From James to Peter: How Power Rewrote the Apostolic Past

James, known as the Lord’s brother, occupies a unique and revered place in early Christian history. Unlike the apostles who followed Jesus from Galilee, James was part of Jesus’s own family, and after the resurrection, he emerged as the acknowledged leader of the Jerusalem church; sometimes even called James the Just for his piety and unwavering adherence to the Law. His authority among the early believers was so significant that even Paul refers to him as one of the pillars of the Church (Galatians 2:9).

Our knowledge of James and his family, sometimes referred to as the Desposyni; a Greek term meaning “those belonging to the Lord”; comes from a combination of early Christian writings and later church historians. The second-century writer Hegesippus, preserved through *Eusebius of Caesarea’s Ecclesiastical History (Book 3, Chapter 19–20), records that during the reign of Emperor Domitian, the Roman authorities became alarmed by rumors of surviving relatives of Jesus who might claim royal descent. Domitian, fearing a rival messianic movement, ordered that the grandsons of Jude, another brother of the Lord, be brought before him for questioning. However, upon learning that these men were poor farmers with calloused hands and no worldly ambitions, Domitian dismissed them; a sign that the family of Jesus had no temporal power, but retained immense spiritual influence among the faithful.

Hegesippus also tells us that James himself met a violent end; not at the hands of pagans, but by the religious establishment in Jerusalem. He was condemned and killed, thrown from the pinnacle of the Temple and then beaten to death. The group behind his death were the leading priestly families, the same aristocratic Sadducean elite who dominated the Temple hierarchy. Much like the Roman nobility, these priestly houses claimed ancestral and divine legitimacy, tracing their authority through hereditary lines tied to Aaron and the old priesthood. In both Rome and Jerusalem, power was held by those who claimed descent from sacred or semi-divine origins; and in both cases, James and the early Christians stood as a profound challenge to such worldly hierarchies.

Thus, James’s martyrdom marks a decisive moment: the conflict between the humble, prophetic faith of the followers of Jesus and the entrenched religious-political order of both Judea and the wider Roman world.

It seems those who preached humility most loudly were often the quickest to draw blood in its defense. That instinct, baptized in incense and creed, has not died. It became doctrine. And so the heirs of the Temple and the Empire alike fashioned for themselves a moral disguise for murder; the Just War Theory; a theology built to reconcile the Sermon on the Mount with the ambitions of kings.

But the logic collapses the moment one holds it to the light of Christ. For the Gospel does not present a spectrum between peace and necessary violence; it offers only a cross; and the cross is not balanced, it is absolute. Christ does not conquer by killing; He conquers by dying. The moment we claim that killing can be holy, we confess that the Crucifixion was in vain.

The so-called “Just War” rests on a blasphemous assumption: that human reason can measure righteousness with scales more precise than divine mercy. It assumes that violence can serve justice if only wielded by the right hands, blessed by the right prayers, or aimed at the right enemies.

The prophets understood this long before the theologians forgot it. Isaiah did not say, “They shall learn to fight only when justly provoked,” but rather, “They shall learn war no more" Isaiah 2:2–4 (KJV) Jesus did not tell Peter to use his sword proportionally, but to put it away entirely.

The Just War theory, then, is not theology at all but a wound in theology. It is the attempt to make the cross serve the empire rather than confront it. Every empire has its priests, and every empire needs them to tell its soldiers that God approves. But the blood of the innocent forever testifies otherwise.

So the pattern continues. The same fear that drove the high priests to kill James; the fear that holiness might expose hypocrisy, that weakness might unmask strength; still drives men to sanctify violence in the name of divine order. But humility cannot be defended by the sword. It is only proved by it — when it refuses to strike.

Introducing the Teachings of James the Just

So now, having seen the life and death of James; the Lord’s brother, the pillar of the early Church, and the conscience of Jerusalem; we turn to hear what James the Just himself taught. His words were not the speculations of a philosopher, nor the decrees of a ruler, but the distilled wisdom of a man who lived so close to the pattern of Christ that even his enemies called him “the Just.”

