St. John, distinguished amongst the other Apostles as the Divine, the Theologian, and ‘the Disciple whom Jesus loved,’ was of Galilean birth, the son of Zebedee and Salome, and brother to St. James the Elder, who was some years his senior. St. Jerome and other ecclesiastical writers assert that he was highly educated, but others — with more probability, his father having been a fisherman — that he had little learning, though he was of so bright an intelligence that he readily absorbed the teaching of the Lord, grasping at once the full meaning of all the most abstruse points of the Christian doctrine. In the fourth Gospel, which is, there is little doubt, from his hand, he never mentions himself by name, but calls himself simply ‘the disciple whom Jesus loved,’ and it is only with difficulty that an account of his life can be pieced together.
It is now generally believed, however, that St. John the Divine was a disciple of St. John the Baptist before he was called to follow Christ, and that he and his brother James were added to the followers of the Master on the same day. At first, they continued to earn their living as fishermen, but after they had witnessed the miracle of the great Draught of fishes, they forsook all and followed Jesus, who, on account of their zeal in His service, called them Boanerges, or the Sons of Thunder. St. John seems to have been the constant companion of the Lord; he was privileged to witness His transfiguration; he lay upon His breast at the Last Supper; he was with Him in the agony of the garden; and even if, as some, including St. Chrysostom, deny, he forsook Him, as did the other disciples, on His arrest, he quickly rallied, and followed Him, with St. Peter, to the house of Caiaphas. It was St. John who obtained for St. Peter, to whom he was greatly attached, admission into the palace of the High Priest; and after the condemnation of the Lord to death, he never lost sight of Him. He stood beneath the Cross all through the hours of agony, and to him were addressed some of the last words of the Redeemer. St. John is the only one of the Evangelists who reports the incident of the commendation of the dying Savior’s Mother to his care, and it is probable that he and the Virgin alone heard or understood it. It is believed that the beloved disciple aided in the removal of the sacred body from the Cross; when Mary Magdalene brought the extraordinary news to the assembled disciples that the Lord was taken out of the sepulchre, St. John was the first to reach the tomb, though, with characteristic humility, he did not venture to enter it until after St. Peter had confirmed the report that the body was not there; and when, a few days later, the Savior appeared to certain of the disciples who were fishing on the Sea of Tiberias, St. John was the first to recognize Him.
After the Ascension, St. John probably remained at Jerusalem until the death of the Virgin set him free from his sacred trust. He was certainly there when St. Paul paid his second visit to it after his conversion; for in the Epistle to the Galatians he is classed with James and Cephas as pillars of the Church, who recognized the grace given to the new Apostle. The rest of the life of St. John is, unfortunately, involved in considerable obscurity. The answer of Christ to St. Peter’s inquiry, ‘What shall this man do?’ led many to suppose that St. John did not die, but was taken to heaven by the Lord; but St. John himself pointed out that the words ‘If I will that he tarry till I come‘ did not really justify the interpretation put on them. St. John was present at the Council held by the Apostles at Jerusalem in A.D. 51, and although he was absent on St. Paul’s third visit, about A.D. 58, it probably remained his headquarters for many years; for he was certainly present at the Council when St. Simeon was chosen Bishop of Jerusalem. He probably, however, made missionary journeys in various directions, and his first Epistle is sometimes spoken of as that to the Parthians. He is said to have founded a Church at Bassora, on the Persian Gulf, as well as seven other Churches. He is supposed to have resided for some time at Ephesus, where he wrote the Gospel and Epistles bearing his name, and a tradition is received in the Roman Catholic Church to the effect that he was fetched from that city to Rome during the terrible persecution of the Christians under Domitian. At this time St. John was the only surviving Apostle, and it was hoped that the tyrant would relent at the sight of his noble and venerable prisoner, who answered all the insulting questions put to him with quiet dignity. Domitian, however, remained quite unmoved, but ordered St. John to be taken to the Latin Gate, and there, outside the Temple of Diana, now replaced by a church, known as S. Giovanni in Oleo, to be thrown into a cauldron of boiling oil, after he had been well scourged. This, says the legend, was duly done, but the saint was miraculously preserved from injury, coming forth from the ordeal as from a refreshing bath. Even this miracle failed to impress the Emperor; he attributed it to magic, and banished the Apostle to Patmos, a barren island in the Ægean Sea, where he is said to have seen the visions recorded in the Apocalypse, and on a mountain of which now rises a fine monastery defeated to him, founded in the eleventh century.
