User:John bar Zebedee

I am John (Jonah), son of Zebedee and Salome, brother of James (Jacob bar Zebedee, not to be confused with James bar Joseph, the first bishop of Jerusalem). I am referred to as the Evangelist, the Beloved Apostle, and the Disciple that Jesus loved. Actually, Jesus loved everyone, but I took that title for myself when, at the age of 90 something (I actually stopped counting at 30 something), they asked me to put down everything I could remember about my life with Jesus and to not just copy John Mark's version like Matthew (not the tax collector, Levi, but someone that wrote it under his name, a common literary device similar to this epistle) and Luke (the Macedonian doctor who also wrote the Acts of the Apostles, even though he wasn't one, himself. His sources included Paul, John Mark and Peter. He also met Mary and wrote her icons, i.e. painted her portraits, one of which is in Poland and another in Russia.  It was there that Mary told him of the events referred to as our Lord's nativity, including her encounter with the angel and her visit to Elizabeth, mother of the Baptist).

After the Lord's death, resurrection and ascension from the Mount of Olives, I had to take Mary (who was the sister of my mother) to Ephesus because it was not safe for her to stay in Judea or anywhere near Jerusalem. The risen Lord himself told me where to go and other things that happened after they took him from the garden to go before the Sanhedrim, Pilate, Herod Antipas, and then Pilate again. It seemed as if I spent more time conversing with him after his death and resurrection than in the whole three years I spent with him before his arrest. He told me not to feel bad about not getting him water to quench his thirst on the cross when I had the chance. He understood how awestruck and fearful I was being the only follower there other than Mary and the women. He said he could hear Peter denying him three times before the cock crowed to bring in the morning. The Saturday I spent with Peter was the longest day of my life. He was beside himself with grief at his denials.

Mary and I came back to Judea for the meeting to decide about the converted Gentiles and it was my cousin James (not to be confused with my brother James) who arrived at a compromise that did not require circumcision for them to follow the Way, as we then called it. At Antioch, followers of the Way eventually were called "Christians", but by that time, they were mostly Greek with only a few Jews who decided to give up trying to follow the Torah while living among the new found followers who had no idea what they would have to do had we not just restricted it to a few simple requirements like not participating in sacrifices to Greek or Roman gods or even eating meat from animals that had been strangled and used for such sacrifices (such as the initiation rite of Mithras).

I am also referred to as John of Patmos, from the time when I was exiled when I went back to Ephesus (This was after the death of Mary which happened when we went back to Jerusalem for that meeting I was talking about). Paul had gotten into trouble with the craftsmen making idols of the fertility goddess at the Temple of Artemis leading to a clamping down on the Jews and God fearers (converts) who opposed idol worship of any kind.

It was at Patmos that I had the vision which I thought was about something that was going to occur imminently, but maybe, in his way of measuring time, it is still imminent. There is just so much to my story and no one in your age seems to have the time to sit down and read the scriptures or history or anything that does not directly affect them here and now (which in the long run is neither here nor there).

As Jesus said to me "Your work is to believe", I would say the same to you. Believe, and then you will have time to do everything else. If you don't believe, then read as much as you need to in order to form your own opinion. Don't just say that you don't believe any of that stuff, or worse still, that you believe but that you don't care. My God! That is apathy and ingratitude at its very worst.