Fishers of Men

by Gerald N. Lund

David answered. “I think he plans to ride it into Jerusalem.”

  “But why?” Simeon said. “Jesus never rides. He walks everywhere.”

  “It’s a steep climb,” Ephraim suggested. “Perhaps he’s tired.” But even as he said it, he shook his head. Jesus often stayed in Bethany with Martha and her family while he was in the Jerusalem area. He walked back and forth between the village and the city often. They had never known him to seek a ride.

  David turned to watch Jesus as they brought the animal to him. The Master said something to Judas and Thomas, who were closest to him. Judas took off his outer cloak and spread it across the back of the animal. It was clear that David’s assumption was about to prove true. He turned back to the others. “Matthew and I were talking about this while you were gone,” he went on. “You know how Matthew is with the scriptures.”

  “Yes.” Simeon knew that well. Matthew loved the writings of the prophets. He was continually pointing out things of significance from them.

  “When a visiting king wishes to enter a city on a peaceful mission, how does he do it?”

  Simeon had started to move forward again. He stopped and swung around to his father. “He rides on a donkey,” he said slowly.

  “Yes,” David said, his voice low with excitement. “So the people will know he comes in peace. If he planned war, he would come astride a horse or in a chariot.”

  “Are you saying—” Ephraim began, but his father went on, cutting him off.

  “Matthew reminded me of a prophecy about the Messiah given by the prophet Zechariah. It’s one I haven’t thought about for a long time. Zechariah said, ‘Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion. Shout, O daughter of Jerusalem. Behold, thy King cometh unto thee. He is just, and having salvation; lowly, and riding upon an ass, and upon a colt, the foal of an ass.’”

  Simeon’s surprise was complete. He had heard that prophecy before, of course, but he hadn’t made the connection to what was happening that very day.

  David spoke with great earnestness. “Matthew thinks Jesus is about to enter Jerusalem as her king.”

  “But that’s a Messianic prophecy,” Ephraim said. Then his eyes widened even further. “He wants the people to know he is the Messiah?”

  David nodded. “Matthew believes that we are about to witness the fulfillment of a prophecy that is more than four hundred years old.”

  They turned as one. Jesus was standing beside the yearling donkey, smoothing out the cloak that covered its back. He looked around for a moment at his followers, then swung one leg over and mounted the animal. For a moment, the colt was startled, and its large ears flicked back and forth nervously. But then it steadied.

  Simeon had a sudden flash of insight. He swung around, snatching out his dagger. “Ephraim, quickly! Get some palm fronds.”

  Ephraim looked at him blankly.

  “Quickly,” Simeon said. “If he is going into Jerusalem as a king, let us greet him as a king.”

  With that explanation, David saw it instantly, as did Ephraim. At the Feast of Tabernacles, Jehovah was welcomed as King of Israel by the waving of palm fronds. “Of course!” he exclaimed. He pulled out his own knife, moving forward quickly. Judea was a warm, semitropical climate, and mingled with the olive and fig orchards were half a dozen different species of palm trees. Some were the towering date palms; others were squat and fat, not much taller than a man.

  Simeon raced to the nearest one and slashed at the base of the frond. It fell to the ground with a soft thud. He cut off another, then another.

  “Simeon? What are you doing?”

  He turned. Miriam was just behind him. Leah, Esther, Deborah, and Rachel were coming too, giving the men strange looks.

  “Quickly,” David said. “Take these.”

  “But—”

  Ephraim was a few paces away. He had cut several too. “Here, Rachel,” he cried. “Jesus is going to Jerusalem as the Messiah, as the King of Israel.”

  He was so excited he spoke loudly. The waiting group heard him clearly and turned in surprise. Then they saw it as well. Men and women leaped into action, running to the closest palms. Jesus watched gravely. Peter stepped to him and whispered something in his ear. Jesus smiled and nodded.

  Suddenly worried that Jesus might not approve, Simeon caught Peter’s eye, then pointed to the fronds on the ground. He didn’t say anything, but his expression was clear. “Is this all right?” Peter nodded vigorously, motioning with his hands to proceed.

