Return to Table of Contents/Writer’s Den

 

Chapter Forty-Seven

 

Return To Capernaum: The Ecclesia

 

 

 

The multitude, which, after continued defections, was still significant, but much less than three thousand, must have resembled the rag-tag bunch led by Moses out of Egypt.  Peter even had a staff presented to him by Sosthenes, the Greek-speaking Jew, who had led them to Bethany: a strange-looking length of wood carved from myrtle with the head of a ram at one end.  Strutting forth, with staff in hand, waving his free hand in the air as he shared a sudden thought, he looked every bit the patriarch at this stage in his career.  The remaining eleven apostles, indistinguishable from the disciples and the least member of the procession, had been relegated to mere followers.  I had to remind the others what Jesus had once told John and his brother James, ‘the last shall be first in his kingdom,’ and Jesus example of humility when he washed our feet.  These words, however, weren’t enough to satisfy Andrew, who had never seen his brother so puffed up and arrogant.  John, who felt Jesus had singled him out, was especially at odds with Peter’s attitude.  I knew that Peter’s apparent posturing was more than mere bombast.  He believed, with good reason, after yesterday’s good fortune or miracles that Jesus, as always, was with him.  He had been given the staff of the shepherd, and Peter planned on using his prestige for Christ and the Way. 

Before we left Bethany, I said goodbye to Micah, once again leaving him in Ashira’s care.   Had it not been for the leash she fashioned for him, he would have broken free and followed us.  Understandably this time, Lazarus and his sisters were not as sad as Micah to see us leave.  Except for the smile my friend Martha gave me, the threesome gave us a cold send-off.   For that matter, not one resident of the town came out to say farewell.

Our trek back to Capernaum was interrupted by frequent stops, some of which saw the departure of more converts, but defections had decreased greatly when the multitude was fed and given enough rest.  Fortunately for us, there was no more rain.  The food we brought with us had to be rationed out, which, given human nature, was no easy task.  During such times, the few criminals and miscreants in our midst would be found out and cast off, one man being given a drubbing with Peter’s staff.  Other than these exceptions, the new converts managed, with the addition of more food and moral support from townsfolk on the way, to arrive in Capernaum no worse for the wear.  There had been no deaths, births, or mutinies during our journey.  Meeting us on the outskirts of Capernaum, were members of the original Seventy, who rejoiced upon hearing of Azariah and Yoshabel’s elevation to shepherd and shepherdess.  I’m not sure if Peter was totally serious about their titles.  Like many Jewish men, he saw no place for women in positions of importance.  Surely, he, as the chief shepherd, would be the leader in his town. 

At first, in fact, there was little or no organization in the community of believers.  Peter turned over the issue of lodging to Azariah and his wife, a much easer task, because of his influence.  All of the men, women, and children found families to take them in, except Sosthenes and his wife, who would be crammed into Peter’s house with his inner circle.

The inner circle now included both men and women: the apostles, the disciples, Susanna, Joanna, Mark’s mother, Peter’s family, and Mary Magdalene, who was in the welcoming party as we entered the town.  Until Peter retrieved their house from Ezekiel, Azariah and Yoshabel would also live with his family.  This living arrangement, which included Mary Magdalene, was worse than it was for even the converts, who at least were spread out in the town.  Joanna, now a fugitive from Chuza, her husband, who had been furious at her conversion to the Way, proved at the very beginning of our stay, to be a great help to Esther, Dinah, and Bernice, as did Mark’s mother and Susanna.  Mary Magdalene, however, Esther informed her husband, spent much of her time daydreaming instead of lending a hand.  Earlier, Mary had been coaxed by Peter into returning to Capernaum.  It was a sore point for her now after she heard of the wonders she had missed.  Except for her, the other women and the men complained very little about the living conditions.  Thomas, as expected, was the greatest complainer in our group.  Though he would one day set out bravely on his mission, it seemed he would always be a doubter, as well as grumbler.  None of Jesus’ original men, in fact, had changed that much.  Bartholomew, who still had his mule and a new cart, would always be a burden on our journeys.  He would remain one of my chief responsibilities until the apostles were given their orders.  Matthew, always ready with an unasked for opinion and Simon, still the hothead, never really fit in.  Despite this fact, they gave up their careers, as did James, to follow our Lord.  With the exception of Peter, who was the peacemaker as well voice of authority, the fishermen were still somewhat stand-offish from the rest of us.  Andrew, Philip, and John’s brother James would always be rustics at heart and John?… What can I say about John?

