Fishers of Men

by Gerald N. Lund

  Simeon realized that he was holding his breath. The tension in the room was so real he could taste it, feel it. The women were all on their feet now, faces pressed to the lattice partition.

  “Stretch forth your hand,” Jesus said, his voice so low it was barely heard.

  The man visibly jerked. His head came up. He stared at Jesus, his eyes beseeching, pleading to let him sit down again and become anonymous as he had been before. Jesus smiled then, and nodded. “Stretch forth thy hand.”

  Suddenly the man’s eyes widened. He audibly took in a breath. He looked down, then back up to stare at Jesus in wonder. And then slowly, as if he were in a trance, he withdrew his hand from the sleeve of his robe.

  A prickling chill shot up Simeon’s back. The hairs at the back of his neck were standing straight up, and he felt as though someone had just exploded a jar of boiling hot water inside his body.

  “Praise be to God!”

  Simeon had no idea who had cried out. Maybe it was even him. Like everyone else in the room, he was gaping in utter astonishment. The man raised his hand in front of his face and turned it back and forth, his jaw slack, his eyes like huge brass plates. Where before there had been shriveled flesh and skeletal sticks, now there were long slender fingers, knuckles that were barely discernible. The skin was healthy and firm. The fingernails showed a rich pink beneath them.

  The synagogue exploded into a cacophony of sound. Everyone was on their feet. People were shouting and crying aloud. Women wept for joy. Suddenly the man was inundated as men pushed in to see more closely. Simeon fell back to his chair. A young lad of about fourteen reached out and grabbed the man’s hand and began to pinch it with his fingers, even now unable to believe what his eyes were seeing.

  In a dumbfounded haze, Simeon turned to look at Jesus, but the man from Nazareth had already stepped down from the bima and was moving back to his seat. And then through the din, a man’s voice registered in Simeon’s mind. “The man violates the Law of Moses! He violates the holy Sabbath!”

  It was Amram, his face a mottled patch of fury. He was shaking his fist at Jesus. “How dare you flaunt the law in our synagogue? You exceed yourself.” He turned to those around him. “Away with this man!”

  Simeon could only stare. Had Amram not seen what Simeon had just seen? How could he even find words, let alone words of condemnation? And then Simeon saw Aaron. He was not on his feet. He sat still on the bench. His face was white, his eyes filled with shock, as though he had just seen a spirit dancing before his eyes.

  In three steps Simeon went to him. He reached out and shook his shoulder roughly. “Aaron!”

  The head came up slowly. For a moment he didn’t seem to recognize him. “Did you see that?” Simeon cried. “Did you see what happened?”

  Aaron’s head didn’t move, but Simeon saw it in his eyes. He saw the astonishment, the shock, the awe, the utter disbelief. Yes, Aaron had seen it. Simeon thought about the hurt this man had brought to his mother’s eyes yesterday. “What do you do with that, Uncle?” Simeon shouted at him, barely making himself heard over the din. He shook him again. “What do you think of this Messiah now?”

  Aaron got to his feet, still half in a trance. Simeon’s father had come over now. Aaron looked at the two of them; then finally his eyes focused on Amram, who was still raging at the crowd. “Leave me alone!” Aaron cried, jerking free. “Go away! Leave me alone!”

  Chapter Notes

  The scripture Simeon cites about King David is found in 1 Chronicles 22:7–8.

  Matthew, Mark, and Luke all record the story of the healing on the Sabbath day in the synagogue in Capernaum (see Matthew 12:1–3, 9–13; Mark 2:23–28; 3:1–5; Luke 6:1–10). All three also indicate that this healing closely followed the criticism leveled at Jesus and his disciples for “threshing” on the Sabbath. Matthew and Mark suggest both events happened the same day. All three evangelists note the reaction that followed. Matthew says, “Then the Pharisees went out, and held a council against him, how they might destroy him” (12:14). Mark adds that this was done in partnership with the Herodians, a group that supported bringing the family of Herod back into power, and who, incidentally, were normally bitterly opposed by the Pharisees (see Mark 3:6). Luke adds that “they were filled with madness; and communed one with another what they might do to Jesus” (Luke 6:11).

