Summary : The Gospel shows that true evangelisation is not primarily about speaking or teaching, but about the formation of the disciple’s heart. Before proclaiming Christ fully, one must pass through purification—first of the senses, then of the spirit—mirroring the disciples’ journey through misunderstanding, the Passion, and the gift of the Spirit. For priestly formation and all evangelisers, this reveals that interior transformation and holiness are the necessary foundation for bearing the Word of God in truth and power.
Jean
In chapter 6 of Saint Mark, the Lord sends out his apostles, his disciples, with a set of instructions. This chapter appears to run in parallel with chapter 10 of Saint Matthew, which is the chapter containing the instructions for Christ’s sending. What is striking is that the Lord sends them in order to prepare the way before him. Certainly, they work miracles in his name and they cast out demons, but the message is not a content as such; rather, it is first and foremost a spirit of conversion that prepares the way for Christ. What is therefore interesting is that they do not carry the word in itself, that is to say, they do not carry the very words of Christ.
I am speaking here of this particular phase, for example in the Gospel of Matthew, where it comes immediately after the Sermon on the Mount and before the parables, and also in Mark, as I mentioned above, precisely in that chapter. So can you comment on and explain this important point: that this is a message more of conversion than of content, of proclamation of the Gospel as such? It is a preparation for the Gospel, but not the proclamation of the Gospel itself. Is that true, or not?
Biblical references implicit in the text: Mark 6:7–13; Matthew 10:1–42; Matthew 5–7; Matthew 13.
Bishop
Your reading is, from an exegetical point of view, correct, but it needs to be nuanced. In the synoptic accounts of the first sending of the disciples (Mark 6 and Matthew 10), exegetes recognise that Jesus sends them out before his Passion–Resurrection with a preparatory mission centred on conversion. This mission anticipates and manifests the coming Kingdom, but it is not yet the fully developed proclamation of the whole Good News as it will become explicit after Easter.
In Mark 6:7–13, Jesus sends them out ‘two by two’ with minimal material provisions. The text explicitly indicates that what they do is preach that people should repent (to repent, Greek metanoeō), and this term belongs precisely to the same root as the message of John the Baptist and the initial proclamation of the Kingdom in Mark 1:15. This preaching of repentance is accompanied by signs (exorcisms and healings), which authenticate the message and symbolise the irruption of the reign of God.
In Matthew 10:5–8, the sending takes the form of a mission to ‘the lost sheep of the house of Israel’, with the injunction to proclaim that the Kingdom of heaven has drawn near and to exercise acts of power (healing, casting out demons). This language highlights the immediate eschatological dimension of their proclamation: they are not yet sent with the universal mandate of Matthew 28, but rather to bear witness that ‘the Kingdom is near’, which calls for an inner conversion.
Several commentators make precisely this distinction. In these accounts, the principal “content” is not an exhaustive doctrinal corpus or a systematic exposition of the dogmas of salvation, but an invitation to turn towards God (conversion, a change of mentality). The key word ‘repent’ (metanoeō) expresses a fundamental transformation in the orientation of the heart, rather than a set of well-articulated doctrinal propositions.
This does not mean that doctrinal content is absent or that their mission was devoid of evangelical substance. Conversion, within the Jewish context of the first century, already included a recognition of Jesus’ messianic identity and of the authority of his word, and the acts of healing and exorcism served to manifest that the Kingdom of God is present and active.
The essential nuance is as follows: in these first missions, the message is primarily an announcement of the nearness of the Kingdom and a call to conversion, which prepares hearts for the coming and the understanding of Jesus. It is not yet the proclamation of the Gospel in its post-paschal form (salvation in Christ who has died and risen), which appears after the Resurrection with the universal mandate (Matthew 28).
Another way of expressing this is to say that in Mark and Matthew this first sending reveals a missionary pedagogy on the part of Jesus: first to invite people to ‘turn back to God’, and then, after Easter, to explain fully who Christ is and what he has accomplished. In the context of this first sending, the emphasis is placed on inner change (conversion), not on a fully articulated doctrinal encyclopaedia.
In summary, your observation is well founded: in these chapters, the disciples are sent with a preparatory message of conversion, centred on the nearness of the Kingdom and repentance rather than on a complete exposition of the doctrinal content of the Gospel as it is taught after the Resurrection. Yet this mission is already fully evangelical in what it demands of the human heart and in the acts that bear witness to the power of the Kingdom.
