The call to be perfect is found in Matthew 5:48.
The account of the miracle of the coin in the mouth of the fish is found in Matthew 17:24–27. Obviously the author has supplied some details not found in the scriptural account. It is interesting that Matthew, who was himself a publican before his call to the apostleship, is the only one of the gospel writers to include this event.
There is a species of fish unique to the Sea of Galilee, somewhat like a perch, which is very popular among the locals in Israel and with tourists as well. It is now called “St. Peter’s fish,” deriving its name from this miracle.
The system for collecting taxes used by the Romans through agents called publicani or publicians was described more fully in volume 1, Fishers of Men (see Prologue, and notes for chapter 18).
Chapter 6
It is I; be not afraid.
—John 6:20
I
Capernaum 25 June, a.d. 30
By the time they found Absalom and triumphantly gave him the coin, then returned to Peter’s house, Jesus was no longer there. Anna, Peter’s wife, told her husband that the crowds had grown so large that Jesus had moved to the outskirts of the town where there was more room. She also told David and Simeon that their family had gone home to give the children their midday meal. Peter, Andrew, James, and John immediately set out to rejoin Jesus and share the news of what had happened on the dock. All four of the apostles encouraged Simeon to come with them, but he demurred. Now, more than ever, he needed time to think before he spoke with Jesus, so he and his father decided to go home and rejoin the family.
As they walked along the streets of Capernaum, neither spoke. Simeon was grateful for the time to think. The wonder of what had happened still lay heavily upon him. It left him almost dizzy to think about how Jesus had known the fish would be there and would be the first to hit Peter’s hook. And for some reason, each time he thought of that, he came back to his problem with Yehuda and the others. There was a lesson in all of this, but he wasn’t yet sure exactly what it was.
II
The family ate their midday meal together at David’s house; then Ephraim and Rachel took Esther and Boaz home for a nap. Since this day was one of those when the servants did not come in, they began to clear away the food and the dishes. Then a loud knock came on the courtyard gate. Leah was closest, so she went quickly over and opened it. To their surprise, it was Peter who stepped through.
After greeting each of them, and declining Deborah’s invitation to share in what was left of their meal, Peter grew very somber. “There has been some bad news this afternoon.”
David stepped forward. “Bad news?”
“Yes, from Judea.”
Deborah motioned them to the benches and chairs where they had been sitting. “Tell us.” Peter sat down, showing a deep tiredness in his eyes. “Some of the disciples from Judea came up today. There is word of John the Baptist.”
David sat down slowly. “Yes?” John was still in one of King Herod’s prisons for condemning Herod’s marriage to Herodias, his brother’s wife.
Peter rubbed his hands over his eyes; then his fingers moved up and began to massage his temples. “John is dead.”
“No!” Several cried out at once.
Peter seemed not to hear for a moment, then finally looked up. “Even though at one point Herod announced he was going to execute John, he didn’t dare follow through with it. John was so popular with the people the king was afraid it would trigger an uprising.”
“So what happened?” Deborah asked.
“A week ago, it was Herod’s birthday. They held a great feast in his honor. The reports are that as part of the celebration, Herodias had her daughter dance for the king.”
“Go on,” David said, feeling sick at heart, sensing what was coming.
“Herodias hated John, of course. She tried several times to persuade Herod to have him killed for criticizing her.” He let out a long breath. “They say her daughter is very beautiful. I suppose it was a very seductive and provocative dance. Herod, who was probably completely drunk by then, was so enchanted he brought the girl forward and announced she could ask anything she wanted. He swore with an oath that he would grant it to her.”
“He must have been very drunk to make a promise like that,” Simeon said in disgust.
“The girl, whose name is Salome, went immediately to her mother. She was thrilled, I’m sure, with the king’s offer. Salome asked her mother for advice on what to request.”
Peter’s eyes were haunted now. “Herodias told her to ask the king for the head of John the Baptist on a charger.”
Deborah paled.
“Oh, no!” David moaned.
Peter nodded grimly. “Herod was shocked. I guess all the court was. But he had given his word.”
“How awful!” Deborah cried. “How utterly awful.”
