shall presently see.  Our Lord's
object-lesson by means of a little child has, as yet, no result in the
character of the "Prince of the Apostles."  He was not prepared to
exhibit the spirit of a little child, or to conform his own disposition
to the heart of a little child.  He was, as yet, unable to conceive how
the first could be last, or how the master of all could be servant of
all.  The favour shown to him by his Divine Master has hitherto served
but to raise him in his own estimation.  From this point we shall see
that only through the experiences of humiliation and failure was Peter
able to attain to the true idea of Christian service.

The point at which we have now arrived is one of the most instructive
in the New Testament record of our Lord's view of true manhood.  It is
frequently supposed that personal ambition is an essential to the
progress of society.  Great thinkers, before and after Christ, have
agreed in recognising that this particular passion has been an
instrument in the advancement of society, and hence has served a useful
purpose.  Before Christ the only alternative to this view seems to have
been that of the duty of quiescence, and long after Christ the same
theory has been very commonly held.  As examples of the former view the
reader has only to call to mind the sentiment of Homer's immortal epic,
or the odes of Pindar, in order to see that ambition was regarded as
the motor quality of heroism.  Where this selfish passion was regarded
as an evil and renounced in favour of a supposedly higher theory of
life, the result nearly always took the form of asceticism or
withdrawal from active service in the world.  No _via media_ was
thought of as possible between thorough-going ambition and the

  ... fugitive and cloistered virtue,

which has exhibited to the world so different an ideal.  In dreamy,
mystical, Oriental cults we see this latter tendency carried to its
extreme.  Almost invariably the renunciation of ambition as an
incentive to human action has meant the disuse of many noble human
powers and gifts.  So much has this been the case that even in our own
day, with the Christian ideal in our possession, ambition has been
regarded as an indispensable ingredient in most strenuous human efforts
put forth on behalf of humanity.  Edmund Burke classifies sympathy,
imitation and ambition together as motors in the progress of the
community.[1]  Professor Lecky, in his great work, "The History of
European Morals," seems to regard it as indispensable to a vigorous
national life.  This great thinker, accustomed to habits of exact
observation, is, no doubt, right in the assumption that this position
receives abundant confirmation in the field of history; but have we so
"learned Christ"?

The fact is that in giving to the world a higher ethical ideal in
regard to the sanction of service Jesus must have well understood the
difficulties that lay before Him.  Perhaps this is why He was so
patient with the selfish hopes of His followers in regard to their
personal preferment.  He must have known that the whole trend of
history was against the new teaching.  It is easy for us now to say
that the intrusion of self-interest in any good work vitiates its value
to a great extent; but must we not reflect that we owe this conception
to Christ?  Society is now saturated with the ethical teaching of the
Man of Nazareth.  We are confronted with the observation that in its
moral tendencies Society is moving toward an ideal which was exhibited
to the world nearly nineteen hundred years ago.  We are not reaching
forward to an indeterminate something in the region of morals, we are
moving toward a standard exhibited in a life.  Further, it is easy for
us, reading the New Testament, to hastily judge and condemn the
obtuseness and unspirituality of the little band that surrounded Jesus.
The arrogance of Peter and the selfish intrigues of the sons of Zebedee
move us to impatience.  How much worthier and kinder the attitude of
our Divine Master!  He knew that a moral revolution could not be
effected in an hour.  His object was to train the men who should
transform the world.  If He could possibly influence the twelve men
whom His Father had given Him so that they could know what they ought
to feel and do, He could afford to be content.  The gates of Hades
should not prevail against the advancing Gospel.

What, then, was His ideal?  It was nothing less than complete
renunciation of all self-interest without any diminution of energy and
effort in service for the good of the world.  Jesus repudiated ambition
in any form as the dynamic of human aspiration and endeavour.  He
required from His disciples the completest self-renunciation, combined
with enthusiastic self-devotion to the duty of making the world better.
To give up self was not to give up service, it was simply the
substitution of a higher motive for a lower.  This explains in a
measure why Christianity came to replace the Stoic and Epicurean
philosophies.  Stoicism is exhibited at its best, perhaps, in the nobly
active life of the greatest of the Antonines.  Its ideal was rigid
devotion to duty, that of Christ was service inspired by love.
Ambition is a mode of self service, yet if we may so expand the meaning
as to make it include the Christian principle we might say that in the
place of ambition for the sake of self Christianity substitutes
ambition for the sake of God.  In each case it is love for a person
that supplies the motive for the highest human endeavours.  But how
incomparably grander and stronger is the Christian principle than that
which it replaced!  All useful or desirable things that men are
accustomed to do for themselves Christianity requires them to do for
God.  When the apostles finally came to understand this new commandment
their Gospel became a resistless force, and whenever since their day
the Church has succeeded in doing the same Christianity has arisen in
newness of life.