Gradually, the community of believers, which was called the Way by many of us but Ecclesia by Greek-speaking Jews, settled into a routine decided by Peter, who believed, as did Jesus, that we must earn our keep.  This requirement that accompanied daily prayer and fellowship, included assisting in farm duties, herding of sheep, curing the fishermen’s catch, clearing out the hosts’ gardens, painting and repair of houses, and even—for the women housed in other homes—tending to their benefactor’s children when the need arose.  In that first year as the ecclesia became known throughout Judea, Galilee, and Perea, the success of our community attracted more believers from other cities, but for several months, we remained a loosely organized group depending on the goodwill and hospitality of Capernaum.  In spite of the animosity of the great majority of Jews, our small congregation had survived and continued to grow, earning its keep among householders, as Capernaum and its citizens became more and more associated with the Way.

 

******

Our move to Capernaum gave Peter even more power.  Housing our members in the homes of Capernaum’s citizens was no longer sufficient or efficient and, as our numbers began to grow, the lodging of so many believers in various homes was a great burden on the town.  Peter believed that Jesus wanted one unified group: a sanctuary and supportive ecclesia for believers that took care of both their spiritual and human needs.  To accomplish this, he explained to his inner circle, we needed a structure similar in function to the synagogue and a building for members to live in apart from the world.  So as not to imitate in any way the old religion, however, this building would be a simple place of worship.  Beside it several houses for our members, grouped together with gardens, would be built by carpenters and masons in the ecclesia.  Though it was true the ecclesia was a religious center for the propagation of our faith, and the new houses would give living quarters to most of our members, the complex would also be a refuge for the poor, and a shelter for all manner of people, including beggars, miscreants, and women of ill repute.  A troubling pattern, difficult to stop, developed, where undesirables, mingling with legitimate converts, accepted the rites to join the ecclesia simply for free handouts and a roof over their heads.  Guided by Jesus compassion for the poor and downtrodden, Peter believed, if cleaned up and given proper instruction, this group would turn into model members.  Jesus had stressed the need to feed the poor and how important they were in our mission, but he expected those saved to repent and change their ways.  In addition to being a place of fellowship and a safe haven for true believers as well a opportunists, its purpose was to protect converts from the corruption of the world and, once they began living within the community, control their every movement.  When people joined the ecclesia they had to reject their previous lives, even their families if their wives, husbands, or parents chose the old faith.

All of Peter’s grand plans required the greatest sacrifice.  One of the requirements for being a member of our community was sharing wealth, which meant that members were expected to turn over their coins, property and goods to Peter for the welfare of all.  While all earthly items were sold after being turned over, money given to the shepherd went straight into our treasury, the community’s purse.  In this way, our ecclesia was able to feed and shelter our members.  The remaining requirements of his proclamation, as a series of oaths and pledges, essentially told members they must give up their old ways and accept Peter’s interpretation of the Way.  From a loosely organized group living throughout Capernaum and neighboring communities, we had become, what Peter fancied as the ‘Community of the Way,’ with a common faith.  So overwhelming and, in many ways, unreasonable, was the demands to give up so much, however, many converts turned away after reading the proclamation written by John. 

In Peter’s mind, through revelations, to be apart of the community one had to turn their backs on the sins of the world, give up worldly things, and place all their energies and attention on the welfare of all.  When born the first time from the womb, you came naked into the world. When reborn into the faith, you continued naked of worldliness, a new being, clothed by the Spirit of the Lord.  We, the apostles, who had already given up everything to follow Jesus, never thought much about any of this.  We took our roles for granted and would never have had such abstract thoughts.  John, a clever fellow with words, had given Peter some of his ideas, but he, like us, was disturbed by some of Peter’s demands.  Many of the friends we had made in Judea, Galilee, and Perea were good people and yet they would be considered worldly by the community’s standards.  There were several notable rich men, like Nicodemus, who appeared to be followers too.  Many converts, in fact, had returned to Jerusalem and other cities to practice the new faith without censor.  When the ecclesia became the Community of the Way, however, the requirements to be a member became much more strict.  All peoples, from the poorest idler to rich merchants and prosperous farmers, must give it all; there were no exceptions.  And yet, despite the great demands of the ecclesia, the majority of its members were steadfast in their belief.  Against the odds, with the Lord’s help, it proved to be a tremendous success. 