Peter lowered his gaze. He and Andrew had been among some of the first of John the Baptist’s followers. It was John who had pointed Jesus out to them one day, saying, “Behold the Lamb of God.” The shock and grief were evident on his face.
Peter took a deep breath, then looked up. “Actually, I didn’t come just for that.” He looked at Simeon. “When Jesus heard the news, he went off by himself to pray.”
“He must be filled with terrible sorrow,” Deborah said.
“Yes,” Peter answered. “It came as a real blow to him.” Then, still speaking to Simeon, he went on. “Jesus asked if we would take a ship across the lake and meet him over beyond Bethsaida after nightfall. It will be just me and Andrew and James and John. If you came with us, we could talk some more while we wait for Jesus.”
Simeon hesitated. He wasn’t ready. He had barely had a moment to think about things. This wouldn’t be the time to bother Jesus, but Peter made a good listener and gave good counsel. He nodded. “All right. Thank you for thinking of me, Peter.”
Peter turned to Simeon’s father. “David, you are welcome to come as well.”
There was a moment’s hesitation. Clearly his father would have liked that as much as Simeon, but David looked at Deborah. Something passed between them, though there was nothing said; then David shook his head. “No. I had better see to things here.”
Simeon felt a rush of relief. He still planned to tell his father everything, but it would be easier not to have him listening as Simeon struggled with what to tell Jesus. He turned to Peter. “How soon are you leaving?”
“As soon as I return to the boat. Andrew, James, and John are getting it ready now.”
Simeon got to his feet. “Then we’d better go.”
Deborah got up quickly and went to her son. She gave him a fierce hug. “Don’t be afraid to tell Jesus what is in your heart, Simeon,” she whispered. “Let him help you.”
He kissed her on the cheek. “I will, Mother.”
III
Near Gergesa, on the eastern shore of the Sea of Galilee
“Have you given much thought to what happened today, Simeon?”
Simeon turned his head to look at Peter. They were stretched out on a thick patch of grass not far from the water’s edge. The boat they had come across in rode at anchor a few feet away, its stern to them as it swung in the stiff westerly breeze coming off the lake. At the moment they were alone on the eastern shore of the Sea of Galilee. Andrew, James, and John had gone into Gergesa, about a mile from where they were anchored, to buy some bread. Simeon also suspected they had arranged it so Simeon could have Peter to himself. “About the coin, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“What about it?”
Peter was looking up at the cloudless sky, now a deep purple as the last of the daylight faded away. “As we were saying this morning, Jesus never does anything without purpose. He’s always teaching us.”
“Hmm.” Simeon had been totally amazed to see the coin in the fish’s mouth, but he hadn’t thought about it as a teaching moment. “Like what?”
“Think about it. Think about what h
appened, and how it happened. Is there anything that strikes you as odd?”
Simeon laughed aloud. “To put a line in the water and pull out a fish with a gold stater in its mouth? No, I don’t think that’s odd at all.”
Peter chuckled too. “Sorry. Let me rephrase that. That’s not what I was talking about. Think about the rest of it. Or better yet, think what Jesus could have done instead.”
“I’m still not sure what you mean.”
“We had enough money in the bag to pay the tax, Simeon,” he said slowly. “And Jesus knew that. We had gone over our funds this morning.”
“You had?”
“Yes. Also, you and David had offered to give the required amount to us. There were probably a dozen others there this morning who would have gladly paid it. So why do it the way he did? What was he trying to teach us? To teach me?”
“Well, what he said about the children not owing tribute, that really hit me hard. It was a subtle but powerful reminder of who he is. He is the Son of God, the heir of the king. By rights, he doesn’t owe anything.”
“Yes, I came to the same conclusion.” Peter sat up now, looking down earnestly at Simeon. “But that lesson was given verbally. Once he had taught us the principle, why not just get a coin from the bag? Or ask someone if they would donate it for him?”
For a long time Simeon didn’t answer, his mind probing at the possibilities. Finally he began to nod. “Maybe it was a reminder that Jesus doesn’t depend on us to meet his needs. And it was certainly a reminder of his miraculous powers.”
Peter shook his head slowly. “I’ve been thinking about it all afternoon. Even though I never doubted that Jesus knew what he was talking about, it was still a shock when I pried that fish’s jaws open and there it was. It gave me the chills.”
