A LONG APPRENTICESHIP
Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all
things. (1 Cor 13:7)
"VENERABLE ONE!"
The address came from Gaius, a cocky youth who had been born and raised at Ephesus in the new Christian faith, and who had listened every Sunday to the teaching of the apostle John, given during the liturgical Synax. On that particular Sunday the teaching had been longer than usual, but now the crowd had dispersed. The Apostle, a man in his late sixties, was surrounded by a group of disciples, ever eager to receive some further enlightening from their teacher.
"Venerable One!" Gaius repeated in an effort to draw the Apostle's attention.
"Yes, my son," said the old man.
"You are always repeating that we should love one another. But how exactly should we go about doing it? Could you propose a particular method that one could follow step by step, so that one would know exactly when he has reached true charity?"
The Apostle smiled fondly at the young man.
"You are perhaps thinking that such method would make it easy for you, my son?"
Gaius, who was honest enough to admit when he had been outsmarted, laughed good-naturedly.
"Yes, something like that, Venerable One."
The old man reflected for a moment.
"Well," he said finally, "loving is the most difficult of all arts. So no method can make it easy. However, perhaps I can somewhat reduce
the difficulty for you."
He paused, marshalling his thoughts.
"There are three degrees of love, and in order to progress rapidly in this art in this art one should concentrate on the first degree before attempting the second one. Only after he has mastered the first degree should he concentrate on the second one. Likewise, only after he has
mastered the second degree should he concentrate on the third one. Thus he will gradually achieve his purpose and become a true child of God."
"That sounds wonderful," Gaius exclaimed enthusiastically. "I would like to follow your method, Venerable One, and begin right now."
The Apostle smiled at the youth's earnestness.
"Very well, my son. For now I will not disclose to you all at once what are those three degrees, for fear of discouraging you. When you think you have achieved the first degree, come back and I will reveal the second one to you."
Gaius nodded his agreement.
"The first degree of love," the old man said, "is reached when one would rather die than undertake the least harmful action against another
human being, whatever the circumstances."
In his inexperience Gaius thought that this should not be too difficult. So off he went, expecting to achieve his goal in a record time.
But, of course, he soon found out that never harming anyone is an arduous undertaking, especially when one is young and hot-blooded! However, after five years (by which time Gaius had become an apprentice cobbler in nearby Miletus), he had achieved his goal and returned to visit the Apostle for further guidance.
The latter welcomed him warmly and, after questioning him in detail on his efforts to achieve the first degree of love, showed himself fully satisfied.
"Well done, my son," he concluded at the end of his informal examination, "you are now ready to be told about the next step. This one will be more difficult, so prepare yourself for some hard work."
Gaius nodded. He was not so cocky now, having experienced far more difficulties in the pursuit of the first degree than he had anticipated.
"The second degree of love," John was saying, "is reached when you would rather die than utter the least harmful word against another human being, whatever the circumstance."
Gaius suspected that mastering one's tongue would be more difficult than his previous task, nevertheless he presumed that it would not take him
too long, given the fact that he had already made so much progress in charity.
But, of course, he was wrong. While many people abstain from uncharitable actions, very few abstain from uncharitable words, especially when talking about someone who is absent. Then, how easy it becomes to cast a shadow on the absentee's character, utter a malicious comment, drop a sly
innuendo - all in a genteel manner and with a knowing smile. Consequently, Gaius had a hard time of it and it took him ten years before he could report back to the Apostle.
The latter welcomed him most affectionately. He was now a very old man in his eighties. Gaius, on the other hand, had become a master cobbler and had opened his own shop in Miletus.
After a thorough investigation into Gaius' past performance in the matter of the second degree of love, John was completely satisfied and he wholeheartedly congratulated his pupil.
"Now," he said finally, "we come to the third and last degree of charity, the most difficult of all."
Gaius braced himself for what lay ahead, by now having lost a lot of his previous
self-assurance. Nevertheless, he figured that his past performance should enable him to face this last test easily enough, whatever it might be.
"The third degree of love," the Apostle said, "is reached when one would rather die than accept in his mind the least harmful thought against anyone, whatever the circumstance."
Gaius was puzzled.
"What do you mean, Venerable One? Am I to call good an evil action?"
"No, my son. On the contrary, you must judge a man's actions very objectively; that is according to their effects. But you must never judge a man's heart, his motives, the state of his soul before God. Whatever the appearances, you must always believe that the other person means well and is
therefore pleasing to God."
"But surely sometimes I will be wrong." Gaius objected.
"True," the old man conceded, "but what does it matter? We are not called to judge our brothers accurately but to love them greatly. Judgment belongs to God alone."
With the Apostle's blessing Gaius returned to Miletus and undertook to master the third degree of love. As he was to discover very soon, this was by far the most demanding task of all. But he set about it with all his energy, making progress as time went on - although experiencing also periods of stagnation or even backsliding. But he went doggedly, relying more and more on the strength of God and distrusting more and more his great weakness. Thus fifteen years passed. Gaius was now a middle-aged man, ever intent on mastering his thoughts.
One day from Ephesus came a messenger sent by John.
"The Venerable One is dying," he said, "and would want to know what progress you have made."
Gaius sped to John's bedside.
"Alas, Venerable One," he said, kneeling beside the bed of the Apostle, who was now almost a hundred years old, "I am still in pursuit of the third degree of love, despite these fifteen years of effort."
"What makes you say you have not reached your goal, my son?"
"Because Venerable One, now I realize that every person I meet is better than I am. And so, I no longer have any occasion to exercise true
charity of thought."
"Ah," the dying man exclaimed with a radiant countenance, "that is precisely the sign that you have reached the third degree of love!"
Gaius was dumbfounded.
"What do you mean, Venerable One?"
"When you see everyone you meet," John replied, "as better than you are, then indeed you
"When you see everyone you meet," John replied, "as better than you are, then indeed you have become perfectly loving, a true child of God."
And the Apostle embraced his disciple.
Shortly afterwards John died, surrounded by a throng of devoted followers. Among these Gaius stood out marvelously, outshining all the other
Christians by his kindness and humility. Not surprisingly then, he was unanimously elected to be the second bishop of Ephesus, a function he
fulfilled with great perfection. In fact, it was as if the Venerable One had continued to live on in Gaius.
The apprentice had mastered his craft.