On the death of Domitian, the fury against the Christians somewhat subsided, and St. John is supposed to have been allowed to return to Ephesus, where he dwelt in peace, ministering to the faithful until his death, when he was nearly one hundred years old. Some assert that he was buried on a mountain outside the town, and that a beautiful church, now replaced by a Turkish mosque, marked the site of bis tomb; others that no one knows where his body was laid, confirming the belief that he went straight to heaven, without meeting the common doom of humanity.
Many beautiful and picturesque legends are related of St. John the Evangelist. St. Isidore tells f an attempt made at Rome to poison him with the Sacramental wine; but he drank of it without injury, and from the cup issued a serpent, which fell dead at his feet as he turned to offer the Communion to the kneeling worshippers. According to another version, the Emperor Domitian ordered St. John to drink poison after the futile attempt to murder him outside the Latin Gate, the very cup used on this occasion being still, it is said, preserved in the Church of S. Croce in Gerusalemme, at Rome; whilst other writers assert that he was challenged by the High Priest of Diana at Ephesus to prove the truth of his doctrine by drinking poison, a test from which he emerged triumphantly, no evil drug having power to harm him.
Another incident significant of the great influence exercised by the Evangelist over all with whom he came in contact is told by Clement of Alexandria, Eusebius, and others, and is also included in the Golden Legend. When St. John was at Ephesus, before the summons to Rome which led to his exile to Patmos, he had adopted as a kind of spiritual son a young man richly endowed in body and in mind. When compelled to leave the city, he solemnly commended him, at a farewell service, to the care of the Bishop, saying to the latter: ‘In the presence of Christ and before this congregation, I earnestly recommend this young man to thy protection.’ The Bishop promised not to lose sight of him, and took him into his own house. He was duly baptized and confirmed, but after that he seems to have been left very much to his own devices, for he began to consort with the dissipated young heathen of Ephesus, and, becoming rapidly more and more depraved, he eventually joined a band of highway robbers, being chosen by them as their leader, on account of his reckless courage. Presently St. John returned from his exile, and, going to the Bishop, he demanded an account of the sacred trust he had confided to him. The Bishop, thinking he referred to the Church or to the Church funds, replied that all was well, at which the Evangelist, who knew the truth, replied: ‘It is of my adopted son I ask; I demand of thee where he is.’ The Bishop, terrified at the expression of his questioner’s face, answered with assumed sadness: ‘Alas! he is dead.’ ‘Of what did he die?’ demanded St. John. Then the Bishop, fearing some terrible judgment if he hid the truth, pretended that he had spoken figuratively. ‘He is dead to us,’ he said, ‘for he has left my house, and gone to live with wicked men upon a hill without the city.’ Then St. John wept and rent his garments, crying aloud: ‘Oh, what a guardian did I provide to watch over a brother’s soul!’ The penitent Bishop offered to send messengers to fetch the misguided young man, but St. John declared he would go himself; and, having obtained a horse, he went forth, attended only by a guide, and rested not till he reached the outposts of the robbers’ gang. They at once took him prisoner, and he begged them to take him to their leader. This they did, and when the captain looked upon him, he knew his old master at once. Ashamed to look him in the face, he turned away, and, to the astonishment of his men, he was about to flee before one defenseless old man, when the Apostle said to him, in a voice trembling with affection: ‘Child, child, why dost thou fly from me, thy father? Have compassion on me! There is yet room for repentance for thee; thy doom is not yet finally sealed. I, even I, will answer for thee to our Lord; I will lay down my life for thee, even as Jesus did for all mankind. I will pledge my soul for thine. Oh, stay with me, for I am the chosen messenger of Christ!’ Some say the young man yielded at once, others that he fled into the remote fastnesses of the mountain, St. John, old and feeble as he was, pursuing him, and at last overtaking him. When he found he could not escape, the young man turned at last, and, with many sobs, fell on his knees before the saint, entreating his forgiveness; and, adds the legend, with one of the realistic touches the old chroniclers were so fond of giving, he hid his blood-stained right hand beneath his robe. St. John, however, seized that very hand and kissed it, washing away the criminal marks with his tears. The penitent then returned with him to Ephesus, but of his later career nothing is related.
