Contrary to what’s commonly supposed, the cathedral church of the Bishop of Rome (the Pope) isn’t St. Peter’s Basilica; it’s actually the Basilica of St. John Lateran located about three miles from
Vatican City in a different part of Rome.
The Basilica dates back to the early years of the fourth century when the Emperor Constantine himself donated the Lateran palace to Pope St. Sylvester I. Over the centuries, it’s been rebuilt after various fires and renovated on numerous other occasions. The current Basilica structure dates to the
16th century, though its façade and other architectural features were added some two hundred years later.
The 18th century additions included the statuary of the Apostles that line the central aisle of the
Basilica. The statues are immense, 23-feet tall depictions that portray the Apostles as quite literally larger-than-life figures, each striking an heroic pose and gazing into the distance as if they’re watching the centuries unfold.
That tends to be how we regard them today, the Apostles: larger-than-life figures that were maybe like us in some ways, but really not, given what we think of as their heroic and saintly faith and virtue. And that way of thinking of them is partly true. They did, in the end, turn out to be faithful, virtuous, and heroic. In the end.
But as the Gospels make clear, they hardly started out that way.
Some of the strongest evidence we have of the basic accuracy of the Gospels is what in law is called “an admission against interest.” If I’m testifying in court, for example, and I admit to things that make me look bad, that’s taken as strong evidence that the rest of my testimony is probably truthful.
Who lies to make themself look bad? In their depictions of the Apostles prior to Jesus’ resurrection, the
Gospels largely present the Apostles as uncomprehending, petty, vain, impetuous, often uncharitable in trying to keep people away from Jesus … in general, not a terribly impressive lot. Bear in mind that the
Four Gospels got to be the Four Gospels of the New Testament in no small measure because each was prevalent in an important church of the first century associated with one of the Apostles, and you have what’s in effect their own admissions against interest. If the Gospels aren’t essentially accurate, why would they want to make themselves look, well, not so great?
However, if the Apostles didn’t start out as anyone’s idea of a dream team, they did, in fact, end up in much the manner that they’re depicted at St. John Lateran: faithful, virtuous, heroic. What changed?
The Readings in the Easter season help us to understand what changed. What changed was their encounter with the Risen Christ. What changes them is their profound experience of Christ’s love and forgiveness – even after all but one of them had abandoned Him to a grisly death. (We often think of Judas as the Apostle who betrayed Jesus. It’s more accurate to think of John as the only one who didn’t; the rest of them did, right along with Judas.) Only then, only when, as John tells us, Christ breathed on them and said to each of them, “Peace be with you,” did they begin to fully understand what they’d witnessed as they travelled with Jesus through the Galilee and Judea. Only then, did they begin to understand who Jesus was and is, and only then did they begin to understand who they were, too.
Only then were they ready to carry Christ’s love and mercy, forgiveness and reconciliation, to all the world. Christ had changed them from what they’d been to what they became, and they in turn would change the world. That’s what the love of Christ does: it changes those who receive it, and it changes others to whom they pass it along.
That’s one of the reasons why the resurrection to which the Easter season calls us isn’t a matter simply of the next life. It’s a matter of this one. It’s a matter of new life for us here and now, and it’s a matter of bringing the offer of new life to others by planting the seeds of charity and forgiveness whenever and wherever we have the chance. It’s not likely that anyone will erect a statue of us for doing so, but it’s just possible that someone’s heart will grow a little bigger and softer if we do, and it’s a sure bet that ours will.