  Soon the entire hillside was bustling with activity. Branches were stripped off of bushes, and myrtle, willow, and citron trees. People plucked up wild flowers that grew among the spring grasses along the roadside and threw them in front of the slowly moving animal. Almond trees were in blossom, and people broke off branches heavily laden with flowers and did the same.

  The women of David ben Joseph’s family grabbed the palm fronds their men had cut for them and raced forward, getting out ahead of the donkey. Then they turned to face each other a few paces apart. Other men and women joined them quickly, forming a corridor for the donkey to pass through. It was as though a forest had instantly sprung up in the center of the road. The mass of green waved back and forth as if stirred by a gentle wind.

  As the first of the group came running back with the fronds in their hands, the chief apostle picked up the donkey’s tether and started forward. At that moment, something else happened. Mary Magdalene had been standing near Jesus, watching with large, wondering eyes. Then, as Peter moved forward, she swept off her outer cloak, running forward a few steps, maneuvering around the people with the palms and branches. The cloth billowed outward, then floated softly to the ground directly in front of the colt. Martha and Mary saw it and quickly followed suit. In a rush, others began to join in. Some fell in behind Jesus, palm fronds waving slowly back and forth majestically. Others leaped forward to throw their cloaks in front of the procession. In moments, the donkey was no longer walking on dirt, but on a carpet of robes.

  A mighty shout went up. Simeon whirled around, a thrill of elation shooting through him. “Hosanna!” came the cry. “Hosanna! Hosanna to the Son of David!”

  “That’s enough fronds,” David said to his two sons. He snatched up one for himself and raced away. Simeon and Ephraim followed. Aaron stood there for a moment, staring. The hosanna shout had come as a shock. Then, feeling something he had never experienced before, he grabbed up a palm frond from the ground and started running after his brother-in-law and two nephews.

  The shout was like a torch of fire in a sheaf of grain. The cry leaped from lip to lip. In moments, the crowd was ablaze with the joyous chant. “Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord. Hallelujah! Hosanna in the highest!”

  All waved their branches joyously. “Hosanna! Blessed be the kingdom of our father David.”

  By the time they neared the top of the Mount of Olives, the increasing accumulation of the crowd was like a flash flood in one of the dry wadis of the desert. With such a flash flood, out of a seemingly clear sky drops begin to fall. Drops become puddles, puddles become rivulets, rivulets become streams, streams become torrents. In the same way, people poured out of every path, every track, every lane, every road. First it had been dozens, then hundreds. As they reached the top of the ridge, it was well over a thousand. The road was lined ten or twelve deep on both sides, providing a living passageway of shouting, cheering, exuberant, exultant humanity.

  Though they had come nearly a quarter of a mile since Jesus had mounted the colt, the roadway had been covered for that entire distance. Flowers and greenery showered like rain around Jesus. Every person close enough to see Jesus seemed to want to have his or her cloak be one of those that softened his way. And all the time, the chant rose and fell. “Hosanna! Hallelujah! Praise be to Jehovah. May Jehovah save us.”

  III

  Jerusalem, the Temple Mount

  Mordechai looked up at the sound of running feet. It was Menachem, and he was coming as quickly as his ample girth wou
ld allow him to move. Caiaphas shot Mordechai a hard glance. This was a private meeting of the presidency of the Great Council. They were discussing things of the utmost confidentiality. “What is he doing here?” he snapped.

  Azariah the Pharisee, the third member of the council leadership, frowned as well. He didn’t like Menachem. The man was Mordechai’s lackey, always fawning around trying to carry out his mentor’s will. But one look at Menachem’s face cut off Azariah’s protest. His expression was a mixture of shock, horror, and revulsion.

  Mordechai leaped to his feet. Something was obviously terribly wrong. “What is it?” he exclaimed.

  “You’d better come,” Menachem said, puffing heavily. “All of you.”

  Before they could ask him anything, Menachem swung around and took off again. “This way!” he called over his shoulder.

  “Menachem!” Mordechai shouted.

  “You must see for yourself,” came the answering shout. Then he was gone, shouting for them to hurry.