Only one incident marred this success in my mind.  As usual, Peter had followed the Lord’s will, but I still find this action difficult to accept.  This time the information I report is second-hand.  Though I had witnessed and overheard the previous words and actions of the Shepherd, the following account was related to me by Mark, who, as Peter’s scribe now, was nearby when it occurred. 

John had grown weary of Peter’s bossiness and decided to go fishing with his brother James.  Andrew and Philip had joined them in the boat, while the rest of us, after working in Esther’s garden, lounged idly by the shore.  Because Mark became one of Peter’s disciples, the notes he wrote down never became part of his gospel.  Peter would have known he was spying on him.  After the shepherd met the Lord, I gave Luke the notes, which he incorporated in his Acts of the Apostles.  Mark had no thought of capitalizing on the event.  It shook him greatly.  Matthew, Simon, Thomas, Bartholomew, and I, however, heard the commotion in front of the ecclesia from a distance and paid it no mind.  Peter was always shouting—barking out orders or scolding someone for a minor offense.  After overhearing Peter question a couple in our community, Mark wrote down what had happened and ran immediately to the lake to share it with us.  This wasn’t a minor offense, as were the other incidents in our community.

From Mark’s hastily written notes, I extracted the following account, which is close to what I recently read in Luke’s work:

Peter was questioning Ananias and his wife Sapphira when Mark’s ears perked up.  Ducking behind a tree, as Peter stopped them near the ecclesia, he reached into his pouch for his writing materials.  It appeared as though Ananias and Sapphira, who were supposed to have turned over their wealth, were holding back from the community.  They had sold their property, as they agreed to do, but had kept some of the money for themselves.  It didn’t matter that they gave almost all of the profit to Peter.  They didn’t give it all.

As Mark reported, Peter pointed accusingly at Ananias that moment and roared, “Ananias!  How is it that Satan caused you to lie to the Lord and kept some of the proceeds from your land?  What made you think of doing such a thing?  You’ve not only lied to me, you’ve lied to God!”

Whether or not the Lord struck Ananias dead or Peter had scared him to death, Ananias fell dead in his tracks.  By now, some of the members had been drawn from the ecclesia, arriving just in time to see Ananias twitching on the ground.  With dispatch, Peter ordered them to take him away and bury him.  Fearful because of the look on Peter’s face, the men and women, without protests, carried Ananias away.  Unaware of the seriousness of this affair, as Mark sat in Peter’s house, remaining mum in front of Peter’s wife, mother-in-law, and daughter, we walked further down the shore, watching the fishermen cast their nets. 

After an hour or so, as Mark explained, disturbed and fearful by Peter’s action, he slipped out of Peter’s house, retracing his steps back toward the ecclesia.  This time at the door of the living quarters, Peter cornered Ananias’s wife.  Mark again read from his notes this conversation with a trembling voice:

“Where’s my husband?” Sapphira asked.

“Being prepared for his burial,” Peter answered coldly.

“Why?” she screamed. “What happened to him?”

“He cheated the Lord,” replied Peter, holding up a balance sheet. “Tell me, Sapphira, is this the price you and your husband got for your land?”

“Yes,” she answered shakily, “that’s the price.”

It struck me as ludicrous that Peter, who relied on John’s accounting, was flaunting such figures.  John, who had been with the other fishermen, would have wanted nothing to do with this interrogation.  Once again, as Mark reported, as he stood in plain view, several men and women ran to the scene. 

“Sapphira!” Peter bellowed. “How could you test the Lord?  Listen, do you hear footfall?   The feet of those who buried your husband are at the door, and they are going to bury you too!”

