Fishers of Men

by Gerald N. Lund

  “No. I’ll take Phineas or one of the other servants.”

  Shana was also nodding her head. “Yes, a servant will be sufficient. Galilee is not like Judea. Our roads are safe. There is no danger.”

  “Can I go to Beth Neelah, Papa?” Joseph asked.

  His father turned and looked at Deborah. “We can do without Joseph,” he said.

  She nodded. “I would like that.” Then she turned to Shana. “Would you like something to eat?”

  “No. I brought some bread and fruit to eat on the road.”

  “Then let’s get you to bed. I would like to be off again at first light.”

  III

  18 May, a.d. 30

  For the third time in as many days, the family ate a cold breakfast together. David had finally sent Phineas and two other servants with Deborah. One of those was the cook. In their absence, Leah offered to cook something for her father and Simeon each day, but they were satisfied with bread and cheese or some dried grapes and olives. On this morning, Simeon and Leah were just finishing cleaning up the meal when David poked his head into the kitchen. “I’m going to go down to the fishing boats,” he said. “Peter and Andrew took their boat out last night. I need to check on their catch.”

  Simeon turned. “I thought Peter and Andrew were with Jesus and not fishing anymore.”

  “They were with Jesus two nights ago when I last saw them. But I was walking along the shore last night and saw that their boat was gone. They still have to make a living and support their families.” He paused for a moment. “If you two will gather up the books and papers here, I’ll meet you at the storehouse in about an hour.”

  “Can I go with you, Papa?” Leah said, drying her hands on a small towel. “Simeon, you can bring the books and things, can’t you?”

  “Of course.”

  “I would like that,” David said, pleased to have some company. “Let me get my walking sandals, and we’ll be off.”

  IV

  “Papa?”

  “Yes?”

  “May I ask you a question?”

  “Of course.”

  They were just leaving the village and starting down the path that led to the beach. They were walking slowly, enjoying the freshness of the morning.

  “Do you believe that Jesus is the Messiah?”

  He answered without hesitation. “Yes.”

  “In spite of what he said about loving the Romans?”

  He nodded. “And in a way, because of what he said about the Romans.”

  “Why?”

  He peered at her, pleased to see that she really wanted to know. “The more I have thought about it, the more I have become convinced that if the Messiah is really going to bring back the kingdom of God on the earth, it can’t be just for the Jews. What kind of God would choose one set of his children over another and treat them favorably while he ignores the rest?”

  “But we say that the house of Israel are the chosen people, Papa. Don’t you believe that?”

  “Of course I do, Leah. But why were we chosen? Because we were better than other people? When you read about how often Israel murmured against God in the wilderness and the incident with them worshiping the golden calf, you know that wasn’t the case. That’s not what the Lord said to Moses.”

  “What did he say?”

  “The Lord told Moses that we were to be a holy people. And then Moses said something like this: ‘The Lord has chosen thee to be a special people unto him, above all the people upon the face of the earth. But the Lord did not set his love upon you or choose you because you are great in numbers. The Lord chose you because he loves you and because of the oath which he swore unto your fathers.’”

  They had slowed because David was filled with earnestness now and not thinking about where they were going. “He made a covenant with Abraham that his seed would be God’s people. We are his covenant people more than his chosen people, Leah. Our covenant is to serve God and bless others. That is why we are chosen. I don’t think God expects us to withdraw into our own little world and look down on all others with hate and contempt.”

  She walked on in silence for a time, thinking about what he had said. Then she looked up at her father. “Will Mama be angry if I believe that Jesus is the Messiah?”

  “Of course not. Your mother would never stop you from believing as you wish.” When she just nodded, he went on. “Do you think you might believe that Jesus is the Christ?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I want to hear Jesus for myself.” Suddenly she looked up at him and smiled. It was filled with such trust and sweetness that it caught David’s breath for a moment. “But you believe he is the Messiah, Papa, and I have always believed you. That’s a start, isn’t it?”