  The chambers of the Great Sanhedrin of Jerusalem were beneath the apse that was on the eastern end of the massive Royal Portico, the covered colonnade that occupied the entire south side of the Temple Mount. Muttering angrily, Mordechai moved as quickly as he could after his aide, with Azariah and Caiaphas following close behind. They came out into the sunlight and stopped, half blinded by the sudden glare.

  “There!” said Azariah, pointing. All around the other three sides of the Court of the Gentiles were lesser porticoes, but the one on the east was known as Solomon’s Porches. Menachem was standing just outside those porches, waving wildly to catch their attention. When he saw that they had seen him, he turned and disappeared into the deep shade beneath the overhanging roof.

  Cursing quietly, Mordechai headed in that direction.

  Because the Temple Mount capped the summit of Mount Moriah, in every direction except the north there was a precipitous drop off to the surrounding valleys. The view from the top of the walls was spectacular, and so openings had been designed all along the walls to allow people to see out. From the eastern wall, one could see almost straight down to the Kidron Valley and then across to the great mass of the Mount of Olives.

  As the three leaders entered the shade of the eastern portico, Menachem called out to them. “Over here!”

  Puffing heavily, Mordechai moved forward, his brows lowering darkly. This had better be important, or Menachem was going to get his hide taken off him. And then he saw that there were groups of people standing at every opening, pointing and crying aloud.

  “What is it?” he demanded when they reached Menachem. People standing nearby, seeing who it was, moved quickly to another opening.

  Menachem raised a hand and pointed. “Look!”

  For a moment, Mordechai wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be seeing. Then his eyes caught movement. He leaned forward, squinting a little. What in the name of heaven? It was like some giant, multicolored caterpillar was oozing its way slowly over the topmost ridge of the Mount of Olives, then flowing downward, completely filling up the lighter slash that marked the main road from Jerusalem to Jericho.

  Then, as his brain finally registered what he was staring at, he drew in his breath sharply. It was a huge, flowing mass of people. At that same moment, his mind also heard a distant roar coming from the same direction. It was the roar of a thousand voices.

  “What is it?” Azariah cried. “What’s happening?”

  Caiaphas stood rooted to a spot just beside Mordechai, his jaw slack, his eyes vacant with shock.

  “Listen!” Menachem hissed. “Can’t you tell what they’re saying?”

  Cocking his head to one side for a moment, Mordechai focused intently on the sound itself. And then he felt suddenly sick.

  “Hosanna! Hosanna!” And it was like the rumble of thunder, so many were the voices joining in the triumphant shout.

  Mordechai turned to his man. “Jesus?” he said in astonishment.

  “It has to be,” Menachem said. “We got word more than an hour ago that he was coming.” He turned to look again, his eyes panicked. “It has to be.”

  “What do you mean?” Caiaphas burst out. “You mean that it’s that madman from Nazareth?”

  “That’s exactly what he means,” Mordechai snarled. He turned back. Unbelievable! Even as he watched, he could see streams of people running up the hill to join the group.

  “I don’t understand,” Caiaphas said in alarm. “What are they doing?”

  Azariah turned and looked at Mordechai. He was as pale as a sheet of bleached muslin. “They’re greeting him like a conquering king,” he breathed.

  “No,” Mordechai hissed. “Not a king. The King!”

  IV

  By now Simeon had given up any thought of trying to stay out in front of Jesus and watch for trouble. The multitudes were so thick that there was barely room for the donkey carrying Jesus to keep moving forward. Simeon and his father and the other men had formed a rough circle around Jesus, holding out their arms simply to stop the throngs from crushing in on him and stopping their progress altogether. The people filled the road as far ahead as Simeon could see.

  As they topped the ridge and started to descend down the west slope of the Mount of Olives, Jesus called to Peter, who was still leading the donkey. The apostle stopped. For a moment, Simeon thought Jesus was going to dismount, but he did not. He sat there, gazing steadily on the spectacular sight that lay before them. The entire city of Jerusalem lay spread out before them in the morning sunlight. Closest to them, almost as if it were at their feet, was the Temple Mount, enclosed by the massive walls built by Herod the Great. And in its exact center, gleaming brilliant white in the sunshine, beckoning all to come unto it, was the temple of the Most High God.