[1] Essay on the Sublime and Beautiful.  Sect. xii.




VI.

Peter Thinks His Sacrifice Complete.

His Consequent Expectations.

In the three synoptical Gospels we have an account of a remarkable
conversation between Peter and his Lord in regard to the reward
promised to those who took service in the Kingdom of God.  The occasion
was one of special interest.  A rich young ruler came to Jesus to ask
the momentous question, "What shall I do to inherit eternal life?"  The
disciples appear to have been much impressed by the incident--Peter,
perhaps, most of all, for in Mark's Gospel we have the best account of
the matter.  Jesus, he says, was attracted by the simplicity, humility
and earnestness of one who certainly ran the risk of incurring odium by
stooping to ask advice of the new Teacher.  Peter has preserved for us
in one vivid sentence something of the very aspect of the Master in His
final reply, "_Jesus, looking upon him, loved him, and said unto him,
'One thing thou lackest; go, sell whatsoever thou hast and give to the
poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven, and come, follow me._'"
This test was too much for the seeker; he turned and "went away
sorrowful, for he was one that had great possessions."  In the
discourse that followed, the Master, doubtless in a vein of mingled
sadness and solemnity, observed, "How hardly shall they that have
riches enter into the Kingdom of God!"  Peter accepting his Master's
words in their most literal sense, in the light of the foregoing
incident, spoke out in his impulsive way, "Lord, we have left all and
followed Thee.  What, then, shall we have?"

Two things in regard to this question have a certain significance for
us.  The first, Peter's inadequate sense of the extent of the
renunciation he had made, and secondly, our Lord's patient and wise
reply.  Peter evidently considered his renunciation and that of his
companions to have been complete.  They had abandoned their fishing
nets, and to a certain extent their homes.  They had done so on the
understanding that He who summoned them was the promised Messiah and
future King of Israel, and therefore would be able in the future to
compensate all who associated themselves with Him to their own loss.
We must not suppose that this was the leading motive which attracted
Simon and the sons of Zebedee to the new Prophet, but it is very clear
that after they had been associated with Jesus for some time ambitious
hopes for place and power began to take possession of their hearts.  Of
this we have already considered an example.  Up to the present they had
misapprehended the deepest principle of the Master's teaching; they
felt that abandonment of their accustomed pursuits and possessions
merited a present and material reward not to be long delayed.  Hence
Peter's question--a question which no doubt related to the expectations
of his companions also.  The idea of a renunciation of _themselves_, a
spiritual renunciation, had not yet become clear to them.  From our
point of view it is surprising that they should so long have
misunderstood.

Had He to whom the inquiry was addressed been as most of us are, Peter
would have received another sharp rebuke.  How different is Jesus's
answer on this occasion from the stern, "Get thee behind me, Satan!" of
a little while before!  The difference is due to the fact that, in this
case, Peter spoke of his own renunciation, while in the former case he
had ventured to interfere with his Master's.  Jesus therefore replied
with a patience and kindness that were possible only to one who saw far
beyond the moment.  "There is no man," said He, "that hath left house
or brethren or sisters or mother or father or children or lands for My
sake, and for the Gospel's sake, but he shall receive a hundredfold now
in this time, houses and brethren and sisters and mothers and children
and lands with persecutions; and in the world to come eternal life.
But many that are first shall be last, and the last first."  Some have
objected to the tenor of this reply, arguing that it held out false
hopes to those who heard it, and that to promise such a reward was in
any case to lower somewhat the ideal of service.  When, however, we
look forward to the noble fulfilment of the promise we cannot but think
the spirit of it altogether worthy of Jesus.  It is a continuance of
the superhuman insight which had led Him to assert on His first meeting
with Simon, "Thou shalt be called _Rock_."  If Mark's Gospel is really
Peter's memoirs it is probable that the story of this promise was
committed to writing long after Peter had begun to recognise its
meaning.  He who afterwards at the Beautiful Gate of the Temple
addressed the cripple who asked for money was a nobler Peter than the
one who now sought a similar gift for himself.  "Silver and gold have I
none, but such as I have give I unto thee.  In the name of Jesus Christ
of Nazareth, rise up and walk."  "_Such as I have!_"  Who would not
desire to share in a possession so rich?  Silver and gold, social and
political prominence, had faded into nothingness in the presence of the
privilege of speaking "in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth."