He wrote to the diaspora; to the scattered believers, many still of Israel, who were struggling to reconcile faith with poverty, persecution, and daily labor. What he offers is not theology for the classroom, but guidance for the soul: a faith proved not by profession, but by endurance; not by doctrine alone, but by deeds born of love.

Let us then listen again to his teaching; not as a relic of the past, but as a living voice speaking to every age that has traded mercy for might, and humility for ambition.

The Letter of James – Chapter 1 (Explained and Retold)

James introduces himself as a servant of God and of Jesus, writing to the scattered believers who still belong to the family of Israel (not the modern nation-state, which did not exist at the time, but the spiritual community descended from Jacob — those who wrestle with God and remain faithful to His covenant) (1)

He begins by saying that every hardship can become a reason for joy, because tests grow our faith like exercise strengthens muscle. Endurance produces maturity; when patience has done its work, nothing essential will be missing. (2–4)

When you feel uncertain, ask God for wisdom. He gives freely and never scolds anyone for asking. But ask with a steady heart; doubt makes a person restless and pulled in opposite directions, like a wave driven by wind. (5–8)

Those who seem poor in this world can rejoice, because God lifts them up. Those who are rich should learn humility, for worldly wealth fades as quickly as a flower scorched by the sun. (9–11)

The person who endures temptation is truly blessed, for perseverance leads to the crown of life that God promises to those who love Him. (12)

Don’t blame God for temptation; evil desire is born inside us, not in Him. Desire grows into sin, and sin, once full-grown, brings death. (13–15)

Everything good comes from God, the Father of lights, who doesn’t change or cast shadows. By His own will He brought us to life through the Word of truth, making us the first fruits of His creation. (16–18)

So be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to anger; human anger never achieves God’s kind of justice. (19–20)

Put away what corrupts you and welcome the Word that has been planted in your heart; it can save you. (21)

Hearing God’s Word is not enough; we must live it. Otherwise we’re like someone who looks in a mirror and forgets their own face. (22–24)

But those who study and obey the perfect law that brings freedom will be blessed in all they do. (25)

If someone claims to be devout but speaks carelessly or cruelly, their religion is empty. (26)

True religion in God’s eyes is simple: care for those who have no one; orphans and widows; and keep your life unstained by the world’s corruption. (27)

The Letter of James – Chapter 2 (Explained and Retold)

James warns his readers not to mix faith with favoritism. If they truly believe in Jesus, the Lord of glory, they must not honor the rich while shaming the poor. (1)

He imagines a scene: a wealthy man enters your gathering, covered in gold rings and fine clothes, while a poor man in ragged garments comes in as well. (2) If you seat the rich man in a place of honor and tell the poor one to stand in the corner or sit on the floor, have you not judged by appearances and betrayed the spirit of Christ? (3–4)

Listen, my brothers and sisters, James says: has not God chosen the poor of this world to be rich in faith and heirs of His kingdom? (5)Yet you, seeking favor with the powerful, dishonor the very ones God has honored. Do not the rich drag you into courts and blaspheme the holy name by which you are called? (6–7)

If you truly fulfill the royal law of Scripture — “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” — then you do well. (8) But if you show partiality, you commit sin and stand convicted by the law as transgressors. (9) For whoever keeps the whole law but stumbles at one point is guilty of breaking it all; the same God who said “Do not commit adultery” also said “Do not kill.” (10–11)The law is one seamless whole, because love is one seamless command.

So speak and act as those who will be judged by the law that gives freedom — the law of mercy. (12) For judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone who has not been merciful; mercy triumphs over judgment. (13)

Here James reaches the heart of the Gospel: God’s justice is mercy, not retaliation.

Then he turns to the great question that divides words from reality: What good is it if someone claims to have faith but does nothing with it? Can such faith save them? (14) If a brother or sister is hungry and naked, and you say, “Go in peace, be warmed and filled,” but do nothing to meet their needs, what use is that? (15–16) So too, faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead. (17)

Someone might object, saying, “You have faith and I have works.” But James replies: show me your faith apart from works; you cannot; and I will show you my faith by what I do. (18) You believe there is one God; good! Even the demons believe that; and shudder.