  Chapter 26

  The gods play games with men as balls.

  —Titus Maccius Plautus, Captivi

  I

  6 June, a.d. 30

  “Take your marks.”

  The twenty-eight men up and down the line bent forward, hands reaching, fingers splayed out, every sinew as tightly strung as their bows.

  “Ready?” Yehuda glanced at Simeon, who nodded curtly.

  “Go! One. Two. Three. Four.”

  As Yehuda began to count, the men jerked up their bows. Hands flew to the quivers strapped across their backs. Fingers snatched the shafts and brought them down, nocking them onto the strings in one fluid movement. At the count of three their bows were up and drawn back until the metal tips of the arrows touched the wood. At four, one eye closed and the tips of the shafts moved slightly, honing in on the targets thirty paces away.

  “Five!”

  Twenty-eight arrows flashed away, filling the air with a soft hum, like a hive of far-off bees. Almost as one, twenty-eight missiles thwacked into the straw sheaves that held up the painted targets.

  “Again! One. Two. Three.”

  Simeon watched in pride. On their first attempt at this, the day after he arrived back in Beth Neelah, their firing had been good but ragged. Now it was as though one mind controlled twenty-eight bodies. The rhythm was smooth and perfectly controlled. Here and there he saw a shaft miss the mark, disappearing into the trees behind, but the targets now bristled, and there were more than half in the center circle Daniel had painted for them to sight on.

  When all seven arrows had been loosed, Simeon stood up. “Excellent!” he shouted. “This is the band I remember. Good work, my brothers.”

  He smiled as Yehuda turned and came over to where he was standing. The men started to laugh and call out to one another as they walked toward the line of targets. The Javelin was pleased at last. That was a good omen.

  “They are ready,” Simeon said happily. “With men as good as this, it doesn’t take long to bring them back up to their peak.”

  Yehuda frowned. “Will they be so disciplined when the air is filled with Roman arrows?” he growled.

  “They are not untested,” Simeon said, still half-teasing, a little surprised at Yehuda’s pessimism.

  “None of us has been tested as we shall be if things develop as we hope.”

  That sobered Simeon, and he nodded. “True, my friend, but when the prize is of great worth, the costs rise to meet it.”

  Yehuda sank to the ground, and Simeon followed suit.

  “You are worried,” Simeon said after a moment.

  “I don’t like the idea of depending on information from a fox who is more jackal than fox.”

  Simeon nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. The word had come from Gehazi. The Roman column in Damascus was loading up and preparing to leave. Soon all the Zealot bands would be called to come to Sepphoris. There the man with the detailed information on the exact movements of the Roman column would share his knowledge with the rest of them, and they would prepare the ambush based on that knowledge. Other than Gehazi, only Simeon and Yehuda knew that the man they would have to trust was Moshe Ya’abin. That was enough to leave any reasonable man filled with worry.

  “We have the added advantage of knowing that, so far, everything Mordechai ben Uzziel told us is correct. That gives us an important safeguard.”

  “There is too much treachery here, Simeon,” Yehuda grumbled. “Mordechai betrays Ya’abin because he wishes to get his revenge, but at the same time, he hopes that this will lead to our downfall as well. Ya’abin betrays the Romans. The Romans hope to annihilate the Zealots
. I don’t like it.”

  “I have considered that carefully,” Simeon answered soberly. “And it well may be. But by the time the column reaches Capernaum, we will know exactly how many men they have and how well protected they will be. Even if they have a full cohort, they don’t know we can field twice that number against them. The fools. They cannot believe we could unite and put more than a thousand into the field.”

  “It is not the two thousand that I hoped for.”

  “Only because Gehazi demands but the best of our men. I would rather have a thousand of the best than two thousand where half are incompetent or untested.”

  “Agreed, but I still don’t like it.”

  Simeon turned and peered at his friend and most trusted lieutenant. “Enough that you want to sit this one out?”