  He put his arm around her shoulder, unable to speak for a moment. “Yes, my sweet Leah,” he finally managed. “That’s a start.”

  V

  There was no fisherman’s catch to check on. When they reached the place where the fishermen kept their boats, the beach was filled with activity, but Peter and Andrew’s boat was beached on shore. The net was folded in a pile on the deck. There was no sign of anyone. A few feet away, the boat that belonged to Zebedee and his two sons also rocked gently at the water’s edge with no one around it. Puzzled, David looked at Leah. “Look at the net. It’s dry. It hasn’t been used.”

  “It doesn’t look like the boat has been out all night,” Leah agreed.

  “Yet last night it was gone. And yesterday morning as well.”

  Suddenly from the boat itself they heard a noise. As they turned, Peter appeared, climbing up out of the hold, one hand holding a coil of rope. He stopped, then grinned and waved. “David! I was going to come and see you this morning.”

  “You were?”

  “Yes. I have much to tell you.” He smiled even more broadly. “Good morning, Leah. What brings you two out so early?”

  “Well,” David said, “I passed by here last night and saw that your boat was gone. I assumed you had gone fishing, so I came to see how you did.”

  “No fishing,” he said. “We took the Master over to Gadara night before last. We returned long after dark last evening.”

  David nodded. Gadara was on the eastern shore of the Sea of Kinnereth, partway down its length. He gestured toward the net. “But you didn’t fish?”

  “No.” Peter stowed the rope, walked to the bow of the ship and hopped lightly down to the pebbled beach. He came over and grasped David on one shoulder. “It’s good to see you, my friend. Come. I just had to put some things away here. Jesus and Andrew are at home. Anna and her mother are preparing breakfast. Come and eat with us.”

  “We’ve eaten,” David answered, “but we shall walk with you.”

  “Good. I have so much I want to tell you.” He looked at Leah. “And I am pleased that you would be here as well, Leah.”

  “Leah has an interest in the teachings of Jesus.”

  “Really?” Peter said, clearly pleased.

  “I do. I haven’t had a chance to hear him for myself, but Father has told me much about what he says. I am very taken with it.” She looked up at him. “Will Jesus be teaching today, Simon?”

  “Probably,” he said. “We shall ask him.” He gestured with his head toward town, and they began walking slowly. As they did, Peter turned to David. “Speaking of fishing,” he said, sobered now, “Anna said you delivered payment the other day for another good catch.”

  David looked away. “I did.”

  “But there wasn’t a good catch, David. There hasn’t been any catch for more than two weeks now. How could there be when we have not gone out fishing?”

  Leah was staring at her father, who seemed embarrassed. “It is not my privilege to devote my full time to following the Master,” he said, not meeting Peter’s probing gaze. “He called you and Andrew and the others to be fishers of men. Well, I would like to be part of that, so I shall pay you for a different kind of catch.”

  To Leah’s utter amazement, su
ddenly there were tears in Peter’s eyes. She couldn’t believe it. Simon Peter? Strong-minded, totally independent, sometimes gruff, usually impetuous, and always unemotional Peter? Touched to the point of tears?

  He brushed quickly at them, shaking his head, almost as surprised as Leah and David were. “Do you remember what the Savior said to us the other day when he spoke on the mount?”

  “What?”

  “He was speaking directly to those of us he has asked to come and follow him.”

  David began to nod. “About the lilies of the field?”

  “Yes.” He cleared his throat, getting control again, and spoke to Leah. “He told us to take no thought—to not be overly anxious—about what we would eat or drink or how we would clothe ourselves. ‘Is not life more than meat, and the body more than raiment?’ he said.”

  He sighed, deep in thought now. “I wasn’t sure exactly what he meant. But then he reminded us that the fowls of the air neither sow nor reap.” He grinned quickly. “Nor do they go out in boats to fish, for that matter—nor do they gather their crops into barns. And yet Heavenly Father feeds them. Then he looked right at us. ‘Are you not better than they?’ he asked.”