(19) Belief alone is not obedience; truth must take flesh.

He points to Abraham, who was called righteous not by belief alone but by acting in trust; when he offered Isaac upon the altar, his faith was completed by his deed. (20–22) Scripture was fulfilled that says, “Abraham believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness,” and he was called the friend of God. (23) So you see that a person is made right with God by works; that is, by living faith; and not by faith that remains idle. (24)

He even reminds his readers of Rahab, the foreign woman who sheltered the messengers in Jericho: her courage to act was counted as faith, for faith is proven when mercy risks something. (25)

Then James closes the argument with an image as clear as breath itself: As the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is dead also. (26)

Reflection

Here James unites heaven and earth again. A faith that does not move the hand or open the heart is not faith in Christ, for Christ’s own faith was proved on the cross, not in the creed.

The Letter of James – Chapter 3 (Explained and Retold)

My brothers and sisters, not many of you should presume to be teachers, for those who teach will be judged more strictly. (1) Every one of us stumbles in many ways, but if anyone does not stumble in speech, that person is mature; able to bridle the whole body as well. (2)

James uses images to show how something small can control something great: we put bits into horses’ mouths to steer them, and a tiny rudder directs a vast ship, even when fierce winds blow. (3–4) So too the tongue; small, yet it boasts of great things. A single spark can set a whole forest ablaze; likewise, a single word can destroy a life or a community. (5)

The tongue, he says, is like a fire, a world of unrighteousness among our members. It stains the whole body, sets the entire course of life aflame, and itself is set on fire by hell. (6) Every kind of beast and bird and sea creature has been tamed by humankind, but no one can tame the tongue; it is a restless evil, full of deadly poison. (7–8)

With it we bless God, and with it we curse those made in His likeness. From the same mouth come blessing and cursing; this should not be so. (9–10) Does a spring pour forth both fresh and salt water? Can a fig tree bear olives, or a grapevine produce figs? Neither can a polluted heart bring forth pure speech. (11–12)

Then James turns from speech to wisdom, for words reveal the source that feeds them. Who among you is wise and understanding? Show it not by boasting, but by a good life lived in gentleness born of wisdom. (13)

If your heart harbors bitter envy or selfish ambition, do not boast and pretend such wisdom comes from God. (14) Such “wisdom” is not from above, but is earthly, unspiritual, even demonic; for where jealousy and ambition rule, there will be disorder and every kind of evil. (15–16)

But the wisdom that comes from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial, and sincere. (17) And those who make peace sow seeds of righteousness that will bear a harvest of peace. (18)

Reflection

James reveals the heart of hypocrisy: to praise God while wounding His image in others, to claim divine wisdom while feeding on envy and pride. Speech is the mirror of the soul; what passes our lips shows what governs our hearts. To misuse the tongue is to wield creation’s first gift, the power of the Word, against the Creator Himself.

True wisdom, James says, is not cleverness or dominance but gentleness that flows from purity of heart. It does not need to shout, manipulate, or defend itself. It bears fruit quietly; peace, reason, and mercy; because it shares the nature of Christ, the Word made flesh, whose truth was never violent.

This sharply rebukes later distortions of wisdom, such as in the writings of Athanasius Kircher, who, misled by his fascination with ancient symbolism, called the serpent the first divine essence of wisdom. James himself dismantles such an idea: he tells us plainly that wisdom which arises from below; the wisdom that flatters pride, tempts curiosity, and seeks self-deification; is earthly, unspiritual, and demonic. The serpent’s promise, “you shall be as gods, knowing good and evil,” was not illumination but the oldest lie, the shadowed inversion of truth.

For wisdom that exalts the self is not divine. True wisdom descends; it does not rise. It is given, not grasped. It humbles, it does not enthrone.

Thus, James offers the perfect antidote to the sickness of every age: where religion grows proud and speech grows cruel, wisdom must once again descend from above; the wisdom that is pure, peaceable, and full of mercy, where the only true teacher speaks in love.