  The black beard twitched for a moment as he bit his lip; then he shook his head. “No, we shall see it through. But I don’t like it.”

  “You and I shall take it upon ourselves to watch Ya’abin very closely. If he is up to something, we will know it before he can carry it out.”

  “Are you really going to hand him over to the Romans?”

  Simeon shook his head. “Mordechai would like that, for he hopes that the Romans will snatch you and me in the bargain. No, we shall only drive that thieving Judean fox into the Roman net. They can take it from there.” His eyes were hooded and clouded now. “We will have other scores to settle in addition to Ya’abin.”

  “Amen,” Yehuda rumbled.

  They were quiet for a time, both lost in their thoughts. Then Simeon stirred. “I am going back down to Capernaum this afternoon.” Yehuda’s head jerked up, but Simeon went on quickly. “The men are ready. You and Daniel can see to the few things that still need to be done until I return. I’ll be back by late morning day after tomorrow, in plenty of time for the meeting.”

  Yehuda turned and watched their men. They had gathered in a circle and were checking their arrows for damage before returning them to their quivers. “Is this all because of Jesus?” There was no mistaking the touch of disgust in his voice.

  “I have to know, Yehuda. There’s no question about him being the Messiah. I have to know if I am right about his plans, or if my father’s feelings are correct.”

  “And you think Jesus is going to tell you?”

  “I’m not going to ask him directly. I don’t feel comfortable with that. But if I can get Peter aside, or even Andrew or James or John, they’ll know.” He turned and looked out across the valley below them. “If Jesus is just waiting, and we are about to present him with the opportunity he needs, think what that will mean, Yehuda. After all these years of delay, think what that will mean.”

  “It’s a fool’s mission,” his friend said darkly.

  “If you had been in the synagogue you wouldn’t say that, old friend,” came the soft reply. “I saw that man’s hand, Yehuda. In one instant it was restored to perfect wholeness. One instant! No ordinary man, not even the most extraordinary leader, does things like that. Jesus has to be the Messiah.”

  Yehuda just grunted. Simeon’s account had troubled him, but he wasn’t yet convinced. If you had asked him to give an explanation, he couldn’t have done so, but he trusted his feelings, and this did not feel right.

  Simeon got to his feet. “Will you tell Shana? I think I’ll start down now. I’ll see her before we leave again for the meeting.”

  “Shana will be fine. She is worried, of course, but Shana will be fine.”

  “You told her everything?”

  “Only that we are going out again, but she is strong, Simeon. You don’t need to hold back from talking with her.”

  That surprised Simeon. “It is hard for her to know that we shall face danger, so it is easier for us not to talk about it.” His shoulders lifted and fell, and he turned and looked at the men. They were moving back to their places along the line, preparing for the next drill. He changed the subject. “They are good men, Yehuda. This will turn out. You will see.”

  II

  7 June, a.d. 30

  It took Simeon until well after dark that day to reach Capernaum. Fending off any questions from his family, he had a quick supper and went to bed. Early the next morning he left before breakfast, grabbing a small bag of dates and a handful of almonds.

  He stopped at Peter’s house, but Anna said that he and Jesus and the rest of the Twelve had also left early, even before the sun had risen above the hills of Gadara. Jesus wanted more time alone with his closest disciples. No, she did not know where they were going.

  At Andrew’s house it was the same. At Zebedee’s, the old fisherman told Simeon that his sons, James and John, had stopped by briefly the night before. They had said something about possibly going to Bethsaida, which was three or four miles to the east of Capernaum.

  Frustrated but determined, he set out, inquiring along the way, knowing how Jesus drew people after him. No one had seen him. Not in Bethsaida, not on the road between. Discouraged, he set his face west again. In Capernaum again, word was that Jesus had been seen going west. He went on, staying clear of any contact with his family. Two miles farther, just as the sun reached its zenith, he got his first encouragement at the little village of Tabgha. A farmer selling vegetables alongside the road told Simeon that Jesus and his disciples had passed through about two hours before. No, he didn’t know where they were going, but they were still headed west.