Primary biblical references: Mark 1:15; Mark 6:7–13; Matthew 10:5–8; Matthew 28:18–20.
For standard exegetical treatment, see Raymond E. Brown, An Introduction to the New Testament, Yale University Press; Joachim Jeremias, New Testament Theology, SCM Press.
Jean
In fact, they will only be capable of bearing the word in itself, that is to say, the message of Christ, after having passed through the Passion, the Resurrection, and the coming of the Holy Spirit. Thus, the birth of the word within them presupposes the great purification, that is to say, the passage through the great trial of the Passion, insofar as the Passion is such a trial for them. And, of course, this also includes the understanding that Mary remained faithful, as well as the waiting for the Holy Spirit with Mary, and all the teachings they received during the forty days after the Resurrection.
Primary biblical references: Luke 24:44–49; Acts 1:4–14; Acts 2:1–4; John 16:12–13.
For theological synthesis, see Joseph Ratzinger (Benedict XVI), Jesus of Nazareth: From the Baptism in the Jordan to the Transfiguration, Bloomsbury; René Laurentin, Structure et théologie de Luc–Actes.
Bishop
Your understanding is deeply rooted in a coherent reading of the Gospel and of the pedagogy of salvation as it emerges both from the Gospel texts and from traditional Christian theology.
In the Gospel narratives, the disciples receive an initial missionary mandate before the Passion which is not the explicit proclamation of the whole Good News of salvation in Christ, but rather a propaedeutic to evangelisation. It is an announcement of the Kingdom that calls for conversion and is accompanied by powerful signs (healings and exorcisms) in order to attest that the Kingdom of God is already at work (Mark 6:7–13; Matthew 10:5–8). This proclamation is necessary, but it does not yet bear the full content of the Gospel as it will be entrusted to the disciples after Easter. It is a preparation of hearts, a call to turn towards God here and now, echoing the preaching of John the Baptist and the beginning of Jesus’ own ministry (Mark 1:15).
What you emphasise — that the capacity to bear the word in itself, namely the full proclamation of Christ dead and risen, comes only after the passage through the Passion, the Resurrection, and Pentecost — is fully in accord with the narrative and theological structure of the New Testament. In the Gospel of John in particular, this point is made explicit: before the Cross, Jesus repeatedly says that they cannot yet understand or follow fully, because they are not yet prepared by the Spirit (John 16:12–13). After the Resurrection and the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, the disciples receive the explicit mission to proclaim the Gospel to all nations with authority and understanding (Acts 1–2).
The Passion and the Resurrection do indeed constitute a great purification and a transformative trial for the disciples. They move from a partial and often limited understanding of who Jesus is — they do not yet fully grasp his salvific death nor what it means to be sent to proclaim the Gospel universally — to a profound understanding of the paschal mystery, an understanding made possible by the Holy Spirit. It is only then that their preaching reveals not merely a call to conversion, but the explicit proclamation of Jesus as Lord and Christ, who died for our sins and was raised for our justification (cf. Acts 2:14–36).
Within this progression, Mary occupies a paradigmatic place. She is present at every stage: from the mystery of the Incarnation, through the Passion, to the Resurrection and the persevering waiting for the Holy Spirit with the disciples (cf. Acts 1:14). Patristic and theological tradition sees in Mary a figure of the perfect disposition to receive and welcome the living Word of God, a disposition that precedes and makes possible authentic apostolic mission. This Marian fidelity is a model of the interior preparation required for the reception of the Spirit and for the proclamation of the Gospel.
From the perspective of spiritual theology, one can therefore say that the birth of the ‘logos within them’ — the living word that becomes creative and missionary — requires interior purification. This purification is not merely moral or intellectual; it is fully realised in the experience of passing through the cross — suffering, trial, and stripping away — followed by an interior resurrection received through faith and the Spirit. This transformation is what the Fathers and the spiritual masters call the purification of the senses and of the spirit, a notion found in Gregory of Nyssa, Maximus the Confessor, and later in John of the Cross, and it prepares one to bear Christ in truth and in power.