  Leah could see that Peter’s eyes were shining again. “Think about it, Leah. As your father said, Jesus reminded us about the lilies of the field. ‘They toil not,’ he said, ‘neither do they sow, and yet Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.’”

  Leah was enchanted by the imagery. This was the season of wildflowers. Just a few days before, while she was out walking with her mother, she had stopped and picked one of them, totally delighted by the lustrous beauty of the petals, the perfect blend of shape, color, and smell. “Yes, what a beautiful way to put it.”

  Peter saw that she understood his words perfectly and was pleased. “Then Jesus simply said to us, ‘If God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is and tomorrow is cast into the oven, will he not take care of you, O you of little faith?’”

  He turned to David. “Anna and I talked much about my decision to follow Jesus. How would we live? Would there ever be time to fish again? What about the children? We knew we would do whatever he asked, but we couldn’t see how we were possibly to make do. And then suddenly your payment arrived at the house.”

  David was moved too, and could only nod.

  “‘O you of little faith,’” Peter repeated. “When he said that, I didn’t think he was talking about me.”

  “It is little enough I can do,” David said softly.

  “Well, there will be times when we still fish, I suppose, but in the meantime, know that you are doing the work of the Lord when you help Andrew and me and James and John.” He took a deep breath, relieved to have that said. “Now listen, David. You won’t believe what has been happening.”

  “What?”

  He turned to Leah. “I want you to hear this too, Leah. You keep this in mind when you finally get a chance to hear the Master teach.”

  “I will,” she said, surprised by his sudden intensity.

  “There is so much, but let me start with the night before last. It had been a full day of teaching—well, you remember. You were there for part of that day.” Then he frowned. “By the way, I saw Simeon get up and leave during the sermon.”

  “Yes,” David sighed. “I’m sorry. I hope Jesus wasn’t offended.”

  He shook his head and laughed softly. “One does not easily offend Jesus,” he said. “I told him about Simeon and what had happened with Deborah and Leah.”

  “Oh?”

  “I thought he was going to weep,” Peter said softly. “He is so saddened by the cruelty we find in the world.” He frowned, thinking about that, then went on. “Anyway, as we finished that evening, I thought we would just go home and have a quiet night to rest. But suddenly Jesus wanted to go over to the other side of the lake. There were still a lot of people around, trying to get to him. Maybe this was his way of getting a rest.”

  “He must get tired of never having time to himself,” David agreed.

  Peter shrugged. “Whatever it was, we did as he requested. We set off just after sundown, along with several other boats that decided to go with us. Soon it was dark, but there was a steady wind, and we were making good time. Jesus was exhausted. People had been swarming around him all day. So he went to the back of the boat, got some netting for a pillow, and immediately went to sleep.”

  David laughed softly. “He must have been exhausted indeed. I hate being on your boats. All that rocking and pitching.”

  “Exactly,” Peter said. “It surprised us a little how quickly he fell asleep.” Now his eyes became very grave. “As we made our way along, the wind began to stiffen. At first we were glad. It would speed us across, and perhaps we could get some sleep before daylight came again. But you know how quickly things can happen out there.”

  David suddenly snapped his fingers. “Night before last? I awoke in the night. The wind was howling in the treetops. I remember thinking how glad I was that you weren’t fishing at that time.” His eyes widened. “You were out in that?”

  “Yes, and howling is a word that barely describes it,” Peter said, his voice very low. “In all my days of fishing, I’ve seen only half a dozen times when it has come up so quickly and been so strong.”

  David understood exactly what he meant. The unique geographical setting of the Sea of Kinnereth created unusual conditions. When the cooler air from the highlands began its rush to the lowlands around the lake, by most evenings the wind would be stiff enough to raise whitecaps on the lake. Occasionally, conditions would be such that the winds would become a full-fledged gale. Even the most experienced fisherman had been caught out on the lake in such “storms of wind” as they called them, and more than one had drowned.

