Note: On Tuesdays and some Sundays, you can find me at Your Daily Tripod, owned by my friend TonyD. A longer version of the post below appears there.
So they proposed two, Joseph called Barsabbas, who was also known as Justus, and Matthias. Then they prayed, “You, Lord, who know the hearts of all, show
which one of these two you have chosen to take the place in this apostolic ministry from which Judas turned away to go to his own place.” Then they gave lots to them, and the lot fell upon Matthias, and he was counted with the eleven apostles.They drew lots. Matthias was selected to join the apostles. (Acts 1:23-26, NABRE)
They drew lots. Matthias was selected to join the apostles.
But what of Joseph, called Barsabbas?
We never hear of him again in the New Testament. (He’s not to be confused with Judas, called Barsabbas, who later along with Silas is chosen to go to Antioch with Paul and Barnabas.)
The general thinking is that he was among the seventy-two disciples mentioned in Luke 10:1. Surely, to have been proposed as an apostle, he must have been regarded as holy and Spirit-filled. There’s a story that he once drank poison and didn’t even get sick. There’s also some thought that he became a bishop and suffered a martyr’s death. But we don’t know.
Was Barsabbas disappointed, or did he immediately go to Matthias and congratulate him? Did he protest that it wasn’t fair, and ask the others to go best two out of three and cast lots again? Did he go home and sulk? Did he stop believing?
I’d like to think the others reassured Barsabbas of his value to the community, and that he shrugged it off and soldiered on, continuing to spread the Good News. After all, he didn’t need to be one of the Twelve to do that.
I like this man of whom we know so little, this footnote of Christian history. After all, things don’t always turn out the way we’d like either. Maybe we run for Parish Council and lose, or we volunteer a lot of time and treasure to a humanitarian organization—and yet someone we know, just know, didn’t do as much is chosen as the benefit dinner’s honoree. Maybe it’s something more personal that we’ve prayed and prayed and prayed for, and the answer we keep getting is “not now,” “no,” or just silence.
It can be tempting to come up with a way to pay back our community (not to mention God) for these perceived injustices and slights, a way that may involve a lot of passive-aggressiveness. The temptation to do so is only human. But instead, may we find the faith and grace to shrug it off and soldier on, remembering it is He, not our name on a program or plaque, who determines our worth.
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