It was surely no evidence of a weak or trifling character, the readiness with which in his early manhood he listened to and obeyed the Saviour’s “follow me.” Could we even for a moment suppose that his mind was cast in a mould so weak as would render him unable to resist any command made, with a show of superior power? Speedily that thought would die away in the reflection, that no power or authority on earth could in such case have held him steadfast to his vows, till the shadows of a century clustered around him! To the cause which he espoused that morning when the people’s Heavenly Teacher promised that He would make them “fishers of men,” he cleaved steadfast, through persecutions and fiery trials innumerable, until worn out by many toils, and many years, he died. The love of God, revealed by his son, Jesus, extended to miserable, erring man, was the great truth that first touched and won his heart; and it was because he fervently believed that the marvellous mercy of God could not be otherwise than powerfully efficacious in turning sinners from the ways of death, that he so constantly presented that blessed thought to the mind of his hearers. In the recesses of his once darkened mind had penetrated the glorious mystery “God is Love.” To a generous, lofty spirit, that truth having made his own peace, it was the instant and abiding impulse, that he should always, and most earnestly, by that argument, urge the Christian duties on his fellows.
The recorded deeds of this missionary do not occupy so important or prominent a place in the sacred pages as do those of Peter, and of Paul, but by no means are we to consider him as gifted with less natural, or less miraculous power; neither was he subordinate to them in any particular.
When we think of these remarkable men, it is true, we are struck with their boldness, and perseverance, and unconquerable energy—we regard with admiring thought the action of their strong will, directed to the attainment of the most holy, heavenly objects; but even such contemplation does not take away the interest with which we consider him, on whose manly nature was laid the crown of loving gentleness; which, when we consider what his mission was, and what he taught, seems peculiarly and beautifully appropriate, and renders his character irresistibly attractive to whosoever studies it.
God and Love were the words graven on his spirit. Indeed, they were terms almost synonymous to his apprehension. God was love—and love an emanation from God, and these two, (if we may call them separate thoughts) induced as great a result, and as strongly marked John’s character, making so prominent the angelic features of his soul, as did self-love and covetousness stamp that of Judas—as did defiance of evil, and confidence in God’s justice, mark that of Paul; or, as did persevering faith, and determination for victory, distinguish the career of Peter.
His amiable and conciliatory nature did not exempt him from suffering, any more than did the straight-forward boldness of the bravest disciple of Christ. Distress and danger were his hand-maids, as they were of all who in that dark age advocated Christianity, and never could the humility, kindness, and forbearance of John, by his most bitter enemies, be construed into meanness, or to the promptings of a paltry spirit that weakly cringed to the rich men and the powerful.
In that solemn hour when Judas went forth from the presence of the Lord, convicted of his foul treachery, when the Saviour addressed to his disciples the saddest words of prophecy, speaking to them in that tender manner which won their deep attention, and lasting affection. He called them “little children”—saying—“A little while and I am with you, ye shall seek me, and as I said to the Jews, whither I go ye cannot come; so now I say unto you. A new commandment I give unto you, that ye love one another, as I have loved you. By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.”
Not one of the eleven listened to those words in vain, but a deeper impression seem they to have made upon the youngest of that honored group, the holy John; for the sentiment of that most impressive address was the burden of his thought and of his voice, to the last hour of his life.
Among the weeping women who gathered around the sacred Cross, the youngest disciple stood, notwithstanding his recent desertion, still the object of his Master’s kind regard and favor. How lovingly did the Saviour’s eyes rest upon the apostle—with what earnest emotion he directed John’s attention to the Virgin Mother, saying to her, “Woman, behold thy son!” and to John, “behold thy mother!” remembering even in that hour of bitterest sorrow, to provide for her who had been the guardian of his infancy, the fond, unfailing lover of his manhood.
To think on that obscure home of poverty, where the blessed Mother Mary dwelt, with the beloved disciple!
Blessed indeed was she, most worthy to be held by all the world in an ever affectionate remembrance; and yet, as a mortal woman, subject to like infirmities, passions and sins, with all born of the flesh, altogether unworthy adoration or worship!