  A mortal, sin's familiar friend, doth here
  Avow that he will give all earth's reward,
  But to believe and humbly teach the faith,
  In suffering and poverty and shame,
  Only believing he is not unloved.[1]



[1] R. Browning, Pauline.




VII.

The Scene in the Upper Room.

As our Lord's earthly ministry draws to a close the spiritual history
of the first Apostles reaches a crisis.  The scene in the Upper Room
has for us a special interest in this connection.  It is recorded in
all the four Gospels in such a manner as to establish its importance
and historicity.  As usual Peter's own account is the most vivid, but
Luke supplies us with a sentence from which we learn more of the state
of affairs than is given by the other three.  This is exceptional, for
Luke, as a rule, idealises the Apostles.  He tells us that "there arose
also a contention among them which of them is accounted to be
greatest."  We see then that even into the Upper Room and to the last
Supper had penetrated the jealousies, rivalries and ambitions of these
few men who were afterwards to become heroes of the Cross.  We only
associate the upper room with thoughts of peace and sacredness, but
here is another side of the matter.  It may well be that the little
meeting ended in solemnity and quietness, but it can hardly have begun
so.  The stamp of truth seems to rest on John's account of what took
place, simply because it expresses so naturally Jesus's method of
dealing with the contention which Luke says was in existence.  He rose
from the table and performed for His followers the ceremony their
jealousy of one another had made them omit.  The foot-washing may have
had a direct reference to the future practice of mutual service, but it
had also an immediate significance.  The disciples refused to wash one
another's feet, and the Lord and Master of them all undertook the duty
Himself.  Perhaps the change of feeling induced by this simple and
lowly act made possible the beautiful utterances which only John has
preserved for us (John xiii.-xvii.).

In the forefront of this discourse, however, Jesus exchanged a few
sentences of special emphasis with Peter.  "Simon, Simon," He declared,
"behold, Satan, asked to have you that he might sift you as wheat; but
I made supplication for thee, that thy faith fail not; and do thou,
when once thou hast turned again, stablish thy brethren."  This
statement of tender solicitude must have been called forth by His
knowledge of the contention which had been taking place.  Doubtless He
was filled with sorrow that Peter had not yet learned the lesson of
humility and self-forgetfulness.  He foresaw the failure, the
cowardice, the denial, but He foresaw, too, the repentance, the
restoration, and the greater Peter whose strength should lie in his
humility and willingness to be led by the Spirit of God.  But at this
moment the very last person to see any need of such a change was Peter
himself.  Jesus went on to describe what in the time immediately
following would happen to the little band.  "All ye," He said, "shall
be offended in Me this night, for it is written, Ye shall smite the
Shepherd, and the sheep of the flock shall be scattered abroad."  Peter
instantly declared, "Though all shall be offended in Thee I will never
be offended."  What feelings were contending in his mind at the moment
we can only conjecture.  Possibly he felt a little sore at the implied
rebuke contained in the foot-washing and in the prophecy of the sifting
which had followed it.  More probably, however, the simple affection
which he really had for his Master impelled him to declare his loyalty.
"Exceeding vehemently," according to his own account, he persisted, "If
I must _die_ with Thee I will not deny Thee."  He felt it was possible
that Jesus might in the coming danger need to rely upon the services of
an active and courageous friend like himself.  Doubtless he felt every
word he said, but he also felt the importance of the assistance he
could render to Jesus.  It never occurred to him that Jesus had no need
of his assistance.  Peter needed a sharp lesson, and ere long he had
it.  The secret of true service consists in self-emptying.  He learned
the true spirit of his Master's teaching only after the utter and
painful failure of his own self-confident promises.  For the present
Jesus's only reply was, "Verily I say unto thee, that thou, to-day,
even this night, before the cock crow twice shalt deny me thrice."




VIII.

Gethsemane and After.