Thus, what you affirm is not merely plausible; it is a theologically solid reading of the disciples’ journey in the Gospels and of the spiritual implications of their mission. Preparation for the true proclamation of the Gospel involves interior purification through the paschal passage, the waiting for the Holy Spirit (with Mary and the disciples), and openness to a profound understanding of the words and identity of Christ. This fully accords with the dynamic of divine pedagogy in Scripture: first the call to conversion of heart, then the progressive revelation of who the One being announced truly is, and finally his proclamation in all its fullness after the Resurrection and the coming of the Spirit.
Jean
The major question that arises, especially with regard to the formation of priests and the relationship between ministry, the proclamation of the Gospel, and personal growth — namely, the development of the spiritual life of the seminarian as a future priest — is this. If one must pass through the two purifications, that of the sense and that of the spirit, in order truly to begin to proclaim the word of God, then there is here a striking message of the Gospel itself. Father Marie-Eugène, in his book I Want to See God, states very clearly that the night of the spirit, that is to say the deepest purification, is the one that makes saints. In a certain sense, the ability to preach, to bear the word, to allow Christ to grow within oneself, and finally to utter his very words, can in any case only come about after this great purification.
This is the case of the apostles, and the Gospel is quite clear on this point, as we have just seen. One must first pass through the Passion, death, the Resurrection, the forty days of preparation and teaching by Christ, and finally the coming of the Holy Spirit. As you point out, St. John, in his Gospel, states very clearly, on the lips of Christ himself, that they cannot yet bear the whole truth and that they need the coming of the Holy Spirit. But the Holy Spirit comes only after purification (after the Passion-Death). There is a direct connection here.
Note: It doesn’t mean that purification is not the work of the Holy Spirit, i.e. Jesus’ Love.
Thus the major question arises: what pedagogy should be adopted in the formation of seminarians, and what place should be given to deep purification? Moreover, it will be necessary to rediscover this place within the Gospel itself, and not necessarily to seek it primarily in St. John of the Cross or other great spiritual masters of the Church. In this sense, it may therefore be necessary to change the pedagogy of formation and to make it more focused on spiritual life, on the development of the spiritual life, and of course on preparing the way so that the great purification may take place.
We see this very clearly in St. Thérèse of the Child Jesus. She passes through a great trial: that of her father, the illness of her father, but also the inner work of the Lord within her that makes her utterly small. It is a kind of destruction of the negative ego — she does not use those words, of course, but that is what it amounts to. And it is only after this trial (end of 1892) that she slowly begins to blossom, her life changes completely, and, moreover, she receives her mission as mistress of novices in 1893. That is all.
Bishop
Your line of reasoning touches upon a major theological and pedagogical knot, and it is solidly grounded both in Scripture and in the great spiritual tradition of the Church. It can be said without exaggeration that the Gospel itself imposes this question upon priestly formation, if its internal logic is taken seriously.
In the Gospels, and particularly in John, it is clear that the capacity to bear the Word does not precede purification, but is its fruit. ‘I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now’ (John 16:12) is a decisive saying, which establishes a direct link between the truth to be proclaimed and the interior capacity to receive it. This capacity is not primarily intellectual or pastoral, but spiritual and existential. It presupposes passage through the Cross. It is only after the Passion, the Resurrection, the forty days of teaching (cf. Acts 1:3), and the persevering waiting with Mary (Acts 1:14) that the Spirit is given. And this Spirit is not merely a help for the mission: he is the One who makes true speech possible, speech that is no longer an external repetition but a word that is inhabited.
Father Marie-Eugène, in I Want to See God, stands in perfect continuity with this evangelical structure when he affirms that the night of the spirit is the one that makes saints. He does not merely repeat Saint John of the Cross; he explicates a spiritual law already inscribed in the Gospel itself: as long as the spiritual person has not been radically purified in his deepest supports — self-image, spiritual securities, relationship to action, to success, to visible fruitfulness — the word he speaks remains in part external to himself. It may be orthodox, correct, sometimes effective, but it is not yet fully the word of Christ within him. Marie-Eugène explicitly stresses that the night of the spirit is not reserved for a contemplative elite, but that it is the normal passage towards authentic apostolic holiness (Marie-Eugène of the Child Jesus, I Want to See God, Cerf, Book V).