  Now Peter stopped and turned to face the two of them. To Leah’s surprise, he addressed her directly. “I know how your father feels about Jesus, Leah. Tell me what your thoughts are.”

  She thought for a moment before answering. “I haven’t been privileged to hear him for myself,” she began, “but I have great trust in my father’s feelings.”

  “Good for you, Child,” Peter said. “That is the key, to be willing to believe.” And with that, his hesitancy vanished. “Then listen carefully to what I have to say, for this will help you as you listen to Jesus.”

  “All right.”

  “As the wind strengthened with every moment, we realized that we were in serious danger. In the first place, almost every one of the boats had many people on them, so we were riding low in the water. As the waves became worse, they began crashing over the sides of the boat, filling the holds. We were bailing water as fast as we could, but could not begin to keep up with it. The boats began to swamp.”

  He looked at David. “It was terrible. We had to hang on with all our strength or be thrown out of the boat. To try to bail out water under such conditions was impossible. I was trying to keep the sail from tearing to shreds. Andrew was at the rudder fighting to hold our course. The other boats were in a similar state. We were shouting and yelling—” He shook his head. “Even now it leaves me cold to think about it.”

  “I can imagine,” David said. “I thought we were going to lose the trees in our courtyard.”

  Peter shook his head, his face even now still filled with disbelief. “And Jesus? You won’t believe this, but through it all, he was still asleep at the back of the boat.”

  “No!” David exclaimed. “How could he be?”

  “I don’t know. The boat was pitching back and forth like a wild donkey. We were shouting and yelling. And he slept.”

  “What happened?” Leah said, thoroughly mesmerized by Peter’s story.

  “Finally, frightened more deeply than I have been in many years, and frankly a little frustrated that he should sleep through it all, I crawled to the back of the boat and shook him awake. When he opened his eyes and looked at me, even then he didn’t seem to realize how desperate our situation was
. ‘Master, Master,’ I cried. ‘How can you continue to sleep? Do you not care that we perish?’”

  Simon Peter passed one hand across his eyes. “I can’t believe I said that to him, but things were pretty grim by then.” Peter’s thoughts were far away; his eyes filled with awe. “He didn’t answer me. He got to his feet and made his way to the front of the boat. Then he stood there, looking out into the storm and the darkness, the waves crashing around him, the wind tearing at his hair and beard.”

  Peter’s voice dropped almost to a whisper. “He raised one hand and spoke three words. ‘Peace, be still.’”

  No one spoke. Somewhere off in the willows a bird was singing lustily. To their right they could hear the soft lapping of the water against the shore. At last Peter’s head came up. “You know how these storms are, David. They can come up in ten or fifteen minutes, then be gone again just as quickly.”

  David was staring at him. “Are you saying the storm then blew itself out?”

  His head moved back and forth slowly. “No. The storm didn’t blow itself out. If it had, that would have seemed like a miracle to us, but it would have been easier to explain. Storms can sometimes change that quickly.”

  “Easier to explain?” Leah asked, picking up on how he had emphasized those words.

  “Yes. What happened next—there is no explanation for it.”

  Leah could not stand it. “What happened? Tell us.”

  He turned and looked out across the water, which was now smooth as a mirror, reflecting the sunlight in a blinding glare. “The moment Jesus spoke, the wind began to die. In no more than two or three minutes—two or three minutes, David!—the wind was completely gone, and it was perfectly calm.”

  “No!”

  “Yes. He raised his hand, spoke three simple words, and the waves instantly began to subside, the wind stopped, and—” He gestured toward the lake. “Almost before we realized it, the water was just as you see it now.”

  Both hands came up to his face, and he rubbed his eyes, partly to get the tiredness out of them, partly as though to clear his vision. “Then he turned to us,” he went on. “There was this gentle, quiet rebuke in his voice. ‘Why is it that you were afraid?’ he asked. ‘Where is your faith?’”