Two other young men of Ephesus, who had been converted by St. John, afterwards repented their retirement from the world, and longed to be once more enjoying its pleasures. The Apostle, reading their thoughts, is said to have ordered them to go into the roads without the city, and there collect for him all the small stones and sticks they could find. They quickly brought him a large supply, wondering much what he would do with them. When they were piled up before him, he touched them, and behold! they were turned into gold. ‘Take back your riches and enjoy them on earth,’ said the saint; ‘it is evident you prefer them to the heaven you chose when you became my disciples.’
Yet another legend is told of the work of St. John at Ephesus. He was on his way home after his exile at Patmos when, as he approached the town, he met a funeral procession issuing from it, and he inquired of the weeping mourners, ‘Who is taken from you? They replied, not recognizing him, that it was Drusiana, and he was grieved to the heart, for she was a pious Christian woman, with whom he used to dwell, and she would be a terrible loss not only to him but to the whole Church. So, he bade them in the words of his Master set down the bier, and, kneeling beside it, he prayed earnestly to God for the restoration to life of his friend. His petition was granted. Drusiana rose up, as if awaking from sleep, and, accompanied by her deliverer, returned to her house, where St. John remained with her until his own death.
Of the many miracles ascribed to St. John after he was called to God, one of the most celebrated is that on behalf of the Empress Galla Placidia, who, on her way from Constantinople with her two children, in the year 425 A.D., was overtaken by a terrible storm. In her distress she cried to St. John the Evangelist, vowing that if she were saved through his intercession, she would build a great church in his honor. The storm subsided, she landed in safety with her little ones, and the church, of which some portion of the original structure still remains, was built and dedicated to the Evangelist. But the Empress was not yet quite satisfied. To make her church all she longed for it to be, it was necessary that it should own some actual relic of its protector to attract the devotion of the faithful. So, she prayed once more earnestly to St. John, and one night he appeared to her in a vision. She flung herself at his feet, and as she was embracing and kissing them, he disappeared, leaving one of his sandals in her hand as proof of the reality of his presence.
Another miracle of special interest, as being the only one St. John the Evangelist is credited with having performed in England, although he is greatly honored in that country, was wrought on behalf of St. Edward the Confessor, who one day on his way home from a Mass held in his church of Westminster, in honor of the Apostle, was stopped by a pilgrim, who lagged alms from him in the name of God, and of the beloved disciple of Jesus. The King, who was never known to resist such an appeal, yet stood somewhat in awe of the criticism of his courtiers, pretended to pass on without noticing the poor man, but secretly slipped into his hand a ring of great value from his own finger. Nothing more was seen or heard of beggar or of ring for twenty-four years, and then two English pilgrims returning from the Holy Land were in their turn met by a wanderer wearing a dress similar to their own, who stopped them, asked them many questions, and finally said to them: ‘When you reach England, go to King Edward, salute him from me, thank him for the alms he bestowed on me, and tell him I now restore to him the ring he gave me so long ago. In six months, he shall join me where I am, never to leave me again.’ ‘Who art thou, and where dost thou dwell?’ inquired the astonished pilgrims. ‘I am John the Evangelist,’ was the unexpected reply; ‘and Edward your King is my friend. Go therefore now, and deliver this ring and my message. May God grant that you arrive safely in your own land. ’The heavenly visitor then gave them the ring and disappeared. Full of reverent awe, the pilgrims obeyed his instructions literally. King Edward recognized his ring at once, and rewarded the messengers liberally. Then, knowing that the saint had spoken the truth, and that his own end was approaching, he set himself to prepare for an event he looked forward to with joy. Just before his death, on the eve of the Epiphany of the following year, he gave his recovered ring to the Abbot of Westminster, telling him that he and his successors were to preserve it for ever as a sacred relic.