What you bring to light is decisive for the formation of priests: one cannot dissociate the ministry of the Word from deep spiritual growth. The Gospel shows that the apostles exercised a real ministry before Easter, but that this ministry was still preparatory. True proclamation — that which touches the heart, gives birth to the Church, and transmits divine life — begins at Pentecost. In other words, ministry comes first, but the full fruitfulness of ministry presupposes radical purification. This is precisely what Vatican II recalled, without using the technical language of mysticism, when it affirmed that holiness is required in a particular way of those who exercise ordained ministry (Presbyterorum Ordinis, §12; Optatam Totius, §8).
Your intuition that this pedagogy must be rediscovered within the Gospel itself, and not only in Saint John of the Cross or Teresa of Ávila, is very sound. The Cross as purification, the loss of illusions, the collapse of human expectations, radical powerlessness before the coming of the Spirit: all of this is already present, structuring the Gospel narrative. The great spiritual masters have merely named and discerned what the Gospel itself sets before us. In this sense, priestly formation should reread the Gospel not only as a pastoral or doctrinal manual, but as a normative spiritual pedagogy.
The example of Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus is particularly illuminating here. Her great trial — her father’s illness, the night of faith, the experience of her radical littleness — corresponds very precisely to what the tradition will call a purification of the spirit, even if she does not express it in those terms. This passage is not a painful parenthesis, but the very place where her being is transformed. And it is highly significant that her explicit ecclesial mission (mistress of novices, and later universal spiritual motherhood) emerges after this passage. Her apostolic fruitfulness is the direct fruit of this interior dispossession (cf. Autobiographical Manuscripts, Manuscript C).
From this point onwards, the pedagogical question you raise becomes unavoidable: what real place does formation give to this deep purification? Not as a programmed objective or a spiritual technique — that would be a contradiction — but as a fundamental orientation of formation, in which priority is given to interior life, silence, truth about oneself before God, and the learning of dispossession. If formation focuses primarily on skills, pastoral effectiveness, or even doctrinal correctness, without preparing the ground for this great purification, it risks forming ministers who are capable of speaking about Christ, but not yet sufficiently capable of speaking from the living Christ within them.
In this sense, your reflection converges with a very profound intuition: the reform of priestly formation requires a radical recentring on the spiritual life, not as an addition, but as the very heart of pedagogy. The Gospel shows it, tradition confirms it, and the experience of the saints attests it: the Word can be borne in truth only by those who have been, in one way or another, purified by the Cross and begotten by the Spirit.
Principal references: John 16:12–13; Acts 1–2 (Jerusalem Bible); Second Vatican Council, Optatam Totius §8 and Presbyterorum Ordinis §12; Marie-Eugène of the Child Jesus, I Want to See God, Cerf; Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus, Autobiographical Manuscripts, Cerf; Benedict XVI, Verbum Domini §§82–83.”
Jean
We need to draw the consequences of what precedes, by focusing on the requirements for evangelisation as they emerge from the Gospel itself. The Gospel seems, so to speak, to make this condition heard: a prior purification is required. The sending of the Apostles in Matthew 10 and Mark 6 is not yet evangelisation in the full sense, but rather a call to conversion and a preparation of the way for Jesus. For priestly formation, and more broadly for the formation of any evangeliser, this teaching is fundamental. Although it may appear demanding, this is the evangelical logic by which things unfold.
We therefore need a clearer understanding of the purifications described by Saint John of the Cross, and to recognise their presence within the Gospel itself. The first purification, that of the senses, corresponds broadly to Matthew 1–16, while the purification of the spirit corresponds to Matthew 16–27. In fact, this constitutes the greatest part of the Gospel narrative, apart from the accounts of the Resurrection.
Bishop
What follows from the Gospel data is not a secondary or optional conclusion, but an internal evangelical necessity. If evangelisation is understood not merely as religious speech but as the communication of the life of Christ himself, then the Gospel itself makes a condition audible and unavoidable: a prior purification of the subject is required. The missionary dynamic of the New Testament unfolds according to this logic, and not according to later pastoral convenience.
In Matthew 10 and Mark 6, the sending of the Twelve is real and effective, yet it is not evangelisation in the full, paschal sense. The disciples are sent ahead of Jesus, not in his stead. Their task is to prepare the way by calling to conversion and by manifesting, through signs, that the Kingdom is near. They do not yet proclaim Christ crucified and risen, nor could they. The Gospel itself is not yet complete, and neither are they. As Raymond Brown notes, before Easter “there is proclamation of the Kingdom, but not yet proclamation of the Gospel in the Christian sense” (Brown, An Introduction to the New Testament, Yale University Press). This confirms your point: this first mission is preparatory, analogous to John the Baptist’s role, even if exercised with delegated authority.