The testing time was not far distant.  Peter, filled with determination
to show his loyalty and courage, seems to have carried away from the
upper room one of two swords that had lain therein.  He believed
himself ready for emergencies, but failed at the very outset to give
what his Master really needed.  Once again we find the story told best
by Peter himself.  He, James and John were stationed by their Master's
desire a little nearer to His person than were the others.  Most
pathetically Jesus entreated their sympathy.  "My soul is exceeding
sorrowful even unto death.  Abide ye here and watch."  This, however,
they proved themselves unable to do.  Luke says they were "sleeping for
sorrow," and most likely this is in a measure true.  They could not
have been indifferent to their Master's trouble.  He had given them
sufficient opportunity to observe His state of mind, and doubtless they
had done so, and were stirred with affectionate sympathy.  Nevertheless
this sympathy did not go so far as to enable them to share in His
vigil.  Probably Peter considered himself as a guard to His person--the
intensity of his Master's agony he could not understand.  His emphatic
promise in the upper room, however, was being badly fulfilled.  Even if
he were no more than a guard to Christ's person he should have kept
awake.  In his own account of the scene he places the emphasis on this
point: "And He cometh and findeth them sleeping, and saith unto Peter,
Simon, sleepest _thou_?  Couldest thou not watch _one hour_?  Watch and
pray, that ye enter not into temptation."  The implied reproach here
has reference almost certainly to the vehemence of Peter's promise of
superior loyalty.  "Though all shall be offended yet will not I."
Jesus gently reminded him of the promise, and signified that he had
begun badly in the way of keeping it.  The Master recognised, however,
the sincerity and simple affection of the Apostle in His concluding
words, "The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak."

Even while Jesus was speaking the surprise came.  Judas and the rabble
with swords, staves and lanterns burst into the garden.  Instantly all
was confusion and alarm; only Jesus remained calm and self-possessed.
Judas stepped forward and kissed Him; the disciples hurried to His
side, Peter drew his sword, and without waiting for explanations struck
at the foremost of the advancing band.  The act was one of sheer folly;
it might have involved himself and his companions in one common ruin.
So far from saving Jesus it was Jesus who now saved him.  The Master
turned hastily round and with quick gesture bade Peter restore the
sword to its place, saying, "They that take the sword shall perish with
the sword."  The statement no doubt had immediate reference to Peter's
rashness.  Jesus saw that any of His disciples taken with arms in their
hands would forfeit their lives.  The warning did not need to be
repeated; Peter's new-found courage had already deserted him.  The
assailants seem to have been in similar case.  To save His disciples
Jesus confronted them, and as He advanced they retreated, stumbling
over one another, till, as John relates, they fell to the ground.

"Whom seek ye?" asked the victim of Pharisaic hate.  "Jesus of
Nazareth," they replied.  "I am He," was the rejoinder, and then, with
a thoughtfulness and love of which in this dreadful hour Jesus only
seems to have been capable, He continued, "If therefore ye seek Me let
these go their way."  For some moments the officers hesitated; the
majesty and dignity of Him whom they had come to seize cast a spell
upon them; no one liked to be the first to arrest Him, and Jesus had to
declare Himself a second time ere the leaders ventured to execute their
commission.  The moment this was done, however, "all the disciples left
Him.  and fled."

So far Peter's self-assertion had ended in failure, but further
humiliation was yet to come.  He could not bear to remain in ignorance
of the fate of a Master whom he really and truly loved; so, checking
his flight, when he saw the procession move off he followed it at a
safe distance.  His friend and partner, John, who appears to have had
friends in the house of Caiaphas, obtained admission for him and he
waited therein, as Matthew says, "to see the end."  All his bravery had
now deserted him; he was in a strange city where men of his province
were despised and ridiculed.  He was only a humble fisherman, and
stricken with fear by finding himself in the power of authorities
ecclesiastical and secular.  Humanly speaking, his next mistake was one
that might have been prophesied.  He was discovered and questioned; in
his bewilderment and terror all the coarseness of his old Galilean life
returned upon him, and, forgetful of everything but the desire of
saving himself, he denied his Master, with cursing and swearing.  Jesus
directed upon him a second reproach, this time a mute one.  He "turned
and looked upon Peter," but that look was enough.  It brought him to
his senses, laid bare his miserable failure, ingratitude, cowardice and
broken promises.  He saw how completely he had fallen beneath himself
by over-confidence in himself.  The Peter of that moment was not the
real Peter, after all.  He did love his Master, and had run the risk of
arrest and death to get near Him again, but his humiliation was
complete and his self-abasement intense.  "He went out and wept
bitterly."  Shall we say that the experience of the next few days was
the greatest crisis in his career?  From this depth of humiliation he
rose qualified to become an ambassador and a saviour.