To Mark’s renewed horror, Sapphira fell dead on the ground.  The same members, who had carried Ananias away arrived, carried her out and buried her beside her husband. Those very moments Mark reported these terrible events, we heard voices throughout the community.  Great fear for the wrath or God and the wrath of Peter seized the ecclesia.  Peter had struck Ananias and Sapphira dead because of their greed.  Matthew, Simon, Bartholomew, Thomas and I, who heard this personal account, were the first to know the details of this showdown.  Even now, in my old age, it sends a quiver up my spine.

 

******

After that day in Capernaum in which behavior common among many believers in Judea, Galilee, Perea, and Decapolis caused two foolish people to be struck dead, Peter justified his actions brusquely, giving the Lord credit for their deaths.  Ananias and Sapphira had been only modestly wealthy and were struck dead.  By the standards expected of this unfortunate couple, Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea, men who Jesus had respected and admired, would have been struck dead ten times over.  Jesus once explained to Peter and the rest of us that it wasn’t riches themselves that corrupted men, but the love of riches.  One could not serve two masters—the Lord and mammon, he explained.  For you will either hate the one and love the other or hold to one and despise the other.  Nevertheless, Jesus had counseled us to be patient with sinners.  That day when the young rich man refused to give up his wealth to follow him, Jesus looked at him with great pity, exclaiming that it was easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than a rich man to go to heaven.  He would never have did as Peter had done, however.  Otherwise, many of rich followers like Nicodemus would have been struck dead.  Either Peter hadn’t gotten this point or, in accordance with one of his revelations, Jesus had changed his mind.  Nevertheless, as dreadful as it was, a singular point had been made.  After what happened to Ananias and Sapphira, no one dared argue with Peter on this matter.  In fact, from that day forward, there were no more people holding back on their donations and those who found Peter’s rule to harsh slipped away from the ecclesia never to be heard from again. 

Our community, which had attracted initiates throughout Galilee, Judea, Perea, and Decapolis, remained relatively small but stable, and yet the living quarters were filled to the brim.  Until another building was constructed, the outreach to new converts was therefore halted. There wasn’t any more room as it was.  So, satisfied with the ecclesia in Capernaum and convinced he had done all he could personally do, Peter turned the leadership over to Azariah and his wife Yoshabel, and, for the last night in his house, gathered the apostles and disciples together in one group to give them their final instructions.  The question we had asked in the upper room, “What comes next?” would finally be answered.

For a few moment as we sipped the wine Bernice had poured for us, Peter savored the resinous fluid, smacking his lips, then taking another longer swig.  Suddenly, after months and months of being our taskmaster and a virtual ruler in Capernaum, the old Peter was back.  Already, he appeared to be tipsy.  Heaving a sigh, he looked around at us. “The Lord wants us in Jerusalem,” he replied solemnly.

There was a delayed reaction as this sank into our minds.

“What?” Simon cried. “Are you insane?  It’s bad enough we left poor James there, but he’s only one.  If we all converge on Jerusalem, it’ll bring back old wounds.  Caiaphas might sick his men on us again!”

“Yes, Peter,” Andrew looked at him in disbelief. “I thought we were getting our assignments.  Weren’t we going to go out and preach the word?”

“Barnabas, who visited Jerusalem recently, brought me a report,” Peter began, taking another sip. “…. James has had some success with bringing back slackers.  He’s made several more disciples and turned the upper room into an ecclesia, but that room is small.  Only a small, brave few actually attend their meetings.  The others, who broke with the three thousand have nowhere else to go.  In short, my brothers, they’re lost sheep.  We must help James, who has hands full holding onto his circle of believers.  Jerusalem is still sacred to us.  It’s where it all began!”

“This is madness,” Philip grumbled. “Jerusalem is filled with priests, Pharisees, and scribes.  Until Caiaphas and Pilate are dead or gone, let’s steer clear of it.  James should never have been left there in the first place.  If Barnabas is so bold, send him back with a message for James to get out!”

Everyone, except Peter and Barnabas, nodded their heads in agreement.

“You think I want to go there?” Peter exclaimed irritably. “This is Jesus talking, not me.”