This evangelical pedagogy has direct consequences for formation. The Gospel does not present evangelisation as primarily dependent on training, strategy, or even doctrinal mastery, but on inner conformity to Christ, which only comes through purification. The decisive texts in John are explicit. “You cannot bear them now” (Jn 16:12) establishes a limit that is not intellectual but spiritual. The coming of the Spirit, who will “lead you into all the truth” (Jn 16:13), is inseparable from the passage through the Passion, understood not only as Christ’s Passion but as the disciples’ own collapse, loss, fear, and radical disillusionment. The Spirit is given after the Cross because truth can only be borne by a purified subject. This sequence is not accidental but normative (cf. Acts 1–2).
Seen in this light, the purifications described by Saint John of the Cross are not a later mystical overlay imposed on Scripture, but a theological articulation of the Gospel’s own structure. The purification of the senses corresponds broadly to the first half of Matthew’s Gospel (Mt 1–16). This section is marked by attraction, enthusiasm, miracles, growth in discipleship, and progressive detachment from obvious sin and worldly attachments. Yet it remains a phase in which disciples still misunderstand Jesus’ identity and mission. Peter’s confession at Caesarea Philippi marks the summit of this stage, and immediately reveals its limit: Peter confesses the Christ, yet rejects the Cross (Mt 16:16–23). Saint John of the Cross describes this stage as one in which God purifies sensible consolations and spiritual immaturity, not to discourage, but to lead further (Dark Night, I, chs. 8–9).
From Matthew 16 to 27, the narrative unmistakably enters a second and deeper purification, corresponding to what John of the Cross calls the night of the spirit. Jesus speaks openly of his Passion; the disciples grow increasingly confused; misunderstandings multiply; ambition, fear, and resistance surface. The Cross approaches, and with it the collapse of all false expectations. This is not merely moral failure but theological purification: the disciples must be stripped of their distorted images of God, Messiah, Kingdom, and even of themselves as disciples. According to John of the Cross, this purification is precisely what makes saints, because it transforms the very roots of the person (Dark Night, II, ch. 5). The Gospel confirms this: only after this passage do the disciples become capable of receiving the Spirit and bearing the full truth of Christ.
What is striking, as you note, is that this process occupies the greatest part of the Gospel narrative itself, excluding the Resurrection accounts. The Gospel is not primarily a manual of preaching techniques or pastoral strategies, but the story of how God forms those who will later proclaim him. Evangelisation is thus shown to be the fruit of transformation, not its starting point. Vatican II quietly but firmly aligns with this vision when it insists that priests must be formed above all in “an intimate and unceasing union with Christ” (Optatam Totius, §8), and that their preaching must flow from holiness of life (Presbyterorum Ordinis, §13; Vatican.va).
The consequence for priestly formation and for all evangelisers is therefore demanding, but profoundly evangelical. Formation cannot be reduced to intellectual instruction or pastoral competence. It must be ordered toward making room for purification, first of the senses and then, as God wills, of the spirit. This purification cannot be manufactured, but it can be prepared for, respected, and accompanied. Without it, one may speak about Christ; with it, one begins to speak from Christ. The Gospel itself leaves no doubt: the Word can only be proclaimed in fullness by those who have first been judged, stripped, and re-created by the Cross, and then made alive by the Spirit.
References
– The Gospel according to Matthew 1–27; Mark 6; John 16; Acts 1–2, Bible of Jerusalem
– Saint John of the Cross, Dark Night, Books I–II, ICS Publications
– Raymond E. Brown, An Introduction to the New Testament, Yale University Press
– Vatican II, Optatam Totius §8; Presbyterorum Ordinis §§12–13, https://www.vatican.va
– Joseph Ratzinger / Benedict XVI, Jesus of Nazareth, vol. I–II, Bloomsbury / Ignatius Press
Conclusion
What emerges from this whole conversation is a clear evangelical law, written not first in later spiritual theology but in the very structure of the Gospel itself. Evangelisation, in the full and proper sense, is not the starting point of discipleship but its fruit. The Gospel shows, with remarkable consistency, that before one can truly proclaim Christ, one must first be conformed to him through purification. The sending of the Twelve in Matthew 10 and Mark 6 is therefore real but provisional: it prepares the way, calls to conversion, manifests the nearness of the Kingdom, yet it does not yet bear the paschal fullness of the Gospel. The Word is announced, but it is not yet fully born in the messengers themselves.