According to some authorities, the meeting between the King and the pilgrim took place at Waltham, and it is further related that in memory of the miracle King Edward II. gave at his Coronation two small statues of gold, which formerly stood near the shrine of St. Edward the Confessor, in Westminster Abbey, one fashioned as a King holding a ring, and the other as a pilgrim putting forth his hand to receive the gift.
St. John the Divine is greatly reverenced both in the Greek and Roman Churches; the 25th of September is dedicated to him in the former, and the 27th of December in the latter, which also holds the 6th of May sacred to him, in memory of his sufferings at the Latin Gate. In a silver gilt urn in the Basilica of St. John Lateran, at Rome, are preserved some chains said to be those with which he was bound when he was taken from Ephesus to Rome; and in the same church is kept part of a tunic with which he is supposed to have restored to life the ministers of the Emperor, who, according to one version of the poison legend, died from drinking the potion prepared for the Apostle. This tunic used to be credited with the power of bringing down rain in seasons of drought, and some devout Catholics still believe that the lamps of the altar beneath which it is kept light themselves on the festival of the saint.
St. John the Divine is the patron saint of many towns. He shares with his namesake, the Baptist, the care of Lyons, Langres, Cleves, and Besanąon, with St. James the Elder that of Mecklenburg and Pesaro, and is the patron of Lima, giving his name to the Cathedrals of Arezzo, Schaffhausen, Zittau, and Stargund. The Knights Templars and theologians of every nationality have chosen him as their special protector; the Former having embodied in their coat of arms a cup because the saint is said to have drunk poison from one unharmed. On account of his immunity from the boiling oil St. John is said to be able to save from burning, and to cure scalds, etc. For a somewhat similar reason candle-makers, who use heated fat, have chosen him as their saint, and vine-dressers call on him for help because the vats in which they crush their grapes bear some resemblance to the caldron into which he was flung. As ‘the disciple whom Jesus loved,’ St. John is invoked to secure the fidelity of mends; for a self-evident reason he is supposed to save from the effects of poison; and as the author of so many important works, he is the friend of all who have to do with the making of books or with the care of libraries: a wide patronage, taking in typographers, paper or parchment makers, writers or copyists for the press, notaries, engravers, bookbinders, and even, by a not altogether unnatural association, paperhangers.
As a matter of course, a saint of such great importance in the Church, and so generally invoked by believers of every nationality, St. John the Evangelist has many and various characteristics, by which he may be identified in works of art His principal symbol, the eagle, sometimes bears in his beak or claws a case of pens or an inkhorn, or, as in the Missal of Henry VIII., in the Bodleian Library, Oxford, the royal bird has a nimbus about his head, to mark the fact that St. John was inspired by the Holy Spirit. In certain old prints representing the Evangelist writing his Gospel, some text from it, such as ‘The Word was made Flesh,’ is inscribed in or beneath his book, and he sometimes holds a scroll bearing the words, ‘I believe in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord’; or a gleaming circle, with the words within it. In primo est verbum. In the mosaics in the apse of the Basilica of S. Paolo fuori le Mura, where the verses of the hymn Gloria in Excelsis mark the order of the Apostles instead of the clauses of the Creed, the fifth is given to St. John. The cup or chalice is a very constant emblem of the beloved disciple, some say in allusion to the words of the Lord, ‘Ye shall drink indeed of My cup,’ but more probably on account of the legend, related above, of the attempt to poison the Apostle. The 6th of May and the 27th of December are both marked by a cup in some old calendars, and the saint is frequently represented holding a chalice in his hand from which a little serpent is issuing. In the Calendar of the Anglican Church, preserved at Oxford, St. John is seen wearing a robe embroidered all over with little cups, but without the serpent. Sometimes, again, the place of the serpent is taken by the consecrated wafer, when it is supposed to signify not the escape from poison, but the Institution of the Holy Eucharist, and now and then, because of St. John’s supposed reference to the Real Presence in the sixth chapter of his Gospel, an Angel holding the cup and paten is introduced beside him. In some old prints representing St. John writing his gospel, the devil is introduced peeping over his shoulder, trying to upset the ink or running away with the inkhorn.
