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modern would be the gallows, similarly consecrated,) but who
burning with that devotion which led him of old to bear that shameful
burden? His own humble name raised to a place above the brightest
of Roman, of Grecian, of Hebrew, or Chaldean story! but made, alas!
the supporter of a tyranny over souls, far more grinding and
remorseless than any which he labored to overthrow. The fabled
spot of his grave, housed in a temple to which the noblest shrine of
ancient heathenism “was but a cell!” but in which are celebrated,
under the sanction of his sainted name, the rites of an idolatry, than
which that of Rome, or Greece, or Egypt would seem more
spiritual,――and of tedious, unmeaning ceremonies, compared with
which the whole formalities of the Levitical ritual might be
pronounced simple and practical!
These would be the first sights that would meet the eye of the
disentombed apostle, if he should rise over the spot which claims the
honors of his martyr-tomb, and the consecration of his commission.
How mournfully would he turn from all the mighty honors of that
idolatrous worship,――from the deified glories of that sublimest of
shrines that ever rose over the earth! How earnestly would he long
for the high temple of one humble, pure heart, that knew and felt the
simplicity of the truth as it was in Jesus! How joyfully would he hail
the manifestations of that active evangelizing spirit that consecrated
and fitted him for his great missionary enterprise! His amazed and
grieved soul would doubtless here and there feel its new view
rewarded, in the sight of much that was accordant with the holy
feeling that inspired the apostolic band. All over Christendom, might
he find scattered the occasional lights of a purer devotion, and on
many lands he would see the truth pouring, in something of the clear
splendor for which he hoped and labored. But of the countless souls
that owned Jesus as Lord and Savior, millions on millions,――and
vast numbers too, even in the lands of a reformed faith,――would be
found still clinging to the vain support of forms, and names, and
observances,――and but a few, a precious few, who had learned
what that means――“I will have mercy and not sacrifice”――works
and not words,――deeds and not creeds,――high, simple, active,
energetic, enterprising devotion, and not cloistered
reverence,――chanceled worship,――or soul-wearying rituals.
Would not the apostle, sickened with the revelations of such a
resurrection, and more appalled than delighted, call on the power
that brought him up from the peaceful rest of the blessed, to give him
again the calm repose of those who die in the Lord, rather than the
idolatrous honors of such an apotheosis, or the strange sight of the
results of such an evangelization?――“Let me enter again the gates
of Hades, but not the portals of these temples of superstition. Let me
lie down with the souls of the humble, but not in the shrine of this
heathenish pile. Leave me once more to rest from my labors, with
my works still following; and call me not from this repose till the
labors I left on earth unachieved, have been better done. We did not
follow these cunningly-devised fables, when we made known to men
the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but the simple eye-
witness story of his majesty. We had a surer word of prophecy; and
well would it have been, if these had turned their wandering eyes to
it, as to a light shining in a dark place, and kept that steady beacon
in view, through the stormy gloom of ages, until the day dawn and
the day-star arise in their hearts. These are not the new heavens
and the new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness, for which we
looked, according to God’s promise. Those must the faithful still look
for, believing that Jehovah, with whom a thousand years are as one
day, is not slack concerning his promise, but desires all to come to
repentance, and will come himself at last in the achievment of our
labors. Then call me.”