The Letter of James – Chapter 4 (Explained and Retold)

Where do wars and fights among you come from? James asks.They do not arise from some mysterious force outside you, but from the passions that battle within your own hearts. (1) You desire what you do not have, so you grasp and take. You envy and cannot obtain, so you quarrel and fight. Yet you do not have because you do not ask God; and when you do ask, you ask wrongly, only to satisfy your own cravings. (2–3)

Then comes one of the sharpest lines in all Scripture:

You adulterous people! (4) For when your heart loves the world’s ways; its pride, its rivalries, its lust for dominance; you become unfaithful to God, like a spouse who betrays a covenant. Do you not know that friendship with the world is enmity with God? Whoever chooses the world’s friendship makes himself God’s enemy. (4)

Or do you suppose that the Scripture speaks in vain when it says that the Spirit God placed within us yearns jealously for us? (5) But He gives greater grace; therefore it is written: “God resists the proud but gives grace to the humble.” (6)

So submit yourselves to God. (7) Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you. (8) Cleanse your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded. Lament and mourn and weep; let your laughter be turned to mourning and your joy to heaviness. (9) Humble yourselves before the Lord, and He will lift you up. (10)

Do not speak evil against one another, brothers and sisters. (11) He who judges his brother speaks against the law and judges the law itself. But there is only one Lawgiver and Judge; the One who is able to save and to destroy. Who are you, then, to judge your neighbor? (12)

Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go into this city, spend a year there, trade and make a profit.” (13) You do not even know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? It is a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away. (14) Instead you ought to say, “If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.” (15) But as it is, you boast in your arrogance; all such boasting is evil. (16) For whoever knows the right thing to do and does not do it, to him it is sin. (17)

Reflection

Here James strikes at the secret engine of all human conflict; desire turned inward. Wars between nations, quarrels between believers, the endless striving of pride; all are born from the same root: the refusal to be content with grace.

He calls this infidelity “adultery,” because the soul that was meant to love God alone gives itself instead to the world’s illusions: power, wealth, acclaim. The world seduces by promising freedom, yet it enslaves by feeding envy and fear. Friendship with it, James says, is enmity with God, for the two kingdoms; pride and grace; cannot share the same throne.

His answer is not despair but return. “Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you.” The humility he demands is not humiliation but healing; a lowering of the self so that love may rise again.

And when he warns against boasting about tomorrow, he exposes a subtler pride; the illusion of control. We speak as if time were ours to command, yet life itself is a vapor breathed by God. Wisdom, then, is not in conquest or clever planning, but in surrender: If the Lord wills.

Finally, James distills all moral reasoning into one piercing truth; that knowing the good and failing to do it is itself sin. There is no refuge in ignorance or in good intentions unfulfilled. Faith is shown in obedience, and humility is the only path to peace.

The Letter of James – Chapter 5 (Explained and Retold)

Now listen, you rich; weep and howl for the miseries that are coming upon you. (1) Your wealth has rotted, your fine clothes are moth-eaten, your gold and silver are corroded. (2–3) The corrosion of your treasure will stand as evidence against you and consume your flesh like fire. You have hoarded wealth in the last days while others starved. (3)

The wages you withheld from the laborers who mowed your fields cry out against you, and the cries of the harvesters have reached the ears of the Lord of Hosts. (4) You have lived in luxury and self-indulgence on the earth; you have fattened your hearts in a day of slaughter. (5) You have condemned and murdered the righteous one; and he does not resist you. (6)

Therefore, brothers and sisters, be patient until the coming of the Lord. (7) Look to the farmer, who waits for the precious fruit of the earth, being patient for the early and the late rains. You too must be patient. Strengthen your hearts, for the Lord’s coming is near. (8) Do not grumble against one another, so that you are not judged; behold, the Judge is standing at the door. (9)

Take the prophets as examples of suffering and endurance. (10) Indeed, we call blessed those who remain steadfast. You have heard of the perseverance of Job and seen how the Lord brought about his end; that the Lord is compassionate and full of mercy. (11)