Prior to the fourteenth century, the Evangelist was sometimes represented, as in certain stained- glass windows at Bourges, placing himself in his own tomb, in obedience to the command of Christ. Now and then the tomb is near the altar of a church, for, according to one version of the legend, St. John, when he reached the age of ninety-eight, instructed his disciples to prepare his grave there, and one Sunday, after a touching address to them, he took his place in it. Then a dazzling light hid him from the spectators, and when they could see again, he was gone. Representations of this scene occur in the Greek Menology, where the tomb is of the form of a cross. In the Christian Museum of the Vatican, amongst a series of pictures of the deaths of the Apostles, is one of the living St. John issuing from the grave, and in a MS. in the Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris, he is leaving an ornate tomb, whilst Christ, the Virgin, St. Peter, and St. Paul are descending from Heaven to receive him.
On account of his restoration of Drusiana to life, a dead body is sometimes represented at the feet of St. John, and yet another symbol, in this case recalling his torture at the Latin Gate, is a caldron or vat, which assumes various forms, such as a cone-shaped receptacle, a hemisphere, a round or square basin. In the Greek Menology it is shaped like a tower, and in certain very ancient representations flames are seen issuing from it. Examples also occur of the introduction round about St. John, when he is writing his Gospel or the Revelation, of seven churches, in allusion, of course, to the seven Churches of Asia under his care, and also probably to the exceptional position he occupied amongst the early Christians. Occasionally these Churches are typified by seven bells, and now and then the Evangelist has one church only, which he holds in his hand, a symbol often associated with those who have aided in spreading the faith. In certain old pictures St. John is represented on the shoulders of a young man, in allusion, it is supposed, to the pursuit of his adopted son related above.
A partridge is sometimes given to St. John on account of his having, it is said, long kept a bird of that kind as a pet, feeding it from his hand, and often carrying it about with him. Certain early writers relate that a huntsman one day passed by when the bird was nestling in its master’s hand, and said to St. John that he wondered a man so busy and so venerable could spare time to play with a bird. To which the Apostle replied: ‘Dost thou keep thy bow always bent?’ ‘No, said the huntsman, ‘it would very soon lose its flexibility and usefulness if I did.’ ‘Well,’ said St. John, ‘for the same reason I do not keep my mind always on the strain; to do so would be to defeat my own purpose.’
A book is, of course, a constant emblem of the great Evangelist, but when held in his hand at Calvary it has special reference to his own words: ‘He that saw it bare record.’ When allusion is intended to the actual writing of the Gospel, the Epistles, or the Apocalypse, the book is generally replaced by a tablet or scroll, and in some old prints the winged eagle is introduced, as if on guard over his master during his absorption in his task.
