JAMES THE APOSTLE
25 July 2010



In their lists of Jesus' twelve closest companions, the Gospel writers all agree there were two apostles named James: James the son of Alphaeus, commonly called "Saint James the Less” (or the younger), celebrated by the Church with the apostle Philip on 1 May; and James the brother of John, son of Zebedee and his wife Salome, nicknamed by Jesus with his brother Boanerges, or "sons of thunder", known as "Saint James the Great", whom we celebrate today.

If you think that's complicated, bear in mind that there may be as many as four different Jameses in the New Testament, including James of Jerusalem and James the Lord's Brother, depending on how you flesh out some of the family relationships all too briefly described by the New Testament writers. Add to that the fact that no fewer than three of the twelve apostles appear to have had fathers named Alphaeus, one or more of whom may have been the Clopas whose wife stood at the foot of the cross on the first Good Friday, and possibly even the Cleopas to whom Jesus appeared on the Road to Emmaus, and you will begin to wish the Evangelists had provided an index of proper names in their Gospels! Fortunately only James, son of Zebedee and brother of John, concerns us today; and his story is relatively (and I say relatively) straightforward.

We first meet him by the Sea of Galilee, where he and his brother are fishermen along with Andrew and his brother Simon Peter. Jesus calls them [not just Andrew, to whom our opening hymn refers] and immediately leaving their nets they follow him; and the four of them form a sort of "inner group" within the twelve, especially Peter, James and John, with Jesus at key moments in his ministry, such as the raising of Jairus' daughter or the Transfiguration.

It's also clear that James and John's mother Salome herself becomes a part of Jesus' larger entourage, being listed by Luke as one of the company of women who followed the twelve and provided for them, and by Matthew and Mark as present at the foot of the cross; Mark also mentions her by name as one of the women who went to the tomb on the first Easter morning. So it's not entirely surprising that she should be there in today's Gospel asking for a special favour for her two boys: Declare that these two sons of mine will sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your kingdom.

What she is asking for is not absolutely clear. But if at this point she is still expecting Jesus to bring in a political kingdom – something some of his followers continued to expect as late as the Ascension – then it is likely she is asking that they might continue to have prominent roles in Jesus' government … Chancellor and Home Secretary in a restored Kingdom of Israel. That would certainly fit with Jesus' discourse on the way earthly rulers habitually operate. That, however, is not what Jesus' mission is about. He is here to serve, not to be served; and those who follow him are called to the same model of service. Humility is the way to greatness in Jesus' kingdom.

This whole dialogue takes place immediately after Jesus' clearest prediction yet of his passion: the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and scribes, and they will condemn him to death; then they will hand him over to the Gentiles to be mocked and flogged and crucified; and on the third day he will be raised.

Mum has obviously not taken this in. And so Jesus is quite frank with the two brothers: they will suffer as he will suffer, drinking his cup. And for James that was to be literally true, as this morning's reading from the Acts of the Apostles reminded us. James was to become the very first of the Twelve to be martyred, executed by Herod around the year 44 A.D. as part of a general persecution of the Church which included the arrest of Peter but ended with the death of Herod himself, depicted by Luke as an act of punishment by God.

One account of his martyrdom reads as follows:

When the apostle James was led out to die, a man who had brought false accusations against him walked with him to the place of execution. He had doubtless expected to see James looking pale and frightened but he saw him, instead, bright and joyous, like a conqueror who had won a great battle. The false witness greatly wondered at this and became convinced that the Saviour in whom the prisoner by his side believed must be the true God or He could not impart such cheerfulness and courage to a man about to die. The man himself, therefore, became a convert to Christianity and was condemned to die with James. Both were consequently beheaded on the same day and with the same sword.

And there the story – or at least the biblical record – ends. The James who becomes prominent in Jerusalem as a leader of the church there is either James the Less, son of Alphaeus, or one of the other Jameses (depending on how you do the arithmetic); and it is he who is responsible for the Epistle of James in the New Testament, not today's James.

But (and this is why I say James' story is relatively straightforward) there are, as with all the apostles, non-biblical traditions about his ministry which may or may not tell us more. I am always mindful of the words of my training incumbent, quoting his own training incumbent: “If you put legend on the level of the Gospel, you should not be surprised if people put the Gospel on the level of legend.” But James is particularly associated with Spain, and his shrine at Compostela is one of the great Christians centres of pilgrimage.

Now it is not, in principle, impossible that James might have gone to Spain. Spain was an important part of the Empire, and we know there were Christians there in Paul's day he wanted to visit but was unable to. If James did go, however (and we cannot know either way), he would have to have gone in the ten years between the resurrection and his own martyrdom, returning to Jerusalem just before Herod unleashed his wave of persecution.

That his remains might have been transported to Spain, though, is entirely plausible, knowing the significance attached to relics from very early in Christian history – though again we have no way of knowing for sure. But what is certain is that Compostela is a place of enormous significance for many Christians, who continue to walk the pilgrim roads across Europe to this day. And perhaps if nothing else this story stands to remind us of the importance of the image of the pilgrim to Christian faith; and the shell that is James' symbol in art has become the symbol above all others of pilgrimage.

(Interestingly, there is an early belief recorded by Saint Jerome in the Fourth Century, that on the Day of Pentecost each of the apostles was given the language of the people he was to evangelise, James supposedly receiving Spanish … something that would be useful for many pilgrims and holiday makers today! )

In the end, though, the real message of James is the one our collect highlights, the message of obedience, and the readiness to heed the call of Christ wherever it leads. We pray that we, like James, forsaking the false attractions of the world, may be ready at all times to answer his call without delay; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.