What a life was this! Its early recorded events found him a poor
fisherman, in a rude, despised province, toiling day by day in a low,
laborious business,――living with hardly a hope above the beasts
that perish. By the side of that lake, one morning, walked a stranger,
who, with mild words but wondrous deeds, called the poor fisherman
to leave all, and follow him. Won by the commanding promise of the
call, he obeyed, and followed that new Master, with high hopes of
earthly glory for a while, which at last were darkened and crushed in
the gradual developments of a far deeper plan than his rude mind
could at first have appreciated. But still he followed him, through toils
and sorrows, through revelations and trials, at last to the sight of his
bloody cross; and followed him, still unchanged in heart, basely and
almost hopelessly wicked. The fairest trial of his virtue proved him
after all, lazy, bloody-minded, but cowardly,――lying, and utterly
faithless in the promise of new life from the grave. But a change
came over him. He, so lately a cowardly disowner of his Master’s
name, now, with a courageous martyr-spirit dared the wrath of the
awful magnates of his nation, in attesting his faith in Christ. Once a
fierce, brawling, ear-cutting Galilean,――henceforth he lived an
unresisting subject of abuse, stripes, bonds, imprisonment and
threatened death. When was there ever such a triumph of grace in
the heart of man? The conversion of Paul himself could not be
compared with it, as a moral miracle. The apostle of Tarsus was a
refined, well-educated man, brought up in the great college of the
Jewish law, theology and literature, and not wholly unacquainted with
the Grecian writers. The power of a high spiritual faith over such a
mind, however steeled by prejudice, was not so wonderful as its
renovating, refining and elevating influence on the rude fisherman of
Bethsaida. Paul was a man of considerable natural genius, and he
shows it on every page of his writings; but in Peter there are seen
few evidences of a mind naturally exalted, and the whole tenor of his
words and actions seems to imply a character of sound common
sense, and great energy, but of perceptions and powers of
expression, great, not so much by inborn genius, as by the impulse
of a higher spirit within him, gradually bringing him to the possession
of new faculties,――intellectual as well as moral. This was the spirit
which raised him from the humble task of a fisherman, to that of
drawing men and nations within the compass of the gospel, and to a
glory which not all the gods of ancient superstition ever attained.
Most empty honors! Why hew down the marble mountains, and
rear them into walls as massive and as lasting? Why raise the
solemn arches and the lofty towers to overtop the everlasting hills
with their heavenward heads? Or lift the skiey dome into the middle
heaven, almost outswelling the blue vault itself? Why task the soul of
art for new creations to line the long-drawn aisles, and gem the
fretted roof? There is a glory that shall outlast all
――a glory far beyond the brightest things of earth in its brightest
day; for “they that be wise shall shine as the firmament, and they that
turn many to righteousness as the stars, for ever and ever.” Yet in
this the apostle rejoices not;――not that adoring millions lift his
name in prayers, and thanksgivings, and songs, and incense, from
the noblest piles of man’s creation, to the glory of a God,――not
even that over all the earth, in all ages, till the perpetual hills shall
bow with time,――till “eternity grows gray,” the pure in heart will yield
him the highest human honors of the faith, on which nations,
continents and worlds hang their hopes of salvation;――he “rejoices
not that the spirits” of angels or men “are subject to him,――but that
his name is written in heaven.”
ANDREW.
his authentic history.
Bethabara.――Some of the later critics seem disposed to reject this now common
reading, and to adopt in its place that of Bethany, which is supported by such a number of
old manuscripts and versions, as to offer a strong defense against the word at present
established. Both the Syriac versions, the Arabic, Aethiopic, the Vulgate, and the Saxon,
give “Bethany;” and Origen, from whom the other reading seems to have arisen, confesses
that the previously established word was Bethany, which he, with about as much sense of
justice and propriety as could be expected from even the most judicious of the Fathers,
rejected for the unauthorized Bethabara, on the simple ground that there is such a place on
the Jordan, mentioned in Judges vii. 24,――while Bethany is elsewhere in the gospels
described as close to Jerusalem, on the mount of Olives; the venerable Father never
apprehending the probability of two different places bearing the same name, nor referring to
the etymology of Bethany, which is ( בית אניהbeth anyah,) “the house (or place) of a boat,”
equivalent to a “ferry.” (Origen on John, quoted by Wolf.) Chrysostom and Epiphanius are
also quoted by Lampe, as defending this perversion on similar grounds. Heracleon, Nonnus
and Beza are referred to in defense of Bethany; and among moderns, Mill, Simon and
others, are quoted by Wolf on the same side. Campbell and Bloomfield also defend this
view. Scultetus, Grotius and Casaubon, argue in favor of Bethabara. Lightfoot makes a long
argument to prove that Bethany, the true reading, means not any village or particular spot of
that name, but the province or tract, called ♦ Batanea, lying beyond the Jordan, in the
northern part of its course,――a conjecture hardly supported by the structure of the word,
nor by the opinion of any other writer. This Bethany beyond the Jordan, seems to have been
thus particularized as to position, in order to distinguish it from the place of the same name
near Jerusalem. Its exact situation cannot now be ascertained; but it was commonly placed
about fifteen or twenty miles south of Lake Gennesaret.
