1. James's character is strikingly indicated by the surname which the Lord bestowed on him and his brother-“Boanerges, which is, Sons of thunder.” This strange appellation is found in Mar_3:17, and nowhere else in the New Testament. The derivation of the word is uncertain, some scholars holding that it means “sons of tumult” or “sons of rushing” (bĕnē-rĕĕ), others that it means “sons of anger,” “soon angered” (bĕē-rōgĕ). In any case, it seems to have been suggested to Jesus by the intense and enthusiastic nature, the fervent and irascible temper, of the two brothers. There is no reason whatever to suppose that it referred to the quality of their voices, though the name Boanerges is now popularly applied to a loud and powerful preacher. It did not once denote any physical trait, or any single characteristic of any kind, but referred to the whole disposition of the men-the ardent vehement spirit often latent in the depths of still and reserved natures, ordinarily held in strict control, but flaming forth on occasion with fierce, volcanic energy.
Dr. John Brown, author of Rab and His Friends, writing of his granduncle, Ebenezer Brown, the Seceder minister at Inverkeithing, whose gifts as a preacher so impressed Lord Jeffrey and Lord Brougham, says: “Uncle Ebenezer was always good and saintly, but he was great once a week; six days he brooded over his message, was silent, withdrawn, self-involved; on the Sabbath, that downcast, almost timid man, who shunned men, the instant he was in the pulpit, stood up a son of thunder. Such a voice! such a piercing eye! such an inevitable forefinger, held out trembling with the terrors of the Lord; such a power of asking questions and letting them fall deep into the hearts of his hearers, and then answering them himself, with an ‘ah, sirs!' that thrilled and quivered from him to them.”
An extract from the Meditations and Devotions which Newman wrote from time to time may be set down as having much of self-revelation:-
“Breathe on me with that Breath which infuses energy and kindles fervour. In asking for fervour, I ask for all that I can need, and all that Thou canst give; for it is the crown of all gifts and all virtues. It cannot really and fully be, except where all are present. It is the beauty and the glory, as it is also the continual safeguard and purifier, of them all. In asking for fervour, I am asking for effectual strength, consistency, and perseverance; I am asking for deadness to every human motive, and simplicity of intention to please Thee; I am asking for faith, hope, and charity in their most heavenly exercise. In asking for fervour I am asking to be rid of the fear of man, and the desire of his praise; I am asking for the gift of prayer, because it will be so sweet; I am asking for that loyal perception of duty, which follows on yearning affection; I am asking for sanctity, peace, and joy all at once. In asking for fervour, I am asking for the brightness of the Cherubim and the fire of the Seraphim, and the whiteness of all Saints. In asking for fervour, I am asking for that which, while it implies all gifts, is that in which I signally fail. Nothing would be a trouble to me, nothing a difficulty, had I but fervour of soul.”1 [Note: W. Ward, The Life of John Henry Cardinal Newman, i. 367.]
2. Jesus did not avoid fervent men; on the contrary, He enlisted them in His service, He chose them as His intimate friends. What a work for His Kingdom they could do, if once the impetuous current of their lives was turned into another channel! Harness the forked lightning that flashes from a stormcloud, or the raging torrent that thunders over a precipice, and these mighty forces will beneficently light and heat whole cities. And man's native endowment of untamed energy, like Nature's own mechanical powers, is at first neutral in quality, all its moral value depending on the character of his aims or ideals, and the spirit in which he pursues them. Remember how the same Jew of Tarsus who confesses that his zeal at one time made him a persecutor of the Church yet declares that “it is good to be zealously sought in a good matter at all times,” and that Christ's purpose in giving Himself for us is to purify unto Himself a people for His own possession, zealous of good works. The passionate heart, therefore, needs only to find its destined object, its true affinity, in order to purify and hallow and perfect itself. Then the enthusiastic temperament will resemble that of Jesus Himself, of whom it is recorded that the zeal of God's house consumed Him.
Jesus, let it be repeated, chose as His favourite disciples men of a fervent spirit, capable of an intense devotion and a self-sacrificing love. And has not all the best work ever attempted for humanity-the quiet, steady, patient, unintermittent labour which has made the world a better place for us all to live in-been done by men and women in whose hearts has burned a hidden fire, purified into a passion of holy love for Christ and His Kingdom? Therefore in days of doubt we must ever pray-
Oh, bring us back once more
The vanished days of yore,
When the world with faith was filled;
Bring back the fervid zeal,
The hearts of fire and steel,
The hands that believe and build.
Dr. Chalmers was an enthusiast in its true and good sense; he was “entheat,” as if full of God, as the old poets called it. It was this ardour-this superabounding life, this immediateness of thought and action, idea and emotion, setting the whole man agoing at once-that gave a power and a charm to everything he did.… His energy, his contagious enthusiasm-this it was which gave the peculiar character to his religion, to his politics, to his personnel; everything he did was done heartily-if he desired heavenly blessings, he “panted” for them-“his soul broke for the longing.” To give the words of the spiritual and subtle Culverwel in his “Light of Nature”: “Religion (and indeed everything else) was no matter of indifferency to him. It was θερμὸν τι πρᾶγμα, a certain fiery thing, as Aristotle calls love; it required and it got, the very flower and vigour of the spirit-the strength and sinews of the soul-the prime and top of the affections-this is that grace, that panting grace-we know the name of it and that's all-'tis called zeal-a flaming edge of the affection-the ruddy complexion of the soul.”1 [Note: Dr. John Brown, Horæ Subsecivæ, ii. 127.]
