Magyar Egyház, 1965 (44. évfolyam, 2-12. szám)
1965-12-01 / 12. szám
10 MAGYAR EGYHÁZ “But, Father,” Alexander said soothingly, “you made it easier for him, you helped him!” “What? Made it easier to be crucified? Helped him to be killed? 0, what a burden!” “But, Father,” Rufus put his hand on Simon’s arm, “Peter told you many times not to accuse yourself. This was all God’s plan. And the Lord isn’t dead. He is risen! And hasn’t it been because of your bearing his cross that you have become a Christian yourself? And mother, and „ o ?? we: Well, Simon couldn’t very well tell all this to the centurion of the guard asking what he was doing in Mary’s house. Anyhow, it was advisable to keep watch and not to become conspicuous. This was the reason why the men who left the house on that dark night slid cautiously through the door and vanished into the darkness in no time. There were four of them. One went alone — a heavy, tall, bearded man. It was Peter. King Herod had put him into prison — leaders of the followers of Jesus were constantly vexed, never left in peace. Some of them were persecuted by the Jewish mob — even stoned to death like Stephen; others by the King — it wasn’t long ago that James, the brother of John, was beheaded. And now Peter, the leader himself was arrested. But as evening came and the prison quieted down and Peter himself dozed off, he was waked by a tap on his shoulder. Peter could hardly recall the fast course of events — it was a miracle — an angel stood there, the cell ablaze with light, his chains fell and he was led out, past the sentries, through the iron gate. And nobody seemed to notice them, nobody stopped them. Peter went straight to Mary’s house. This was the place where the brethren used to gather. He was imprisoned for more than a week and he wasn’t able to send word to his friends. They must have been worried very much. He didn’t stay long in the house, just told about his miraculous escape and said he would leave the city for a while. So he left the house, before the third watch would come on. The three others were younger men — Paul, Barnabas, and John Mark, Mary’s son. They came to have a conference with James the Just and the elders about future plans of the Church. They agreed that the Gospel should be preached outside of Jerusalem and Judea as well. This was the Master’s direct command, after all! They reported that they began already such work in Antioch. It was from there they have come now back to Jerusalem. “And you know, brethren, we have a new name. We don’t know who thought it up, whether it was one from the congregation or someone from outside. Anyhow, for a while now, we are spoken of as Christians. Christians we are called. Some of our members themselves use the name — they like it. Christians — what do you think?” James the Just savored the word, repeating: “Christian . .. Christian... A nice name. The word does sound well.” Then he looked up and said in a firm voice: “But it doesn’t sound right! Christian means Christlike! Are we Christlike? We are sinners! We mustn’t call ourselves Christians; it’s wrong, it’s blasphemy!” “I pray to object, James” — it was Simon of Cyrene who spoke. “I know we are sinners. 0, how I know it. I carried the cross of my Lord .. . But didn’t he say that he came to save sinners? And you see,” Simon added after a little pause, “Christian means not only Christlike, it can also mean ‘belonging to Christ’; and don’t we all belong to him? All and with all we have, and with all we are?” And so it was settled, accepted. They would use the name from now on. Christians. James the Just insisted by adding: “But remember, the word means Christlike, too. All right, use it. But as you hear yourselves called Christians, it should always ring in your ears, you should always repeat it in your heart: ‘Lord, I want to be a Christian — Lord, I want to be like Christ!’.” As the three were cautiously proceeding towards the city gate, Barnabas found himself muttering the words to himself: “Yes, Lord, I want to be like Christ...” They heard the snapping steps of the guard on the cobblestones. “Let’s wait awhile,” whispered Paul, pulling his two companions into an alley. “And let’s not pass through the city gate either. We can wait until the guard changes; then we can find an opening on the wall. We can get through there. We shall be safe on the open road to Antioch. The guard doesn’t go outside the walls.” They squatted down in the alley. It was even darker here. It was a two-story house and its shadow covered the moon. “What a night,” sighed John Mark. “Yes, what a night!” Barnabas echoed his words. “We have a new name! Christians!” “And we can go ahead, onward. Take the Gospel of our Lord to the end of the earth. Just as the Master commanded us to do,” — it was Paul who said this, and with an eager voice. “And Peter,” Barnabas added, “I still can’t understand — how could he escape? Three posts, two iron doors!” “Well, it was a miracle. Can’t you just leave it at that? A miracle. With Jesus, there is always a miracle. Never be surprised,” Paul’s voice was firm, commanding. There was silence for a while. In the distance, words of commands sounded .. .the changing of the guard at the city gate. John Mark spoke: “You’re right, Paul. Never wonder about a miracle if it is about Jesus. Just remember what Mary was telling this evening before Peter came.” They remembered. The meeting that night was prearranged, like many previous ones. They decided some time ago that the words of the Master should be put down in writing. If they were to go out to the end of the world to take the Gospel to all nations they must prepare a book. The world is big. The disciples can stay but for a short while at one place. They can gather into a congregation, those who believe in Christ, but they must move along. They must have a book. To tell the story, to tell what Jesus had said, to have everything he had commanded so the people can observe it. They must have a book. So they decide to meet in the house of Mary and to prepare the book. The disciples would tell, one after the other, as they recalled the story, when Jesus called them. The Sermon on the Mount. The miraculous catch of fish. How Jesus taught them to pray. What he said about paying taxes. Their private talks in the evenings after all the people had gone home. The parables. The journey to Jerusalem. They told the story as it came into their minds. And they discussed the details. It was wonderful. The words would come back, not one would be missed — as if Jesus spoke to them again. It was Matthew who began to take notes first. John Mark, too. He remembered a lot, although he had been still a child when Jesus was with them. The third man who made frequent use of his stylus was a new disciple, Luke, the physician, Paul’s travel-companion.