“Oh, he’s in your head again?” Simon sneered. “Will he protect us from losing ours!

“Yes!” Peter frowned. “We must obey him.  When we’re done tending the sheep, we’ll leave, return to Bethany, and map out our routes.”

“This isn’t a good idea,” Thomas groaned. “We were lucky last time.  Now that the ecclesia has grown, Caiaphas will be ready for us.  He’ll want our blood!”

“Nonsense!” Peter socked his fist. “The last time we were in Jerusalem nothing happened.  The priests left us alone.  The Romans soldiers smiled at us.  You men have grown soft here in Capernaum.  You’re afraid to leave!”

“Soft?  Afraid to leave?” I stepped in. “What we have gone through here in Capernaum was anything but soft.  We’re not afraid to leave this town, Peter.  I’m certainly not.  I can’t wait to begin my ministry and leave this town in the dust.”

“That settles it!” Matthew said, as if we were a consensus, “let’s take a vote!”

“I vote no!” Bartholomew jumped in.

“That goes for me!” John agreed.

“Me too!” His brother agreed.

“I’m not going back there,” Barnabas said resolutely. “I vote no, too!”

Matthias, Cleopas, Justus, Jonas, and Mark added their votes to the tally.  The remainder of the apostles also voted no.  A mutiny had commenced.  Peter, who was on the way to becoming drunk, had temporarily lost control.  Now that he had apparently set aside shepherd’s staff and become the first among equals as Jesus intended him to be, the room was filled with dissent.  Then, as if a cold pale of water had been thrown in his face to wake him up, Peter’s eyebrows shot up, his mouth dropped, and roared, “Who do you people think you are?  I don’t want to go back to Jerusalem.  I didn’t want Ananias and his wife to be struck dead.  I do as the Lord commands!”

“You knew Jesus,” I challenged his logic. “Ananias and Sapphira didn’t deserve to die. They’re no different than other fair-weather followers.  They were simply greedy.  Jesus wouldn’t strike them dead for that!”

“Jude,” Peter shook his head, “I don’t disagree with you: Jesus, the man, was gentle and kind—a man of peace, but I’m not talking about Jesus, the man.  I thought you understood what we have now.  It’s no longer merely God and the Holy Spirit.  There are three parts of God.  Your brother James called this the Godhead: God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit.  Jesus, the Christ, told us he would return.  He won’t come back as Isaiah’s suffering servant next time; he will come back a warrior, smiting the unbelievers and sinners, not merely restoring Israel as the prophets promised but establishing his kingdom on earth.  There can be no fair-weather believers like Ananias and Sapphira in our ecclesia, who aren’t fully committed.  This is a time of growth and enlightenment.” “All of you,” his voice raised a notch, “this is important.  Don’t try to figure this out.  You’ll never understand the Lord’s purpose.  Why did God destroy Sodom and Gomorrah?  There was surely young children destroyed in those cities, who were by definition innocent.  What about all those innocent beasts?  What wrong did they do?  At times God appears to be pitiless.  He ordered the Israelites to slaughter men, women, and children in Canaanite cities so they could take over their land.  Was that fair? You ask.  Seen another way, God isn’t merely unfair, he’s unpredictable.  One moment, he’s striking someone dead and another He appears to be turning his back.  Why does He allow evil to exist alongside of good?  Many times, I learned from James our scholar, God allowed our people to be persecuted by the Egyptians, Assyrians, Persians, Greeks, and now the Romans, making it seem as if Satan, not God, rules.  Instead of just swooping down and changing this evil world, He sent his son down to be crucified like a common criminal on a cross to make this change.  We now understand what his death and resurrection meant.  His death replaced the temple sacrifice, which has failed our people, with the promise of eternal life—something the priests never believed in and the Pharisees and rabbis were unable to define.  That people are saved by the blood of Christ is what most of them understand, but not much more.  Many of our members can scarcely comprehend the Godhead, let alone the meaning of this sacrifice.  John, the Baptist, called him the Lamb of God, who would take away the sins of the world, and yet even he sent a messenger from his cell to make sure who Jesus was.  Though Jesus simplified the faith of our people, he has made God much more complex.  It’s going to take awhile to make believers understand his three forms.  So, after much greater examples of God’s wrath, you ask why Ananias and Sapphira were struck dead.  Don’t ask me, ask God.  Better yet, ask Jesus, His son.  Added to confusion is the Holy Spirit we all experienced.  If you, my brothers, are asking questions, can you imagine how confused the converts are?  We’ve always known that God is inscrutable; no one knows his mind.  Well, Jesus is part of the Godhead, as James called it.  If God is mysterious, it follows that Jesus is inscrutable, too.  He’s no longer the Lamb; He’s God, whom we shouldn’t question.  When He returns, he’ll come in glory, not as a humble preacher, expecting we, his apostles and disciples, to have been obedient and steadfast in the faith.” “Remember my brothers.” He looked at each of us. “Jesus told us that we don’t know the day or hour.  Not even the angels in heaven know when He’ll return…. When he does, you must be pure of heart and mind.  He wants us to be perfect.  Don’t be caught imperfect, filled with questions and doubts!”