  Simeon would not have thought it possible for people to be any more stirred with excitement than they already were, but the sight of the city affected them as well. If anything, the roar of the crowd rose even higher. “Blessed be the King that cometh in the name of the Lord,” they chanted. “Hosanna! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest.”

  Suddenly, there was a disturbance heard beneath the tumult. Then Simeon saw why. Four men were pushing their way through the crowd, coming up the hill from the direction of Jerusalem. They were shouting and yelling as they elbowed people out of their way.

  “Oh, oh,” Simeon cried to Aaron and his father. “This could be trouble.”

  There was no mistaking who the men were. They wore the robes of the ruling class of the Pharisees. And they were angry. The disciples leaped forward, pulling in tighter around the Master.

  The shouts of people around Jesus began to lessen. Further out, where people couldn’t see what was happening, the cries continued, and the noise was still thunderous, but in the center the cries quickly ceased. People began to fall back to make way for the four approaching men.

  The man in the lead, the most ornately dressed and obviously their leader, came right up to the donkey, ignoring Peter. He leaned forward, his jaw thrust out. “Master! Rebuke your disciples. Do you not hear what they are saying? You must stop this!”

  Jesus looked around at the people on every side, then turned back to face the man. “I tell you that if these—” one hand swept out to include the multitude—“should hold their peace, the very stones would immediately cry out in their place.”

  The man’s face instantly flamed. His head bobbed spasmodically up and down, causing his beard and side curls to dance. He was so horrified at this audacity that he couldn’t speak. Finally, he spun away. “Come,” he said to his companions, “we must report this to Azariah and the council.” He glanced back over his shoulder, muttering imprecations under his breath, as they hurried back the way they had come.

  Peter watched them until the crowd closed in behind them, then looked at Jesus. “Shall we go on, Lord?” he asked. Others of the Twelve had moved up as well, and they leaned forward to learn what he would have them do.

  But Jesus was not look
ing at them. He wasn’t looking at Peter. And he didn’t seem to hear the question. The road sloped downward rather sharply, and while there were people blocking the way itself, they could not block the view of the city that lay spread out before them.

  Simeon was just ahead and to the right of Jesus. He had moved there to jump in if the four men had meant trouble. To his astonishment, as he turned to see why Jesus hadn’t answered, he saw tears in his eyes. He could scarcely believe it. Moments before he had been smiling and waving to the cheering crowd. Now he was weeping!

  Others saw it too and began to shush the crowd. “Quiet! The Master would speak! Hush!” The commands rippled outward and gradually the shouts of acclamation began to die. The silence spread outward from Jesus’ person. The palm fronds slowly stopped their motion. The cloaks and scarves and veils being waved back and forth like banners were lowered. Jesus seemed unaware of any of it. His eyes never left the scene before him.

  And then he took a deep breath and, struggling to speak, exclaimed, “O Jerusalem! If ye only knew the things which belong unto thy peace! But now they are hid from thine eyes.”

  It was such a remarkable change that shock registered on every face. In an instant, they had plunged from euphoria to gloom, from gladness to crushing sorrow. Even Peter seemed a little dazed by the complete and sudden change.

  But still Jesus seemed unaware of anything around him. He was transfixed. He saw something as he looked out on the city that no one else was seeing, and it clearly was affecting him profoundly.

  “The days shall come upon thee,” he said, “that thine enemies shall cast a trench about thee, and compass thee round, and hedge thee in on every side. They shall lay thee even with the ground, and thy children within thee.” The tears spilled over his eyelids and washed down his face. “And they shall not leave in thee one stone upon another; because ye knew not the time of your visitation.”

  No one moved. Every eye stared at the figure sitting astride the young donkey. Simeon felt a sense of deep foreboding sweep over him. Jesus was speaking to the city as if it were a woman standing before him. He spoke of siege and destruction and death. A moment before, they were shouting their hosannas to the King of Israel. What was the meaning of this remarkable shift of mood and focus?