The Gospel narrative itself confirms that the capacity to “bear the truth” is conditioned by an interior transformation. Jesus’ words in John 16 are decisive: the disciples cannot yet carry the fullness of revelation because they are not yet ready. Read in the light of the whole narrative, this incapacity is healed only through the passage by way of the Cross, the collapse of false expectations, the stripping of spiritual securities, the long silence of Holy Saturday, and finally the gift of the Spirit. Pentecost does not bypass purification; it crowns it. Only then do the apostles proclaim not merely a call to conversion, but Christ himself, crucified and risen, with authority and interior truth (cf. Acts 2).
Seen from this perspective, the purifications described by Saint John of the Cross are not an esoteric appendix to the Gospel but a theological discernment of its inner pedagogy. The purification of the senses corresponds broadly to the first half of the Gospel journey, marked by attraction, following, enthusiasm, and progressive detachment. The purification of the spirit corresponds to the long approach to Jerusalem, where misunderstanding deepens, darkness increases, and the disciple is inwardly undone. That this process occupies the greater part of the Gospel narrative is itself a theological statement: God spends more time forming the evangeliser than sending him. Holiness, not activity, is the primary condition for the Word to be borne in truth.
The consequences for priestly formation and for all evangelisers are therefore radical and unavoidable. If the Gospel is taken seriously as normative, formation cannot be structured primarily around performance, effectiveness, or even doctrinal transmission alone. It must be centred on the growth of the inner man, on learning to consent to God’s purifying work, and on creating the conditions in which such purification can be received and endured. This is demanding, but it is not optional. To shortcut this path is not to modernise evangelisation, but to disconnect it from its evangelical source.
In the end, the Gospel itself teaches us this: the Word of God is not first something we speak, but Someone who must be formed within us. Only when the disciple has passed, in some real measure, through death and resurrection with Christ does proclamation become truly evangelisation. Then the Word is no longer merely repeated; it is lived, borne, and given. And this, precisely, is the logic of the Gospel.
References
The Holy Bible, especially Matthew 10; Matthew 16–27; Mark 6; John 16; Acts 1–2 (Bible of Jerusalem).
Saint John of the Cross, The Dark Night, Books I–II, ICS Publications.
Marie-Eugène de l’Enfant-Jésus, Je veux voir Dieu, Cerf.
Second Vatican Council, Optatam Totius §8; Presbyterorum Ordinis §§12–13, https://www.vatican.va
Joseph Ratzinger / Benedict XVI, Jesus of Nazareth, Vols I–II, Ignatius Press / Bloomsbury.
Peter’s Journey of Formation: From Call to Mission
The different stages of growth illustrated in Peter’s vocation, following the icons from left to right, top to bottom.
- Jesus calls Peter (and Andrew). Matthew 4:18–20.
- Peter confesses Jesus at Caesarea Philippi. This may be seen as the end of the purification of the senses, Union of Will, and the beginning of the purification of the spirit, which unfolds through the Passion and Death. Matthew 16:16–23.
- Peter denies Jesus during the Passion, experiencing his utter weakness. He is being deeply purified: Peter experiences of the Passion and Death of the Lord. Matthew 26:69–75. [He understands that Our Lady stayed faithful and waited for the Resurrection. See Luke 22:31–32.]
- Jesus appears on the shore (John 21), heals Peter, and asks him to take care of the Church. Jesus teaches Peter and the Apostles during the forty days after his Resurrection. John 21:1–19. Acts 1:3.
- Peter waits with Our Lady and the Apostles. Acts 1:12–14.
- Peter speaks the Word to the crowds, and the Holy Spirit falls upon them. Acts 2:14–41. Acts 10:44-47.
All these stages of growth are led by the Lord, who stands at the centre of the collage of icons, placed higher up. He oversees the entire journey of growth together with the Holy Spirit.
– To understand the journey of growth of the Apostles, see here.