Lamb of God.――This expression has been the subject of much discussion, and has
been amply illustrated by the labors of learned commentators. Whether John the Baptizer
expected Jesus to atone for the sins of the world, by death, has been a question ably
argued by Kuinoel and Gabler against, and by Lampe, Wolf, and Bloomfield, for the idea of
an implied sacrifice and expiation. The latter writer in particular, is very full and candid: Wolf
also gives a great number of references, and to these authors the critical must resort for the
minutiae of a discussion, too heavy and protracted for this work. (See the above authors on
John i. 29.)
The earliest story about Andrew is, that he was sent to Scythia
first, when the apostles divided the world into provinces of duty. His
route is said to have been through Greece, Epirus, and then directly
northward into Scythia. Another later writer however, makes a
different track for him, leading from Palestine into Asia Minor,
through Cappadocia, Galatia and Bithynia;――thence north through
the country of the cannibals and to the wild wastes of
Scythia;――thence south along the northern, western and southern
shores of the Black sea, to Byzantium, (now Constantinople,) and
after some time, through Thrace, southwestwards into Macedonia,
Thessaly, and Achaia, in which last, his life and labors are said to
have ended. By the same author, he is also in another passage said
to have been driven from Byzantium by threats of the persecution,
and therefore to have crossed over the Black sea to city of
Argyropolis, on its southern coast, where he preached two years,
and constituted Stachys bishop of a church which he there founded;
and thence to Sinope in Paphlagonia. It is said by others that, on his
great northern journey, he went not only into Scythia but into
Sogdiana, (now Tartary,) and even to the Sacae, (near the borders of
Thibet,) and to India.
The earliest mention made of the apostle Andrew, by any writer whatever, after the
evangelists, is by Origen, (about A. D. 230 or 240,) who speaks of him as having been sent
to the Scythians. (Commentary on Genesis, 1. 3.) The passage is preserved only in the
Latin translation of his writings, the original Greek of that part having been lost. The date of
the original however, is too late to deserve any credit. A story making its first appearance
nearly two centuries after the occurrence which it commemorates, with no reference to
authorities, is but poor evidence. Eusebius (Church History, III. 1.) mentions barely the
same circumstance as Origen, (A. D. 315.) Gregory Nazianzen (orat. in Ar.) is the first who
says that Andrew went to Greece. (A. D. 370.) Chrysostom also (Homily on xii. apostles)
mentions this. (A. D. 398.) Jerom (Script. Ecc.) quotes Sophronius, as saying that Andrew
went also to the Sogdians and Sacans. (A. D. 397.)
Augustin (the faith against Manichaeanism) is the first who brings in very much from
tradition, respecting Andrew; and his stories are so numerous and entertaining in their
particulars, as to show that before his time, fiction had been most busily at work with the
apostles;――but the details are all of such a character as not to deserve the slightest credit.
The era of his writings moreover, is so late, (A. D. 395,) that he along with his
contemporaries, Jerom and Chrysostom, may be condemned as receivers of late traditions,
and corrupters of the purity of historical as well as sacred truth.
