Andrew the Apostle

The Calling of Peter and Andrew

As I was preparing this reflection about the college’s patron, I was drawn to the breadth of more than two millennia of stories about Andrew, the Apostle: St. Andrew. November 30^th is the traditional day that honours St. Andrew’s, also known as St. Andrew’s Christmas Novena, and continues through Advent.

The first place I could have focused on arises from the initial reference to the apostle, which we heard in the Gospel reading. The history that proceeds from then to today is rich, complicated, and fascinating. The historic tension between the primacy of authority between Peter and Andrew is intriguing.

In my Orthodox familial faith tradition, Andrew is known as the First-Called, Πρωτόκλητος, Prōtoklētos. The historic schism between Rome and the Eastern Church is captured in the reality that the apostolic successor to Andrew was the Patriarch of Constantinople. And should you want to refresh your memory or dig deep into new learning about the Christian journey, this is just one of those moments where we could have spent some time.  This, however, was not the story I decided to pursue for today.

What drew me begins with Andrew’s name, itself. As a people of the Word, we know that what we say has import, affects lives, and shapes the world we see. As we know from the epistle reading, the Word has to be shared, questioned, and explored. Sometimes we do not hear at first and so must welcome those who arrive in our midst with beautiful feet to share the Good News again.

Andrew’s name–its meaning—Brave is no exception. What does Andrew’s name’s meaning brave have to tell us in the 21^st century? A time in which the world’s change has accelerated with the pandemic. This is evident throughout our global and national political discourse and in our social commons.

If brave was the beginning, I was then drawn to Andrew’s crucifixion. Historically, Andrew was likely executed in the same manner as Jesus, thirty years later, in 60 CE in Patras. He died on the Latin cross, as opposed to the tradition of the X cross, which gained prominence in the Middle Ages and is depicted from flags to the college’s own crest and in the stained glass in the chapel.

So what do we mean by brave?
What do Andrew’s decisions,
almost twenty centuries later,
have to say to this college,
our Saskatoon Theological Union friends,
and our respective denominations?

I hear Andrew’s bravery echoing from his then to our now. Some of that bravery begins with intentionally asking questions. In the apocryphal Acts of Andrew, which are a collection of fragmented stories about Andrew’s ministry, his final ministry had him confronting and questioning the Proconsul Aegeates, a Roman official, who, similar to Pontius Pilate, attempted to negotiate his release from crucifixion to placate the crowds that demanded Andrew be spared. What strikes me in these scenes from the Acts, and the choices that Andrew made as he preached the Good News in Patras, was his interrogating Aegeates’ motives to spare him.

St. Andrew’s College

So, let’s pause for a moment. Andrew, with his life possibly about to be spared, having converted much of Aegeates’ household, including his wife, chose to confront the person who could release him from a gruesome execution. Let’s leave that choice and time travel forward to another person of import: Óengus II was a 9^th century king who promised to accept Andrew as Scotland’s patron, if the armies of the Picts and Scots defeated the Angles, who were Germanic Barbarians. With victory came the moment our patron was recognised, and the Gospel became further confused the with the success of violent military prowess.

What are our motivations as we consider
the world outside the chapel?
What clothes have we donned since Andrew’s
mythologised ascendancy as Scotland’s Patron?
What does Andrew’s bravery in challenging Proconsul Aegeates,
in 60 CE,
have to say to us today?

These are, I believe, fundamental questions that St. Andrew’s College as a place of learning and scholarship must continually consider. I also believe the implications resonate for our STU partners and denominations. These questions will not be answered in the short time in this sacred moment in which we are gathered. Let me offer, therefore, a few inklings that I believe portend some of the directions upon which we have already set ourselves.

St. Andrew’s College

In January of this year, the three STU partners signed a new covenant. Bravely, one aspect captures a commitment to decolonise ourselves and our institutions. This is a shared value that has also further enriched our relationship with St. Thomas More College and has already informed the work of the STU common faculty and the college’s Lifelong Learning Pathway. In St. Andrew’s Justice Policy, we also find echoes of our patron’s challenge to the proconsul to ask questions of motivation and to be open to critique, even if that means we might have to address our defensiveness when it feels threatening.

In the 9^th century, when bravery and martial proficiency merged, Christian motivations became further murkier, even when sharing the Good News, owing to our complicity in conquest and coloniality. By taking time to pause, as we enter the season of Advent, to ask Andrew what we might need to hear today, perhaps we might be encouraged in work well-done, and at the same time recognise that many questions remain. Our reading from Romans suggests that sometimes we do not initially hear the Good News and must repeatedly engage its wisdom.

And that continued engagement is the heart of our work here in this college, in the midst of the STU, and beyond these virtual and physical walls in God’s beloved wide world.  As we celebrate the Feast of St. Andrew, this questing and (re)questioning is a faithful pursuit that bravely emboldens us to be a compassionate presence in the chaotic world beyond.  May St. Andrew, and our Elder Brother Jesus, walk with us as we continue this journey, together.

May It Be So.