IX.

The Power of the Resurrection.

We know nothing of Peter's history during the anguished hours that
intervened between the Crucifixion and the Resurrection, but we may
believe that his shame and contrition continued until Jesus Himself
breathed in his ear words of forgiveness and hope.  We may infer
indirectly that Peter must have been humbled by the recollection of his
own self-confident boasting in the presence of the other apostles, for
we find him still in association with them.  The little company seems
to have held together to mourn their lost Master and to assist each
other with a common sympathy.  That Peter must have been with them is
clear from the fact that he was mentioned by name to the women who
visited the tomb on the first day of the week.  "Go, tell His disciples
_and Peter_, He goeth before you into Galilee."  When we consider that
Peter still associated with those who had listened to his
self-confident assumption of superiority to themselves we can discern
something more than remorse in his demeanour.  There is evidence of a
new humility, and yet at the same time a continuance of tender
affection for the Lord whom he fully believed he should never see again.

There is one incident in which Jesus was concerned after the
Resurrection of which there is no record--there could be none.  It is
the first interview between Jesus and Peter after the Resurrection.
The disciples in the upper room were informed that the Lord had
appeared unto Simon.  What took place at that first meeting we can
never imagine; it must have been a season of such sacredness and
solemnity that Peter would not be likely to say much about it to his
brethren.  The loving thoughtfulness of Jesus bade Him seek out His
humiliated and sorrow-stricken follower that He might assure him of
forgiveness and restoration.  Very intense and holy must their
intercourse have been.  From this moment Peter became a great and noble
character; his discipline has not been for nothing, his self-seeking is
at an end; ambition has no place in his mind for the future; arrogance
and self-confidence thenceforth must have given place to a lowliness
born of the remembrance of his cowardice and wretched failure.  When in
after days he wrote for the guidance of the saints he was writing from
the depths of his own experience: "Yea, all of you gird yourselves with
humility to serve one another, for God resisteth the proud, but giveth
grace to the humble" (1 Peter v. 5).

The appearance of genuineness rests upon this New Testament story.  In
its idyllic simplicity and faithfulness to the facts of human nature it
stands in marked contrast to the spurious and unauthorised legends
about Jesus and His Apostles with which the sub-apostolic age abounded.
The Church has not lost much, in all probability, by the oblivion in
which these lesser gospels have been buried.  To unearth them now
would, no doubt, be of service in throwing light upon critical problems
in regard to the existing New Testament texts, but they could add
nothing to the sweet and natural accounts of the spiritual history of
the men who guided the early Church.  We know Peter better from the
pages of the four Gospels than we do from legendary accounts.
Indirectly this faithfulness of the evangelic records is of great
assistance in establishing their historicity.  Nothing is concealed, or
toned down, that we ought to know, nothing that would tend to represent
the Apostles as superhuman or exceptional in their lofty character is
thrust upon our notice; we are permitted to see Peter as he really was,
a man made noble by the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ.

