Sons and Daughters of Thunder

Whenever the Bishop saw Elizabeth and me together at some diocesan event, he would say, “Well, this looks like trouble.”  At first, I thought he was kidding, but I am pretty sure that he knew we were not to be trifled with. Elizabeth was more courageous than me and worried less about what others thought. But when we were together, she inspired me to feel braver and stronger. She had my back and I had hers. 

This is not to say that we didn’t disagree on things. We absolutely did and sometimes in big ways—but what grounded our friendship was a ferocious loyalty to one another and an intensity that some people considered “a little much.”  When we started our Irreverent Prayers book together, I knew it would be powerful. Not because I had much confidence in myself but because I had confidence in us and what we could create together. 

Today we celebrate the Feast of John, the patron saint of friendship and writers. The writing part makes sense to me, but when I began this post, I was a little unsure why he is also considered the patron saint of friendship. Most of what we know of John comes from the Gospels. There are also books of the Bible attributed to him, but most scholars agree that the apostle did not write them. He is assumed to be the person referred to as Jesus’ beloved disciple in the Gospel of John. Maybe his status as the beloved is why he’s the patron saint of friendship. I kept that in mind as I reread the parts of the Gospels when he appeared, but soon realized that there were all kinds of examples of John as not just a disciple but a friend.  

My favorite story about John is in the Gospel of Luke.  As the disciples are on their way to Jerusalem, they pass through a Samaritan village where the people refuse to welcome Jesus. When James and John hear about it, they ask, “Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” They receive a stern rebuke from Jesus, but I wonder if, deep down, Jesus was just a little grateful to have two friends so defensive of him. Whenever I was upset with someone, Elizabeth offered to punch them for me. We both knew Elizabeth would never actually punch anyone, but the sentiment behind her offer was gratifying nonetheless. I knew that the person who had hurt me now had a new enemy, and I pitied whoever was Elizabeth’s enemy. 

In the Gospel of Mark, Jesus gives James and John the nickname “The Sons of Thunder.”  I never really put much thought into what Sons of Thunder might mean, but because Jesus didn’t give other disciples nicknames, it must mean something. Right? Jesus liked to change people’s names, but I am fairly sure this is the only nickname he bestows. There are a few examples in the Gospels when we see James and John being a little impetuous and a little too concerned about glory and power. But for me, when I think of John, I imagine him standing at the foot of the cross, the only male disciple who stays and watches Jesus die. From the cross, Jesus asks John to take care of his mother after his death. Jesus knows that while John is passionate, bold, and perhaps a little too fiery at times, he is also the friend who will always come through. Elizabeth was that person for me and I pray that I was that person for her as well. 

It is believed that John was the only disciple who lived to an old age, perhaps so he could finish his writing and all the work God called him to do. Elizabeth died decades before she should have. She had so much more to preach, to write, to photograph, to love…so many more people to threaten with punches. I will never stop mourning Elizabeth’s death, but one of my consolations is the vision I have of Elizabeth constantly harassing God, making sure that all her family and friends on earth are taken care of. When I was a child, I remember hearing that thunder signified God’s anger. Now, I just imagine Elizabeth knocking heads together out of passionate, bold, and perhaps a little too fiery love.