Expecting more disagreement from some of us, his stern expression softened to a smile, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction, when no one spoke.  Peter had, as quickly as he lost it, regained control.  Andrew and Philip reached over to slap his shoulders.  John and his brother James gave him a begrudging nod, and Mark, who had been afraid of Peter, broke into a beaming smile.  Though Matthew, Simon, Thomas, Bartholomew, and the disciples joined the fishermen in their silent acceptance, I was slower to respond.  Jesus had made him the Rock and our leader.  He gave him the power of life over death.  I didn’t have to like it, but I must bow to His will.

 

******

Our trek to Jerusalem began as a solemn affair.  For this undertaking Peter insisted that the women stay home.  There was, he rationalized, no reason for them to come along.  I knew, of course, it was more than this.  It was simply too dangerous for them to be in our company, and, in Peter’s mind, women weren’t suited to preach.  Our people, especially conservative Jews, would resent them speaking out, and, with the exception of Matthew, Simon, Bartholomew, Mark, and myself, the apostles and disciples resented the women’s presence as well.  Mary Magdalene and Susanna, both spirited souls, were offended by this slight, whereas Joanna and Mark’s mother seemed quite relieved.  Before we departed, Peter tried to cool off Mary Magdalene and Susanna’s resentment, reminding them of the importance of their service taking care the community, but the two women wouldn’t speak to him.  In what might be seen as a mutiny, the women, including Joanna and Mark’s mother (even though they hadn’t wanted to go) were reluctant even to see us off.   Peter’s words had appeared to slight them too.  If based upon our holy scriptures, Mary Magdalene correctly saw Peter’s attitude as unfair.  Deborah was a great judge of Israel, Huldah was a prophetess of Judah, and both Ruth and Esther, required their own separate scrolls.  There were countless Hebrew women in our holy scrolls who had done great deeds.  All Mary Magdalene and Susanna wanted to do was preach!  Esther, Dinah, and Bernice had listened to Mary’s argument against this state of affairs, scoffing at her foolishness.  Considering the fact that they were Peter’s family, however, they didn’t count.

Seeing us off on our mission to Jerusalem were Azariah, his wife Yoshabel, and hundreds of well-wishing converts lining the road.  It was difficult not to envy this crowd, safely tucked away in this small Galilean town.  As I looked back, I tried not to think of Mary Magdalene in a romantic sense, but it was no use.  She would haunt me constantly, teasing my manhood, making me wish at times that I was an ordinary man, with a wife and family and a quiet life ahead…. But I wasn’t an ordinary man.  I was Jude, brother of the risen Christ, a member of his inner circle, and apostle of the Lord.   Blessed though I was, I was cursed for ever joining the Twelve.  Those moments, from a distance, watching us leave, stood the four women of our circle.  Joanna and Mark’s mother waved finally as did Susanna, but Mary stood her ground, resentment burning in her eyes.  Someday she would become, as Susanna, a firebrand for the Lord, but right now, with the sunlight on her tanned face and hair blowing in the breeze, she was simply Mary Magdalene, the loveliest women I had ever known.

 

 

Next Chapter/ Return to Table of Contents/Writer’s Den