What he was, we are.  Ambition, self-seeking, self-confidence, have
throughout the history of Christendom been the most serious defects of
the strongest characters.  Sometimes these vices have been displayed
upon a grand scale, oftener their scope has been petty and mean.  The
sins of the Catholic Church, as painted by a Bernard or a Catherine of
Siena, are to be found in many a little Bethel in the Protestant
England of our day.  Simony is not unknown amongst the ministers of
Christ, even in the ranks of Non-conformity.  Not unfrequently these
sinful tendencies are to be found allied with a true and earnest desire
to serve the Master.  All the same, they are a serious hindrance, not
only to Christian character, but to the effect of Christian service;
the spirit in which a man does his work has the profoundest influence
upon the good result of that work.  Where a man is sincere in his wish
to do good, and yet at the same time in any degree the victim of his
own self-confidence or self-seeking, he is sooner or later brought to
the point where he must choose between his wish and his practice.  In
nearly every case the necessity for this choice is revealed to him by a
sharp discipline.  Peter's case is repeated again and again in the
lives of the servants of God.  It is hard to dislodge self from its
vantage-ground in the region of human motives.  It would be hard to
find a church in which selfishness or jealousy had neither place nor
influence, and it is uncommonly difficult, even for a good and true
man, not to feel elated by admiration or depressed by being surpassed.
But surely the cure for this kind of feeling is included in the very
nature of Christian service.  There is absolutely no relation between
moral excellence and worldly recognition of it.  We have conceded
something to the world when we stop to think of its applause as an
object of desire.  It is easier to go without such applause and to
labour in obscurity than it is to remain unaffected by it once it has
been bestowed.  Still harder is it for a man to retire from a position
and a duty in which he has done nobly and well, and then to see his
bishopric taken by another.  Sooner or later this experience falls to
the lot of most of God's heroes; it were well, therefore, that they
should recognise it in advance, count the cost, know their own minds,
and render unnecessary the sharp discipline which accompanies
self-discovery.  When God means to use us, as He meant to use Peter, He
never spares us.  Jesus could not afford to allow Peter to go his own
way, and therefore it was that the prince of the Apostles became an
instrument for good, yet so as by fire.




X.

A New Commission.

Although, however, our Lord had in such a beautiful and thoughtful way
restored His poor, self-abased disciple in private, Peter had still a
necessary discipline to undergo.  He had sinned in the presence of
others, it was necessary that others should know of the new
understanding between his Master and himself.  Only John has preserved
the record of the conversation in which this new understanding was
declared.  But Peter himself distinctly refers to it in his Second
Epistle (i., 14).  John tells us in the last chapter of his Gospel that
Peter and a few of the accustomed circle went fishing on the Lake of
Tiberias.  Peter's announcement, "I go a fishing," has sometimes been
taken to imply that he had determined to renounce apostleship and
return to his old life, that, in short, he was disappointed with the
reward of following Jesus and disenchanted with the vision of a Kingdom
of God.  "I go a fishing," therefore, has been construed to mean "I
abandon these dreams; they have brought me no advantage; I will go back
to my fisherman's boat and my fisherman's home."  It is difficult to
see what justification there is for this theory.  Peter was simply
continuing habits he had never entirely renounced.  Neither he nor John
had any intention of dismissing all thought of Jesus or of abandoning
His service when they entered upon this particular fishing expedition.
On the contrary, it is probable that their minds, hearts and
conversation were full of the marvels which had occurred since first
the vision of angels had informed them that Jesus was alive.  No doubt
they were full of expectancy in regard to the place and time of His
next appearance.  About daybreak, as they drew near to the shore, they
perceived some one standing on the beach whom presently they made out
to be the Lord.  John was the first to recognise Him, and told Peter,
who instantly leaped into the sea and went to Him.  Jesus had prepared
a meal for the hungry disciples, and waited till they had broken their
fast before entering upon the serious subject which occupied His mind
and, perhaps, Peter's.

Possibly Peter had some knowledge of what Jesus intended to say, though
not of the form in which it was to be said.  In the previous and more
private interview the Master had most likely signified to the disciple
that the protestations he had made in the presence of others in the
upper room would have to be referred to again in the presence of some
at least of those who had first heard them.  He could not, therefore,
have been surprised at the three questions now addressed to him.
"Simon, son of John," said the Master, "lovest thou Me more than these
([Greek: _agapáo_])?"  The now humbled Simon replied in lowly terms by
appealing to Jesus's personal knowledge of him, and in particular,
perhaps, to their previous private conversation.  "Yea, Lord," said he,
"Thou knowest that I love Thee" ([Greek: _philô_]).  The reference to
the upper room is distinctly seen both in question and answer.  In the
former case Simon had claimed for himself a superiority in devotion.
He had offered to his Master the loyalty of a soldier to his captain or
of a friend to his friend.  He had assumed that his assistance was of
importance to Jesus; he had offered to devote himself as a patriot
might to his country, or a hero to a cause.  Of this Jesus now reminded
him by the use of a single word ([Greek: _agapas_]).  The English New
Testament rendering of this passage fails to convey its full
significance.  Peter surrendered his whole position; he had no
intention of doing more than affirming what Christ already knew, that
even in the midst of his boasting, desertion and denial, he had very
really and truly loved his Master with a deep and tender affection.
This he expressed in his careful answer by the use of the word [Greek:
_philô_].[1]  In effect, he now offers the love that a child might give
to a parent.  He is conscious he can confer no benefit upon Christ, nor
be of any service to Him beyond the powers of other people.  Very
humbly, therefore, he asserts that his heart is true.  He loves his
Master, and his Master knows it.