St. John is the only Evangelist of whom enough is known for a distinct idea to be formed as to his personal character and the appearance which probably reflected that character. Greek artists represented him as an old man of dignified bearing, with a long white beard, and this tradition was followed by the early painters of the Latin Church, but it gradually became superseded by an ideal face and figure as of one endowed with the gift of everlasting youth. In early religious paintings it is as a young, beardless man that the beloved disciple appears when with the other Apostles; his hair is pale brown or golden, his features express rapt devotion, his figure is full alike of dimity and grace, and as a general rule he wears a red robe with a blue or green tonic. Later the appearance of St. John varied according to the fancy of the artist, but all have agreed in singling him out from his brethren as one as richly endowed with corporeal as with spiritual beauty. He is placed nearest to the Savior at the Last Supper, or at the Institution of the Eucharist, and in some instances, he is even privileged to hold the cup. In the Crucifixion, when treated symbolically rather than historically, he stands on the left of the Cross opposite to the Virgin on the right, or, when the women are seen afar off, he is conspicuous in their midst. In the taking down of the sacred body from the Cross, St. John is a principal actor; he leads the Virgin home after her Son has been laid in the sepulchre; he is among those who share the Lord’s last earthly meal; he is especially noticeable for his earnest devotion in the group which watched His Ascension, and in the thrilling experience of Pentecost he is one of the most conspicuous figures.
St. John the Evangelist is very often associated in art with St. Peter, partly because they were so often together during the earthly life of the Master, and partly because they worked in concert at the foundation of the Church after He was taken from them. A beautiful friendship seems, indeed, to have existed between them, the very differences in their characters drawing them more closely to each other. In his Gospel St. John makes many touching references to his fellow-apostle, notably in his account of St. Peter in the Hall of Caiaphas, at the trial, and in his relation of the conversation after the Resurrection between Christ and the repentant follower who had denied Him, which did so much to reinstate St. Peter in the good opinion of his fellow-disciples. Sometimes it is St. John the Baptist who appears as the companion of the Evangelist, probably because he was the means of bringing his namesake to Christ, for, as already remarked, St. John the Divine was in the first case the disciple of the Forerunner.
On account of his profound exposition of the doctrine of the Incarnation, St. John is sometimes introduced in pictures of the Nativity; and now and then, as in a quaint Greek example reproduced by Bianchini in his ‘Evangelarium Quadruplex,’ the symbolic right hand issuing from a circle, with three stars to indicate the Trinity, is introduced above the Evangelist’s right shoulder, to mark the direct inspiration from on high through which he wrote his Gospel and the Book of the Revelation.
Single figures of St. John the Evangelist, in which he is represented as a young man of ideal beauty, are numerous. Amongst them may be mentioned as especially fine the fresco by Correggio in the Church of S. Giovanni Evangelista at Parma, in which he is seated writing his Revelation with his eagle at his feet, and the seated marble figure by Donatello in the Florence Cathedral. He is constantly introduced in devotional pictures, generally associated with St. John the Baptist, as in Memlinc’s triptych in the Imperial Museum, Vienna, and in the bronze group of unknown authorship on the tomb of Henry VII. in Westminster Abbey. Occasionally, too, St. John the Evangelist is represented playing as a child with his name-sake at the feet of the Virgin, as in a marble group in the Church of S. Maria sopra Minerva, Rome, or as a man in the prime of life kneeling at the foot of the throne, on which the Virgin is seated, as in a picture by Domenichino in the Brera Gallery, Milan.
In illuminated MSS. of the Apocalypse, and in many early frescoes, oil paintings, and bas-reliefs, St. John is introduced writing his Revelation, sometimes as a young man, as in the wonderful series of scenes on the inside of one of the shutters of the great altar-piece by Memlinc at Bruges, or more rarely as very old and with a long white beard. His eagle is seldom absent, and in the sky above appear the Madonna and Child, as in a picture by Lucas van Leyden, or the woman fleeing from the dragon, referred to in his vision, is seen in the background, as in a painting in the Brera Gallery, Milan.
In scenes from the Life and Passion of Christ St. John the Evangelist is, of course, often one of the principal figures, as in the various representations of the Transfiguration noticed below. In pictures of the Last Supper, he is always privileged to be nearest the heart of the Master, on His left side. In Leonardo da Vinci’s great picture at Milan he rests his clasped hands upon the table, and seems to be about to reply to St. Peter’s request that he should ask the Lord of whom He spoke; in the ‘Cenacolo’ of Taddeo Gaddi in S. Croce, Florence, his head rests upon the knees of Christ; in that attributed to Raphael in the Refectory of S. Onofirio, Florence, Christ places His left hand on the shoulder of St. John, who rests against Him; in that by Ghirlandaio in the San Marco Convent he seems to have fainted away with horror at the accusation of Christ; and in Albert Dürer’s rendering of the same theme the Master has drawn the beloved disciple close to Him with His left arm.
