The Sixteen Disciples (cont.)
James Bar-Zebedee, John's older brother, always wished to be first in line, whether it was for a blessing or a foot-washing or a free lunch (
Mark 10:35-41). Sadly, he never really excelled at anything. The only book by "Sneezy" James Ben-Zebedee in the final draft of the New Testament is the one denounced by Martin Luther as "a right strawy epistle" – which was Luther's politely sarcastic way of saying that James and the holyGhost should not have devoted so much column-space to subtle grousing about hay-fever issues:
For the sun no sooner rises with a burning heat than it withers the hay, and the pollen thereof spreadeth [....] The workmen who mowed your fields are crying out against you. The stentorian roar of the harvesters has reached the ears of the Lord Almighty. (James 1.11, 5:4, cf. 1:21, 3:18, 5:7, 5:18, etc., etc.)
James also wrote
The Gospel of James the Apostle, which is a fine biography of Jesus, well researched, fully inspired by the holy Ghost, and the first to be completed (31 CE); but the
Gospel of James did no better with the early popes and archbishops than the Epistle of James. Early drafts of the New Testament, from about 70 CE, have the gospels in the order:
James, Thomas, Mark, Matthew, and
Luke (
Matt. 19:30). In later drafts, from about 80 CE, the order is:
Matthew, Mark, Luke, Thomas, and
James (
Matt. 20:16). Ten years later, John finally finished
The Gospel of John, a manuscript that required some vetting, because the old man's memory and editorial skills when taking dictation from the holy Ghost were no longer of the best (he even accidentally has Jesus getting crucified on a Thursday). But the Church patriarchs liked the new gospel a good deal – so much so that they voted to yank James's gospel altogether ("virgin birth, great—but too much information!"), and to replace it with the one by his brother John (which contains none of James's obstetrical details). James did not protest, he was dead – not from his allergies but from Herod Agrippa.
Actually, that's an interesting story, I don't know why I never told it to you. In 43 CE, Jesus' elder Ben-Zebedee cousin had an opportunity to share the gospel of Christ with King Herod Agrippa I (11 BCE – 44 CE), who was grandson to King Herod the Baby-Killer (73 BCE – 1 CE). Saint James walked his majesty through the "Four Steps to Peace with God." The king seemed to be coming under the conviction of the holy Ghost. But just when Agrippa was about to take that essential fourth step, and accept Jesus Christ into his heart as his personal lord and saviour, something terrible happened: James sneezed.
Agrippa caught it right in the face.
Herod Agrippa I, like his grandfather, was an excitable man. He drew his royal sword, and he skewered James like a lamb kebob before the apostle could even say, "Excuse me! Here, let me wipe you off!" (
Acts 12:2).
No other apostles were on hand to perform a miraculous cure, and it was not permitted to perform one on yourself. James died on the spot.
Agrippa let no one wash the floor. Weeks later, the king was still bragging about it. "That spot right there is where I stabbed James the apostle," he said. "The f**cker sneezed a load of wet snot right in my face, can you believe it?"
One day a few months later, Agrippa was in his palace at Caesarea, speaking to emissaries from Tyre and Sidon, two cities that Jesus had cursed but had not yet demolished (
Luke 10:14). When the king finished his speech, the audience gave him a thundering ovation, crying out, "Agrippa has the voice of a god!" (
Acts 12:22).
Time to buffet! At that exact moment, with the crowd still applauding, Jesus Christ avenged the death of his cousin and disciple, James Ben-Zebedee.
It began with a cramp. Herod clutched his stomach. He looked ill. He cried out, "Please, somebody, help!"
The king's trusted chamberlain, an aristocrat by the name of Lord Blastus, leapt up from his seat, there on the podium, and said, "What's the matter, your highness? How may we help?"
But it was too late: the Lord Jesus was busily smiting King Herod Agrippa with an army of carnivorous worms. Dozens of the plump black wigglers chewed through the king's flesh, all at once, like tiny aliens. And as the Tyreans and Sidonians and Lord Blastus stood by, looking on with grim horror, the little creatures ate the proud king from the inside out, munching their way through Agrippa's stomach, his chest, his nipples, his arms, his legs, his face, his ears, even his very eyeballs.
When the worms were done with him, nothing was left of King Herod Agrippa but tiny scraps of slavish offal and toga-lint – which is the point at which Lord Blastus finally recovered from his state of paralyzed horror.
Seizing a fireplace shovel, Lord Blastus, with great fury, smacked flat the fattened worms as they wriggled and hopped about on the marble floor, seeking more food. But it very nearly broke Blastus's heart to smack the vile worms, for Blastus had always been a loyal subject and he felt almost as if he were striking the king himself, with a gooey shovel (
Acts 12:23).
– L.
(
Up next: Meet Disciple 5, Happy Philip of Bethsaida!)