Three times does Jesus put the same question, on each occasion
following up the answer by giving to Peter a new and glorious
commission.  He was to feed the lambs and tend the sheep.  As Peter had
denied Him three times so now he is interrogated three times concerning
his loyalty.  The third test was the closest.  Jesus takes up Peter's
own word, and asks him "[Greek: _phileis me_]."  The narrative goes on
to say that Peter was grieved because he was asked the third time
"Lovest thou Me?"  Here we see, however, that the source of his sorrow
was that Jesus should appear to doubt his humble use of the humblest
word he could find to express his unchanging affection for the Master
who had restored him to his better self.  Jesus had pressed the
question home by adopting Peter's word, and the earnest reply which
followed satisfied Him.  "Yea, Lord," said poor Simon, "Thou knowest
all things; Thou knowest that I love Thee."  Then said Jesus, "Feed my
sheep."  Peter, though he hardly knew it, was now more ready for
service than he had ever been before.  Christ had accepted the service
of one who now rated his own value so low.  From henceforth, indeed, he
was to be a fisher of men.  It had taken a long time to lead Peter to
this point, yet Jesus had foreseen it at their first meeting in
Bethabara beyond Jordan.  Very patiently had He trained him from the
hour in which, with prophetic insight, He had said, "I will make you
_to become_ a fisher of men."  Now indeed He could set him to work.
Now He could trust him with the sublime duty of being the rock on which
the new-born Church should rest.



[1] In whatever language they were originally spoken there is a
presumption amounting to certainty that the careful use of these words
in the Greek of John's Gospel corresponded to the shade of meaning
employed both by Jesus and Peter.




XI.

The Prince of the Apostles.

Jesus's closing words to Peter as we have them in the 21st of St. John
could only have been spoken to one who had advanced far beyond the
point at which ease, honour or riches were regarded as motives for
service in the Kingdom of God.  What a contrast between the Peter who
inquired, "What shall we have therefore?" and the Peter to whom the
solemn assertion was made, "Verily, verily, I say unto thee, when thou
wast young thou girdedst thyself, and walkedst whither thou wouldest:
but when thou shalt be old, thou shalt stretch forth thy hands, and
another shall gird thee, and carry thee whither thou wouldest not.  Now
this He spake, signifying by what manner of death he should glorify
God.  And when He had spoken this, He saith unto him, Follow Me."  Here
again is a distinct reference to the "Lo, we have left all and followed
Thee" of an earlier day.  Peter is now informed that he is to expect
stripes, imprisonment, martyrdom.  He is to glorify God in sufferings
and death.  He can be under no further misapprehension as to the
meaning of Christ's mission and work for and amongst men.  "Follow Me!"
meant more now than it had done the first time he heard it by the Lake
of Galilee.  Calvary had supplied the interpretation.  Peter's new
commission began at the Cross.  Prominence in the Kingdom had been
given to him, but that prominence was a prominence of suffering.  He
was to be first of all, not in ease, reputation or power, but first in
the difficulties, the dangers and trials of the little community he had
now to shepherd.  In the Second Epistle of Peter i. 14, there is a
pathetic confirmation in Peter's own words of the solemn charge
addressed to him by the Lake of Tiberias: "I think it right, as long as
I am in this tabernacle, to stir you up by putting you in remembrance;
knowing that the putting off of my tabernacle cometh swiftly, even as
our Lord Jesus Christ signified unto me.  Yea, I will give diligence
that at every time ye may be able after my decease to call these things
to remembrance."