This story is from Nicephorus Callistus, a monk of the early part of the fourteenth
century. (See Lardner, Credibility of Gospel History chapter 165.) He wrote an ecclesiastical
history of the period from the birth of Christ to the year 610, in which he has given a vast
number of utterly fabulous stories, adopting all the fictions of earlier historians, and adding,
as it would seem, some new ones. His ignorance and folly are so great, however, that he is
not considered as any authority, even by the Papist writers; for on this very story of Andrew,
even the credulous Baronius says, “Sed fide nutant haec, ob apertum mendacium de
Zeuzippo tyranno,” &c. “These things are unworthy of credit, on account of the manifest lie
about king Zeuzippus, because there was no king in Thrace at that time, the province being
quietly ruled by a Roman president.” (Baronius, Annals, 44. § 31.) The story itself is in
Nicephorus, Church History, II. 39.
This story is literally translated from one of the “apostolical stories” of a monk of the
middle ages, who passed them off as true histories, written by Abdias, said to have been
one of the seventy disciples sent out by Jesus, (Luke x. 1,) and to have been afterwards
ordained bishop of Babylon, (by Simon Zelotes and Jude.) It is an imposition so palpable
however, in its absurdities, that it has always been condemned by the best authorities, both
Protestant and Papist: as Melancthon, Bellarmin, Scultetus, Rivetus, the ♦ Magdeburg
centuriators, Baronius, Chemnitius, Tillemont, Vossius, and Bayle, whose opinions and
censures are most of them fully given in the preface to the work itself, by Johann Albert
Fabricius, (Codex apocrypha of the New Testament, part 2.)
Besides all these series of fictions on Andrew’s life, there are others, quoted as having
been written in the same department. “The Passion of St. Andrew,” a quite late apocryphal
story, professing to have been written by the elders and deacons of the churches of Achaia,
was long extensively received by the Papists, as an authentic and valuable book, and is
quoted by the eloquent and venerable Bernardus, with the most profound respect. It
abounds in long, tedious speeches, as well as painfully absurd incidents. The “Menaei,” or
Greek calendar of the saints, is also copious on this apostle, but is too modern to deserve
any credit whatever. All the ancient fables and traditions were at last collected into a huge
volume, by a Frenchman named Andrew de Saussay, who, in 1656, published at Paris, (in
Latin,) a book, entitled “Andrew, brother of Simon Peter, or, Twelve Books on the Glory of
Saint Andrew, the Apostle.” This book was afterwards abridged, or largely borrowed from,
by John Florian Hammerschmid, in a treatise, (in Latin,) published at Prague, in
1699,――entitled “The Apostolic Cross-bearer, or, St. Andrew, the Apostle, described and
set forth, in his life, death, martyrdom, miracles and discourses.”――Baillet’s Lives of the
Saints, (in French,) also contains a full account of the most remarkable details of these
fables. (Baillet, Vies de Saints, Vol. I. February 9th.)
By following these droll stories through all their details, the life of
Andrew might easily be made longer than that of Peter; but the
character of this work would be much degraded from its true
historical dignity by such contents. The monkish novels and
romances would undoubtedly make a very amusing, and in some
senses, an instructive book; and a volume as large as this might be
easily filled with these tales. But this extract will serve very well as a
specimen of their general character. A single passage farther, may
however be presented, giving a somewhat interesting fictitious
account of his crucifixion.
All this long story may, very possibly, have grown up from a beginning which was true;
that is, there may have been another Andrew, who, in a later age of the early times of
Christianity, may have gone over those regions as a missionary, and met with somewhat
similar adventures; and who was afterwards confounded with the apostle Andrew. The
Scotch, for some reason or other, formerly adopted Andrew as their national saint, and
represent him on a cross of a peculiar shape, resembling the letter X, known in heraldry by
the name of a saltier, and borne on the badges of the knights of the Scottish order of the
Thistle, to this day. This idea of his cross, however, has originated since the beginning of
the twelfth century, as I shall show by a passage from Bernardus.
