The Death of the First Apostle
What does the church do after the death of the first Apostle? Nothing. It’s a surprising but informative reaction.
The Death of Judas (not an Apostle)
The NT does not tell us much about the death of the apostles. This is a striking feature in and of itself. After all, with both ancient and modern interests in “the gory details,” whether that be from pure historical curiosity, or a desire to laud the faith and sacrifice of the martyrs, or to have the narrative properly “wrapped up,” it is perfectly reasonable to expect a book like Acts, or some of the letters of Paul, or perhaps even Revelation to give us at least something of the fate of these faithful founders. We might expect more especially of Acts, since the concern with the apostles is in the very name of the book, and Luke does seem interested in tracking their status, decisions, activities, and movements (Acts 1:12-26). And yet Luke, and the rest of the NT Scriptures, are silent about most of them. We often learn much about divine revelation (and about ourselves) from what is not included.
When we are given information about apostolic deaths, it’s almost always in service of some more important narratival or theological point. For example, although Judas never made it to Apostolic status, Matthew does record his death, but his purpose is not narrative closure, and even less the kind of bloody moments of “poetic justice” that satisfy a human longing for vengeance; no, his intent is theological: here too we have “the fulfillment” of prophecy.
Luke also records Judas’ demise, and though his narration is more bloody, his main interest is elsewhere. For Luke the issue is redemptive-historical. This death is significant because it leaves an apostle-shaped “hole” in the heart of the witnesses gathered in the upper room (Acts 1:22). A new representative must be selected.
Acts 1:26-28: So one of the men who have accompanied us during all the time that the Lord Jesus went in and out among us, beginning from the baptism of John until the day when he was taken up from us—one of these men must become with us a witness to his resurrection.” And they put forward two, Joseph called Barsabbas, who was also called Justus, and Matthias. And they prayed and said, “You, Lord, who know the hearts of all, show which one of these two you have chosen to take the place in this ministry and apostleship from which Judas turned aside to go to his own place.” And they cast lots for them, and the lot fell on Matthias, and he was numbered with the eleven apostles.
Now the fact that the apostles feel the need for a twelfth representative (no more and no less) confirms their unique calling. There must be twelve because the whole point is the reconstitution of the twelve tribes through belief in the resurrection (and, once the Gentiles are included, a 13th will be needed). The death of Judas constitutes a tear in the redemptive-historical space-time continuum; it is a breach that must be fixed if the work of “testimony” is to continue.
The Death of James
It is interesting, then, that when the next apostle dies, there’s no such replacement ceremony.
Acts 12:1-2: About that time Herod the king laid violent hands on some who belonged to the church. He killed James the brother of John with the sword, and when he saw that it pleased the Jews, he proceeded to arrest Peter also. This was during the days of Unleavened Bread. And when he had seized him, he put him in prison, delivering him over to four squads of soldiers to guard him, intending after the Passover to bring him out to the people. So Peter was kept in prison, but earnest prayer for him was made to God by the church.
There is, in fact, very little theological or historical reflection on the death of James; it is presented almost in passing, giving context to the persecution of the church in Judea and, in particular, the arrest of Peter.
In Imitation of Christ
Despite the brevity, Luke provides a handful of redemptive-historical signposts for the reader. The simple appellation “King Herod” is one. The “Herod” in question is Agrippa I, cousin of Herod Antipas (who killed John the Baptist and conspired to kill Jesus) and the grandson of the infamous Herod the Great. The choice to present him simply as “King Herod” links the events and “establishes an interlock between Jesus and his disciples.”1 The subsequent arrest of Peter because it “pleased the Jews” reinforces that connection, reminding us of Pilate’s sycophantic appeasement of the masses.
The whole matter is a reminder of the “dark side” of Jesus’ commissioning of the apostles. “As the Father has sent me, so I am sending you” (John 20:21).2 Surely these words of Jesus, who was radiating in the glory of his resurrection, were an encouragement, but the resurrection was the reward of a life-long sacrifice culminating the obedience of death (Phil. 2:8), and that too is what it means to “share in Christ” (1 Pet. 4:13).
Jesus himself foreshadows this idea long before, and to James’ face, though it is not likely James understood the ominous premonition in his Lord’s words.
And he said to them, “What do you want me to do for you?” And they said to him, “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.” Jesus said to them, “You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or to be baptized with the baptism with which I am baptized?” And they said to him, “We are able.” And Jesus said to them, “The cup that I drink you will drink, and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized,
“As the Father sent me;” the Father sent Jesus to die; his baptism was a baptism unto death (Matt. 3:15). Will James the brother of John sit at Jesus’ right hand? Maybe, I don’t know. But he was given this honor: to die the death that Jesus died, and at the hands of the grandson of the one that so feared Him that he would become a new pharaoh, slaughtering the sons of Jewish boys lest one arise to displace him. “Take up your cross and follow me,” Jesus said (Mark 8:34). In the end James would die by the sword, beheaded rather than crucified, but his suffering is as Christological as was his call; in the end, he died as he lived, it glorious imitation of the master (John 13:16).
James is Irreplaceable
This, the first apostolic death, is therefore a redemptive-historical fulfillment, but Luke’s presentation of it is surprising, and theologically informative, in two respects. First, it is presented with remarkably little fanfare. By contrast, the martyrdom of Stephen (Acts 7), though not an apostle, is more obviously and blatantly theologized. The parity between Stephen’s death and Jesus’ is well documented. Luke’s presentation is deliberate, leaving the reader with the distinct impression that Stephen’s death is an image or pointer to Christ’s own sacrifice. Though Luke presents James with less fanfare, we are to import that theology here. It is the same “kind” of death. But the lack of fanfare is itself important; Luke does not ascribe specifically apostolic significance to the death. The fact that this is an apostolic death does not make it more significant than that of Stephen, save only that it is perhaps a reminder to the apostles themselves that their position does not make them exempt from the cruciform aspect of their calling. Quite the contrary. The apostles as “martyrs-in-chief.”3
The second surprise: nothing is done about it. With the departure of Judas there is a mad dash to get back to twelve. Here we are again down to eleven. Should not, in good Presbyterian fashion, a committee be appointed? None seems forthcoming. Perhaps that is because a new apostle has already arisen to replace the one now missing—and behold! he too is named James (Acts 12:17, 15:13, possibly 1:13; 1 Cor. 15:7)?4 This second James, the brother of Jesus, will soon be considered a “pillar” of the church (Gal. 2:9), and perhaps this moment provides a key point in his rise to prominence. Luke could certainly make that point, and this would be the place to make it, but he does not. Again the silence is informative. If Luke wanted to “institutionalize” apostolic succession, this is the key moment to do so, and the most efficient and narrativally “neat” way to do that would be to introduce James 2.0 right here. Why the lapse? One very logical explanation is that, once the full number has been acquired, no replacements are possible.
All this confirms a point made by Ridderbos in his Redemptive History and the NT Scriptures: the apostolate is a one-time thing, a redemptive-historical period that is as unique and unrepeatable as the resurrection of Jesus, or Pentecost. They are the “foundation” of the church (Eph. 2:20), and once that foundation is set, no additions can be made.
