Respecting the close of his life, _all antiquity_ is agreed that it was
not terminated by martyrdom, nor by any violent death whatever, but by
a calm and peaceful departure in the course of nature, at a very great
age. The precise number of years to which he attained can not be known,
because no writer who lived within five hundred years of his time has
pretended to specify his exact age. It is merely mentioned on very
respectable ancient authority, that he survived to the beginning of the
reign of Trajan. This noblest of the successors of Julius, began his
splendid reign in A. D. 98, according to the most approved chronology;
so that if John did not outlive even the first year of Trajan, his
death is brought very near the close of the first century; and from
what has been reasonably conjectured about his age, compared with that
of his Lord, it may be supposed that he attained upwards of eighty
years,――a supposition which agrees well enough with the statement of
some of the Fathers, that he died worn out with old age.
Jerome has a great deal to say also, about the age of John at
the time when he was called, arguing that he must have been a
mere boy at the time, because tradition asserts that he lived
till the reign of Trajan. Lampe very justly objects, however,
that this proof amounts to nothing, if we accept another common
tradition, that he lived to the age of 100 years; which, if we
count back a century from the reign of Trajan, would require
him to have attained mature age at the time of the call. Neither
tradition however, is worth much. Our old friend Baronius, too,
comes in to enlighten the investigation of John’s age, by what
he considers indubitable evidence. He says that John was in his
twenty-second year when he was called, and passing three years
with Christ, must have been twenty-five years old at the time
of the crucifixion; “_because_,” says the sagacious Baronius,
“he was then initiated into the priesthood.” An assertion which
Lampe with indignant surprise stigmatizes as showing “remarkable
boldness,” (insignis audacia,) because it contains two very
gross errors,――first in pretending that John was ever made a
priest, (sacerdos,) and secondly in confounding the age required
of the Levites with that of the priests when initiated. For
Baronius’s argument resting wholly on the very strange and
unfounded notion, that John was made a priest, is furthermore
supported on the idea that the prescribed age for entering
the priesthood was twenty-five years; but in reality, the age
thus required was _thirty_ years, so that if the other part
of this idle story was true, this would be enough to overthrow
the conclusion. Lampe also alludes to the absurd idea of the
painters, in representing John as a young man, even while
writing his gospel; while in reality all writers agree that
that work was written by him in his old age. This idea of
his perpetual youth, once led into a blunder some foolish
Benedictine monks, who found in Constantinople an antique
agate intaglio, representing a young man with a cornucopia,
and an eagle, and with a figure of victory placing a crown
on his head. This struck their monkish fancies at once, as
an unquestionable portrait of John, sent to their hands by a
miraculous preservation. Examination however, has shown it to
be a representation of the apotheosis of Germanicus.
But even here, the monkish inventors have found room for new fables;
and though the great weight of all ancient testimony deprives them
of the opportunity to enter into the horrible details of a bloody and
agonizing death, they can not refuse themselves the pleasure of some
tedious absurdities, about the manner of his death and burial, which
are barely worth a partial sketch, to show how determined the apostolic
novelists are to follow their heroes to the very last, with the glories
of a fancifully miraculous departure.
The circumstances of his death are described in the martyrologies, and
by Abdias, in this manner. He had a vision acquainting him with his
approaching exit, five days before it happened. On a Lord’s-day morning,
he went to the great church at Ephesus, bearing his name, and there
performed public worship as usual, at day-break. About the middle of
the forenoon, he ordered a deacon, and some grave diggers, with their
tools, to accompany him to the burying ground. He then set them to
digging his grave, while he, after ordering the multitude to depart,
spent the time in prayer. He once looked into the grave, and bid them
dig it deeper. When it was finished, he took off his outer garment,
and spread it in the grave. Then, standing over it, he made a speech
to those present, (which is not worth repeating,) then gave thanks to
God for the arrival of the time of his release,――and placing himself
in the grave, and wrapping himself up, he instantly expired. The grave
was filled up; and afterwards miracles took place at it, and a kind of
manna issued from it, which possessed great virtues.
There is no need, however, of such fables, to crown with the false
honors of a vain prodigy, the calmly glorious end of the “Last of the
Apostles.” It is enough for the Christian to know, that, with the long,
bright course of almost a century behind him, and with the mighty works
of his later years around him, John closed the solemn apostolic drama,
bearing with him in his late departure the last light of inspiration,
and the last personal “testimony of Jesus, which is the spirit of
prophecy.” Blessed in his works thus following him, he died in the Lord,
and now rests from his labors on the breast of that loved friend, who
cherished so tenderly the youthful Son of Thunder;――on the bosom of his
Redeemer and his Lord,――
“The bosom of his Father and his God.”