In the subject known as the ‘Procession to Calvary,’ or the ‘Bearing of the Cross, St. John the Divine is sometimes introduced with the Mother of the Lord leaning upon him as she follows her condemned Son at a distance, as in a picture by Lucas Cranach, and in the celebrated ‘Spasimo di Cecilia’ by Raphael in the Prado Museum, Madrid, in which Christ, sinking beneath His Cross, turns to look at His Mother, who is supported by St. John and Mary Magdalene.
In representations of the Crucifixion St. John constantly appears either with the Virgin at the foot of the Cross, or with the mourning women looking on from afar off. As a rule, he stands on the left, whilst the Virgin is on the right of the Cross; but sometimes he is reverently supporting the Mother as her grief overcomes her. In a picture by Martin Schoen, for instance, he sustains her fainting figure in his arms; in Albert Dürer’s ‘Great Passion’ he has one arm round the Virgin as he looks up to listen in silent reverence to the dying bequest of the Master, and in Tintoretto’s famous ‘Crucifixion’ in the Scuola di San Rocco, Venice, he is aiding one of the attendant women to support the Virgin, who, but for them, would have fallen to the ground.
Although they are often spoken of as one and the same, the ‘Descent from the Cross’ and the ‘Deposition’ are, strictly speaking, distinct subjects in sacred art, the former representing the actual taking down of the body, whilst in the latter it is already lying on the ground. In the ‘Descent’ St. John the Evangelist is not always present, for, according to a touching tradition, when the nails had been withdrawn from the hands of the dead Christ by St. Joseph of Arimathea, the beloved disciple hastened away with them, lest the sight of them should add to the anguish of the bereaved Mother; but in the great picture by Rubens in the Antwerp Cathedral St. John and St. Mary Magdalene receive the sacred burden at the toot of the Cross ; and some Italian masters, notably Fra Angelico, make St. John sustain the head as the body is lowered. In the ‘Deposition’ St. John is rarely absent. Ribera, in the beautiful painting now in the Convent of San Martino at Naples, represents him heading the head and shoulders of Christ m his arms as he kneels at the feet of the Virgin; in Andrea del Sarto’s fine rendering of the same subject in the Cathedral at Cortona St. John stands at the foot of the Cross, gazing down at the body lying at bis feet with an expression of yearning love, and St. James and St. Peter stand by on the left talking earnestly together; whilst Raphael, in one of several interpretations of the theme, introduces the beloved disciple bending with clasped hands and a face full of grief over the swooning Virgin, who is being waited on by the other Maries.
The subject known as a Pieta should strictly speaking contain only two figures — those of the dead Christ and the mourning Mother, but the name is now somewhat loosely applied to groups including either St. John the Evangelist or the Magdalene, or both of them with other saints, and more rarely attendant angels. Beautiful examples in which St. John appears are the Pieta of Giotto in the Arena Chapel, Padua, that by Giottino in the Uffizi Gallery, Florence, in both of which the Virgin embraces Christ, who lies upon a shroud, Mary Magdalene kisses the hand, and St. John stands by looking on with other mourners; and the altar-piece by Memlinc in the Hospital of St. John at Bruges, in which the Apostle is bathing the head of the dead Christ, and the Virgin and St. Mary Magdalene are looking on.
In representations of the Entombment St. John the Evangelist is almost always present, either as one of the bearers or amongst the mourners following the body to the grave. The subject was a favorite one with Raphael, and various beautiful drawings for his pictures are scattered about the galleries of Europe. The most celebrated example of a completed work is that now in the Borghese Gallery, Rome, painted in 1509 for the Church of S. Francesco, at Perugia, in which the figure of St. John, who is looking over the shoulder of St. Joseph of Arimathea, is especially fine. Other beautiful renderings of the same theme are that in the Pitti Palace, Florence, by Perugino, considered one of his best works, with that now in the Louvre by Titian, who has chosen for representation the moment when the body of the Lord is about to be lowered into the grave by St. John the Evangelist, St. Joseph of Arimathea, and Nicodemus, the only spectators present being the Virgin and St, Mary Magdalene, who look on in an agony of grief.