  On Simeon trudged, bending his head to the blistering heat and the hot wind that came in from the south. As he reached the Plains of Kinnereth, a broad area of rich farmland yet another two or three miles farther on from Tabgha, he finally had success. Some women were working at a threshing floor—a large, stony area where neighboring farmers brought their sheaves of grain and put them beneath the threshing sled. With the threshing done, the women now stood with wooden pitchforks winnowing the grain. In smooth, even strokes, they picked up a forkful of the grain and tossed it up against the wind. The straw and chaff blew away in a golden white cloud, while the heavier grain fell to the ground.

  “Do you know by chance of a man named Jesus of Nazareth?” he called to them.

  “That we do,” one of the young ones called back, smiling prettily at him. “Our fathers and husbands have gone after him just now, in fact.”

  “Would you know where they might have gone?”

  Two of them turned and pointed. Squinting against the afternoon sun, he saw immediately what he had not seen in the distant haze. Another half mile on, a gentle hill rose out of the plain. As he peered more closely, he could see that a gray mass covered much of it and that it was moving slowly.

  He turned back. “It looks as if you may be the only ones who have not gone after him,” he smiled.

  “True that is,” the young one answered back. “And as soon as we are finished here, we shall join them as well.”

  He waved and walked on, staring now at the mass of people he could see out ahead of him. It was amazing. They were out and away from any of the villages, but the moving mass covered most of the hillside.

  By the time he reached them, the crowd had basically stopped moving, settling down on patches of rock or areas of vegetation. As Simeon made his way slowly through the throng, it quickly became obvious that the name of Jesus was on everyone’s lips. He had said this. He had said that. Had this person listened to him teach before? Had they heard how he had cleansed the temple in Jerusalem? He had done this. He had done that. It was no surprise that what Simeon overheard most was references to Jesus’ miracles. He had healed a blind man. He had touched a leper and made him clean. Did they know about the daughter of Jairus, ruler of the synagogue in Capernaum? She had been raised from the dead. Simeon stopped as a man then asked those around him if they had heard about the other time Jesus had raised someone from the dead.

  Simeon couldn’t help himself. He turned aside and walked over to the man. “I overheard what you said. Who told you this?”

  The man was about his father�
�s age but obviously of the working classes. His beard was dirty and tangled. One tooth was rotted away, the others stained brown. His tunic looked as if he had wiped his hands on it many times. “No one told me,” he answered proudly. “I saw it with my own eyes. I was no more than five or six paces away when it happened.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Are you a disciple?” the man demanded, peering up at him suspiciously, taking note of the fine quality of Simeon’s tunic.

  He hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

  That satisfied him. “It was amazing. Jesus was coming to our village. I had heard he was coming to Nain and went out with many others to hear him. We were just approaching the gate when we heard the shrieking and wailing of mourners. A moment later a funeral procession came through the gate on its way to the graveyard. There were five or six men carrying the casket on their shoulders, followed by the rest of the people.”

  Simeon nodded. The scene the man described was typical. “And the casket was open?” Unless there was disease or a terrible accident, the body was always left uncovered until the actual burial.

  “That’s right,” the man said. He looked around, noting that a small group was moving in around him so they could hear too. He beamed proudly. “When Jesus saw that it was a young man who had died, he asked those of us from Nain if we knew him. We did, of course. We told him it was the only son of a widow woman.” His face fell. “It was very sad. The dead man was the only means of her support.”

  “So what happened?” a woman standing behind him asked.

  “That seemed to affect Jesus quite deeply,” the man went on, his eyes moving back and forth to take in the different members of his audience. “Then, to our surprise, Jesus stepped forward and touched the casket. The men who were carrying it stopped immediately. I thought he just wanted to look at the body.”

  “But he did more than that,” Simeon prompted.

  “He certainly did. He spoke to the dead man. ‘Young man, I say unto you, Arise.’ And he did.” The man shook his head, wonder in his eyes all over again. “The widow’s son sat up and began to speak.” He chuckled. “That made a few women scream, I’ll tell you. There that young man was, sitting up in his coffin and talking away just like he had come into your house and taken a chair.”