But above all, my brothers and sisters, do not swear; not by heaven or by earth or by any other oath; but let your “yes” be yes and your “no” be no, so that you may not fall under condemnation. (12)

Is anyone among you suffering? Let them pray. (13) Is anyone cheerful? Let them sing praises. Is anyone sick? Let them call for the elders of the church, and let them pray over that person, anointing them with oil in the name of the Lord. (14) And the prayer of faith will save the sick, and the Lord will raise them up; and if they have sinned, they will be forgiven. (15)

Therefore confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another, that you may be healed. (16) The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective. Elijah, though human like us, prayed fervently that it might not rain, and for three and a half years no rain fell on the land; then he prayed again, and the heavens gave rain, and the earth produced its fruit. (17–18)

My brothers and sisters, if anyone among you wanders from the truth and someone brings them back, (19) know this: whoever turns a sinner from the error of their way will save that soul from death and cover a multitude of sins. (20)

Reflection

James ends not with doctrine but with a cry and a call; judgment upon the oppressors, and mercy for the broken. His words to the rich are not hatred, but grief: a lament that they have chosen corrosion over compassion, luxury over love. The “rust” he describes is not only metal turning to dust; it is the soul decaying under the weight of what it refuses to share.

Then the tone changes. The prophet becomes a pastor. He turns from denunciation to consolation; calling his readers to patience, humility, and mutual care. Just as the farmer trusts the seasons, the believer must trust the hidden work of God. The Judge stands at the door; not to terrify, but to remind us that justice is coming and mercy still calls.

In his final counsel, James gathers the life of faith into simple acts: pray, sing, confess (to one another), anoint, forgive, restore. No hierarchy, no grandeur; just the living body of believers carrying one another’s burdens, keeping each other close to the heart of God.

And the letter closes not with farewell, but with rescue: the image of one soul turning back another from the edge of death. For James, that is the truest work of faith; not argument, not ritual, but redemption born of love.

Christ never paraded His humility while storing up treasure on earth. The true Church of Christ does not amass gold while others go hungry, sleep in the streets, or languish in the slums. Yet much of what calls itself His Church has done just that — hoarding wealth to preserve a new Roman Empire draped in His name.

Christ and His kin were not slain for blasphemy or disorder, but because their message endangered two thrones — the temple and the empire. The great families who ruled both preferred their prestige and power to the service of the living God.

Jacob and Aaron: Two Lines of Heritage

In the ancient faith of Israel, two great ancestral lines shaped the people’s understanding of God; Jacob and Aaron. Yet they represent very different things.

Jacob, later named Israel after wrestling with the angel of God, is the father of the twelve tribes; the whole people of God’s covenant. His name means “one who struggles with God,” and it captures the essence of faith itself: not unquestioning obedience, but a life spent grappling with the divine, seeking truth, and being transformed by encounter. To belong to Jacob’s line is to belong to the spiritual family of faith; those who, like him, cling to God through uncertainty and pain until they receive a blessing. This is what James meant when he wrote to the “twelve tribes scattered abroad”; not the citizens of a modern state, but the dispersed children of faith who continue Jacob’s struggle toward holiness.

Aaron, by contrast, was the brother of Moses and the first High Priest of Israel. His descendants, the Aaronic priesthood, were charged with temple ritual, sacrifice, and maintaining ceremonial purity. Their authority was hereditary, tied to lineage and sacred office. In time, that priestly class; especially among the Sadducees; became the religious elite in Jerusalem, often aligned with political power and the Roman order.

Thus, Jacob’s inheritance represents the people’s living faith; humble, searching, and communal; while Aaron’s line came to represent institutional religion, bound to hierarchy and ritual authority. Both were necessary in their time, but when power corrupted the priesthood, the prophetic line of Jacob; the voice of the wrestlers, the seekers, the just; rose again in figures like James the Lord’s brother, who called the people back from empty ceremony to living faith.

It was not the sons of Jacob who killed the prophets, but the sons of Aaron who feared losing their power.