One or two instances might here be cited as evidence of the new spirit
which animated him who was now prince of the Apostles.  In John xxi.
20-23 we have given to us in a few words the earliest instance of
Peter's new-found desire of self-abnegation.  "Peter, turning about,
seeth the disciple whom Jesus loved following....  Peter therefore
seeing him saith to Jesus, Lord, and what shall this man do?  Jesus
saith unto him, If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to
thee?  Follow thou Me."  Curiously enough, this incident has been
variously misinterpreted.  Peter has been accused of idle curiosity or
of semi-discontent at the comparison of his own hard lot with the
probable happier fortune of the Apostle John.[1]  The reply of Jesus to
the inquiry has therefore been represented as a sharp and well-deserved
rebuke.  It can hardly be that any of these explanations represent the
true state of the case.  The truth would rather seem to be that Peter
shrank from the new responsibility and prominence which had been
assigned to him, and would willingly have become a follower of his old
rival, now his companion and friend.  John was the disciple who
understood his Master most nearly--the one "whom Jesus loved."  He had
been present with Peter on the Mount of Transfiguration, in Gethsemane
and in the house of Caiaphas.  Peter in old days had been jealous of
him, and this jealousy had led to strife among the disciples.  He was
in no mood to strive for preference now.  The disciple whom Jesus loved
had, he thought, a better right to tend the sheep and feed the lambs
than he had.  John was the only one who had not entirely abandoned his
Master; he had followed Him to the midnight trial, he had been present
at the Crucifixion, and been the recipient of a pathetic commission
thereat--namely, to take care of Jesus's mother.  Peter now felt that
John was a worthier leader of the Apostolic Church than he himself
could hope to be.  No doubt the arrest of Jesus had drawn them more
closely together.  John had done him the service of obtaining his
admission to the house of Caiaphas.  He had remained with him most
likely in the dark hours before the resurrection morning; he
accompanied him to the tomb; he was with him now.  How could Peter
better exemplify his humility than by his unwillingness to take
precedence of a man whose true nobility and generosity he had now
proved to the full?  Jesus's answer gave in very brief terms a forecast
of John's function in the Kingdom, and re-emphasized for Peter the
importance of unquestioning obedience.  He said, in effect: John's
commission will not affect yours.  I have chosen.  Suppose that yours
is to strive and lead, and his to stand and wait?  How will his
commission affect the faithful discharge of yours?

How thoroughly both Peter and John accepted the positions allocated to
them their immediate after history shows.  Peter led the van, John
served in silence.  Their friendship continued and expanded.  For the
future we hear much of "Peter and John."  These two began a new
friendship.  John shared in Peter's punishment; if Peter did the
speaking alone, John took the imprisonments with him.  As they had been
together on the Mount of Transfiguration, together in Gethsemane,
together in the hall of Caiaphas, so now they remained together in
spirit until the day of Peter's martyrdom came.  (Acts iii. 1-iv.)

In a certain sense we have now reached the beginning rather than the
end of the life and work of the Apostle Peter.  From the point at which
most of the particulars regarding his personality cease to be afforded
in the New Testament commences the astonishing work of which he was in
a sense the leader and inspiration.  A few Galilean fishermen set to
work to turn the world upside down.  The vast and venerable fabric of
the Christian Church reposes upon such foundations as we have
considered.  This revolution wrought in the history of the world is a
moral miracle.  The task essayed was stupendous.  Neither Peter nor his
companions could have estimated its magnitude or foreseen its triumph.
That he himself should come to be regarded as the first and greatest of
the long line of sovereign pontiffs of the Roman Church we may be sure
never occurred to him.  He entered upon his task in faith, leaving
results to the great Master whom He served.  Compared with the great
Apostle of the Gentiles he was neither wise nor learned; he was but one
of the weak things of earth chosen to confound the mighty.  The Holy
Spirit rested upon him for service.  He was a willing instrument whom
God could use because self-seeking was entirely banished from his
motives and desires.  How this came to be so we have just seen.  It was
Jesus who made Peter what he was.  Jesus believed in him from the
first, knew him better than he knew himself, and looked to the Peter
that was to be rather than the Simon that was.  Jesus dealt with him in
patience and love such as fills us with wonderment.  Who but Jesus
would have thought it worth while to do it?  What He did for Simon the
fisherman He is still able to do for all who yield themselves to Him.
There is nothing impossible with Christ.  The weakest and most sinful
amongst us is of infinite value to Him.  How many of us are saints in
the making!  May the story of His dealings with one life lead us all to
the same experience of faithful and loving obedience.  May it be ours
to respond even through stumblings and failures to His gracious
invitation, "Follow Me!"  He will lead us from strength to strength, we
shall learn of Him and find rest unto our souls.



[1] Bruce, "Training of the Twelve," p. 511.




LONDON:

W. SPEAIGHT AND SONS, PRINTERS,

FETTER LANE, E.C.











End of Project Gutenberg's The Making of an Apostle, by R. J. Campbell