The truly holy Bernard, (Abbot of Clairvaux, in France, A. D. 1112,) better worthy of the
title of Saint than ninety-nine hundredths of all the canonized who lived before him, even
from apostolic days,――has, among his splendid sermons, three most eloquent discourses,
preached in his abbey church, on St. Andrew’s day, in which he alludes to the actions of this
apostle, as recorded in the “Passion of St. Andrew,”――a book which he seems to quote as
worthy of credit. In Latin of Ciceronian purity, he has given some noble specimens of a
pulpit eloquence, rarely equalled in any modern language, and such as never blesses the
ears of the hearers of these days. He begins his first discourse on this subject with saying,
that in “celebrating the glorious triumphs of the blessed Andrew, they had that day been
delighted with the words of grace, that proceeded out of his mouth;”――(doubtless in
hearing the story of the crucifixion read from the fictitious book of the Passion of St. Andrew,
which all supposed to be authentic.) “For there was no room for sorrow, where he himself
was so intensely rejoiced. No one of us mourned for him in his sufferings, for no one dared
to weep over him, while he was thus exulting. So that he might most appropriately say to us,
what the cross-bearing Redeemer said to those who followed him with mourning,――‘Weep
not for me; but weep for yourselves.’ And when the blessed Andrew himself was led to the
cross, and the people, grieving for the unjust condemnation of the holy and just man, would
have prevented his execution,――he, with the most urgent prayer, forbade them from
depriving him of his crown of suffering. For ‘he desired indeed to be released, and to be with
Christ,’――but on the cross; he desired to enter the kingdom,――but by the door. Even as
he said to that loved form, ‘that by thee, he may receive me, who by thee has redeemed
me.’ Therefore if we love him, we shall rejoice with him; not only because he was crowned,
but because he was crucified.” (A bad, and unscriptural doctrine! for no apostle ever taught,
or was taught, that it was worth while for any man to be crucified, when he could well help
it.)
In his second sermon on the same subject, the animated Bernard remarks furthermore,
in comment on the behavior of Andrew, when coming in sight of his cross,――“You have
certainly heard how the blessed Andrew was stayed on the Lord, when he came to the
place where the cross was made ready for him,――and how, by the spirit which he had
received along with the other apostles, in the fiery tongues, he spoke truly fiery words. And
so, seeing from afar the cross prepared, he did not turn pale, though mortal weakness might
seem to demand it; his blood did not freeze,――his hair did not rise,――his voice did not
cleave to his throat, (non stetere comae, aut vox faucibus haesit.) Out of the abundance of
his heart, his mouth did speak; and the deep love which glowed in his heart, sent forth the
words like burning sparks.” He then quotes the speech of Andrew to the cross, as above
given, and proceeds: “I beseech you, brethren, say, is this a man who speaks thus? Is it not
an angel, or some new creature? No: it is merely a ‘man of like passions with ourselves.’
For the very agony itself, in whose approach he thus rejoiced, proves him to have been ‘a
man of passion.’ Whence, then, in man, this new exultation, and joy before unheard of?
Whence, in man, a mind so spiritual,――a love so fervent,――a courage so strong? Far
would it be from the apostle himself, to wish, that we should give the glory of such grace to
him. It is the ‘perfect gift, coming down from the Father of Lights,’――from him, ‘who alone
does wondrous things.’ It was, dearly beloved, plainly, ‘the spirit which helpeth our
infirmities,’ by which was shed abroad in his heart, a love, strong as death,――yea, and
stronger than death. Of which, O may we too be found partakers!”
The preacher then goes on with the practical application of the view of these sufferings,
and the spirit that sustained them, to the circumstances of his hearers. After some
discourse to this effect, he exhorts them to seek this spirit. “Seek it then, dearest! seek it
without ceasing,――seek it without doubting;――in all your works invoke the aid of this
spirit. For we also, my brethren, with the blessed Andrew, must needs take up our
cross,――yea, with that Savior-Lord whom he followed. For, in this he rejoiced,――in this
he exulted;――because not only for him, but with him, he would seem to die, and be
planted, so ‘that suffering with him, he might also reign with him.’ With whom, that we may
also be crucified, let us hear more attentively with the ears of our hearts, the voice of him
who says, ‘He who will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and
follow me.’ As if he said, ‘Let him who desires me, despise himself: let him who would do
my will, learn to break his own.’”