Apostolate: James Son of Alphaeus

Sitting with the Story of Hedy Lamarr (and James, Son of Alphaeus)

Let’s sit for a minute with the story of Hedy Lamarr—
like we might sit with a parable.
Let the layers of meaning and surprise unfold,
not rushing to any conclusion,
but peeking at and touching the texture,
scoping the overlooked,
hoping to find grace in the ordinary,
even when it might seem… extraordinary.

If you haven’t heard of Hedy Lamarr, she was born Hedwig Eva Maria Kiesler. She was an actress, a starlet in the 30s, 40s, and 50s. Her face was all over the silver screen during what some call the golden age of film. But underneath the glitz and Hollywood glamour, she was not content to just be a pretty face for film. What most didn’t know about her was that she was a tinkerer—a restless mind that couldn’t, and wouldn’t, stop having ideas about how to make things better.

While World War II was raging, she and her friend, composer George Antheil, came up with a clever way to keep enemy forces from messing with US torpedoes; it was called frequency hopping. This method, born of creativity and necessity, was the seed of the wireless technologies that would become cellular signal, WiFi, and GPS. Her work is partially responsible for the digital landscape of our modern world.

Up until recently, though, ask anyone what she was famous for, and 99 times out of 100, they would talk about her beauty or her films. Like so many prophets and poets, Lamarr’s gift was not received in her own time. Her patent was shelved, her intellect ignored, her name forgotten in the halls of invention. She was forgotten in the story of technology that she helped to write.

Her story is a parable of how those who serve, who create, who risk in obscurity—are often the ones who, in the fullness of time, shape the future.

The story of the gospel is good news for the forgotten, the overlooked, the ones who do not fit the world’s categories for success. Hedy’s story is not just about technology; it is about the call to live life using and valuing our gifts even when the world does not see or reward it.

James the son of Alphaeus must have known what it was like to give his all, make his contributions, and yet feel like he was a background character, unseen and unrecognized, when everyone else got to star in the story.

The Obscure Disciple: James, Son of Alphaeus

The scriptures we read—it took four passages to make enough text for a scripture reading from what little is said in the Bible about our James. We read this morning, truly, every single passage that includes him, and he isn’t central in any of them.

It begs the question:
Why is James, son of Alphaeus, not a bigger part of the scriptures?

We know a lot about Peter. We know a lot about John. We know enough about the other James. We even know a lot about Simon the Zealot—just by the merit of his name. We even know a lot about Judas…
But James, son of Alphaeus… Why not him?

First, the New Testament mentions several individuals named James, including James the son of Zebedee (one of the sons of Thunder) and James, the brother of Jesus (James the Just). Sometimes the Bible refers to a “James” without clarifying which one, adding to the ambiguity and making it difficult to attribute any specific actions or sayings to James son of Alphaeus. This confusion further contributes to his obscurity.

Further, scholars give their own reasons:

• He was not in Jesus’s inner circle.
  That was Peter, John, and the other James—James Z. They were included in the story of the transfiguration…

• He didn’t have a role in key leadership.
  He wasn’t like Peter and John, who were given the role of going ahead of Jesus and making preparations. He wasn’t like Andrew, often speaking for the rest of the disciples. He wasn’t even like Judas, the treasurer. Thank God. He may have been a leader, but he led in no way that set him apart.

• He was called James the Less.
  James Z was called Son of Thunder and James the Greater. James, brother of Jesus, was known as James the Just. James Alphaeus was James the Less (or younger)—perhaps because he was younger, or shorter, or simply less well-known.

• His role in the earliest church was seen as less important than Peter and John, to whom scripture is attributed.

• He didn’t leave any of his own stories or teachings behind for history.

Let’s pause here.

Let’s not rush past James, as so many have done.
Let’s sit with his story and let those layers of meaning and surprise unfold in this unsaid parable.

James, son of Alphaeus, is named in all four lists of the Twelve (Matthew 10:3, Mark 3:18, Luke 6:15, Acts 1:13).
But that’s almost all we get.
No sermons.
No miracles.
No dramatic moments.
Just a name—James, son of Alphaeus.

He may have been known as “the Less”—
But “less” doesn’t mean “unloved.”
And more importantly,
“Less” doesn’t mean “unfaithful.”
It just means quieter, humbler, more hidden from the spotlight.

Early church historians like Eusebius and Jerome sometimes tried to fill in the gaps, suggesting James the Less might be the same as James the brother of Jesus, or James the son of Mary (Mark 15:40)...
We don’t know any of that.

What we do know is that James, son of Alphaeus, was counted among the Twelve.
He was there at the beginning, called by Jesus.
He was there at the end, in the upper room after the resurrection (Acts 1:13).
He was there at Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit came and the church was born.

Now imagine this is you…
And someone is writing a biography of your family.
They talk at length about your mother, your father, your brother, your sister.
Then they even verge into the realm of your cousins, and they talk about each at length.
And yet the only line about you is…
“And she was there.” And he was there.

It is easy to feel invisible in a world that celebrates the loudest voices and the brightest stars.
It is easy to wonder whether showing up and being present counts for anything at all.

But scripture tells us that God sees what others overlook.
God saw James, even in his obscurity.
God called James, not because he would be famous, but because he would be faithful.
Perhaps, at the end of his life, when the roll was called, and all the stories were told, God said to James,
“Well done, my good and faithful servant.”

This story is a story that honors all who feel unseen.
It’s for all who show up, serve, and love in quiet ways.
For all who wonder if what they do matters.
If that’s you… this story is for you.

Conclusion: Grace in the Ordinary

Maybe you see yourself like Hedy or like James, son of Alphaeus—trying to live your life, to be faithful, to be present, and yet unnamed in the stories others tell.

To all who feel unseen or undervalued, remember:
God sees you. God knows you.
God knows your story.
God knows your faithfulness, your quiet service, your steadfast presence.

And to you, too, God says,
“Well done, my good and faithful servant.”

So may we find grace in the ordinary,
may we honor the quiet faithfulness of those around us,
and may we remember—sometimes, to simply be there
is to be exactly where God needs us to be.

May it be so.
In the name of Jesus Christ.

Amen.

Photo by hamza güner on Unsplash