In some few purely devotional pictures to which the name of the ‘Mater Dolorosa’ has been given, St. John the Evangelist is also introduced, notably in one by the little-known Tiarini, in which the seated Virgin holds the crown of thorns, and St. Mairy Magdalene and St. John are at her feet, the former kneeling, the latter standing by in an attitude expressive of profound sympathy.
Strange to say, pictures of the touching subject of St. John’s compliance with his dying Master’s last request are very rare, but Zurbaran, in an oil-painting now in the Berlin Gallery, has represented the beloved disciple leading the Virgin to his own home in the early dawn of the morning after the Entombment; and on one of the wings of an Altar-piece, ascribed to Taddeo Gaddi, now in the Munich Gallery, Christ stands between His Mother and St. John, with a hand on the shoulder of each, and the two clasp hands, as if in obedience to a command from the Lord.
In representations of the Farewell charge on the beach of the Sea of Tiberias, when St. Peter asked, ‘What shall this man do?’ of the Ascension of Christ, the Descent of the Holy Spirit, the Death, and Assumption of the Virgin, noticed below in connection with the twelve Apostles, St. John the Evangelist is always an important figure. In Raphael’s cartoon of the Descent of the Holy Ghost, the Virgin is seated between St. John and St. Peter, and in many representations of scenes from the Acts of the Apostles, as in the Healing of the Lame Man at the Gate of the Temple, these two great disciples appear together. On the socle of the Cartoon of Saints Paul and Barnabas at Lystra St. John is seen taking leave of the other Apostles before he goes to Antioch, and m that of the ‘Death of Ananias’ he is introduced twice: in the foreground, amongst the other Apostles, and in the background, distributing alms to the poor. In the fresco of the ‘Death of the Virgin’ by Filippo Lippi in the Cathedral of Prato, St. John kneels near the bed in an attitude fall of grief; and in the fifteenth-century sculptures in Chartres Cathedral of the Burial of the Virgin he heads the funeral procession.
Pictures from the legendary history of St. John the Evangelist are also numerous. In illuminated MSS. of his Gospel and of the Revelation he is often represented drinking from the poisoned chalice unharmed, whilst his would-be murderer lies dead at his feet; and in some old engravings the incident of his meeting with his old pupil as a robber in the mountains is introduced. In the stained-glass windows of the Cathedral of Bourges the legend related above of the turning of stones into p[old is graphically rendered, and the Resurrection of Drusiana is the subject of several fine frescoes. It occurs on the walls of the Strozzi Chapel, Florence, among Filippo Lippi’s ‘Scenes from the Lives of the Apostles,’ with the yet more dramatic episode of the Escape of the Evangelist from the boiling oil at the Latin Gate, which was a favorite subject with Flemish and German artists, having been realistically treated by Rubens, Albert Dilrer, and others, notably by Quentin Matsys on one of the wings of his great altar-piece of the Entombment, now in the Antwerp Museum.
St. John preaching to his disciples at Ephesus, and his appearance to the Empress Galla Placidia, when, as related above, he is said to have left one of his sandals in her hand, are the subjects of various old frescoes and bas-reliefs of unknown authorship; and the legend of King Edward the Confessor and St. John is amongst the motives of the quaint carvings on the Screen in the beautiful chapel at Westminster, one scene representing the giving of the ring to the pilgrim, another the meeting between St. John and the palmers in the Holy Land, and a third the restoration of the ring to King Edward.
Adapted from: The Saints in Christian Art: The Evangelists, Apostles, and Other Early Saints, By Mrs. Arthur Bell, (London: George Bell & Sons, 1901)