“How in the world did that coin ever get in the fish’s mouth?” Simeon wondered.
“Oh, that’s not too hard to explain,” Peter answered. “It would be very unusual, but it’s not impossible. Let’s say someone on one of the many boats on the lake has a coin in his tunic. Somehow it falls overboard. The coin is bright and shiny. The sun catches it in the water and a fish strikes at it, thinking it is a worm or a bug. It is too big for the fish to swallow; hence, it stays in his mouth.”
A little surprised to hear him explain it away so easily, Simeon gave him a strange look.
Peter chuckled. “No, Simeon. What is incredible is this: how did Jesus know there was a fish out there with a coin in its mouth? How did he know that fish would be where I threw in the line? And exactly when?” His smile faded away. “The real miracle is not that the fish had a coin in its mouth. The miracle is that Jesus knew everything about it.”
“Yes,” Simeon echoed. “Yes, that’s it.”
“So, again I ask you. What are we supposed to learn from all this?”
“That Jesus is the Son of God.”
“We already knew that,” came the blunt retort. “What else?”
Again the silence stretched on for several seconds. It was Peter who finally broke it. “Think about this. When Absalom came, I was worried about the predicament Jesus might be in.” There was a soft explosion of self-derision. “Kind of ironic, isn’t it. Just this morning we were talking about how often we feel foolish as we deal with Jesus. Well, here’s another great example. Peter, the unlearned, imperfect, impetuous Galilean fisherman, is going to step in and solve a problem for the Son of God.”
Now Simeon sat up too, seeing finally what Peter was seeing. And he began to understand why Peter was so determined that Simeon should see it too.
“Jesus could have just told me all of that straight out,” Peter went on. “That’s not his way. He wants us to think about things. He wants us to discover things for ourselves.”
“So,” Simeon said, pouncing on that opening, “is that what’s going to happen if I ask him what I should do about Yehuda? Is he going to let me discover for myself what I’m doing wrong?”
“Here’s something to think about.” Peter shook his head. “No, two things.”
“What?”
“You haven’t decided that it’s all up to Simeon, have you? Strong, courageous, impetuous Simeon isn’t going to try to fix things that God doesn’t know how to fix, is he? He wouldn’t be as foolish as his good friend and mentor, Peter the fisherman, would he?”
“I—”
“Second item for consideration. Have you wondered if it might be that I was not the only one there today that Jesus was trying to teach?”
IV
By the time the other three apostles returned to where Simeon and Peter waited, it was dark. The wind, out of the west and stiff to begin with, had swung around so that it now came out of the northwest and had strengthened considerably. Peter stood at the edge of the water, head back, as though sniffing the wind to discern its intention. At the sound of voices, he turned.
“Ho, Andrew? Did you get the bread?”
The approaching figure held up a bulging cloth bag. “Yes.”
“Then we must be off. The wind is contrary. It’s going to take some doing to make our way toward Bethsaida.”
James came over to stand beside Peter. “I agree. We had better eat on the boat.”
“Where are we supposed to meet Jesus?” Simeon asked.
John moved forward as well. “Somewhere between here and Bethsaida.” Then he laughed at the dubious look on Simeon’s face. There was no moon as yet and it was very dark. Even when the moon did come up it would be no more than a bare crescent, surely not yielding enough light to see a person who was any distance away. “We’ll light the fishing lamp,” he explained, “and stay within hailing distance of the shore. Actually, it’s more a question of Jesus finding us than of us finding him.”
Simeon relaxed a little. Most fishermen on the Sea of Galilee had a pole near the bow on which they hung an oil lamp enclosed in glass. The light would not only attract the fish to the surface but help the fishermen see them when they did come up, so they could cast their nets in that direction. That was one of the reasons the best fishing was at night.
“We’ll have to keep a sharp ear,” James said. “The wind will be blowing toward shore and it will be hard to hear him.”
Peter was already wading out to grab the anchor line. “Come, brethren,” he called to the rest of them. “Let’s get underway.”
V
On the Sea of Galilee 26 June, a.d. 30
Simeon clutched the side of the boat tightly, letting his body roll with the pitching and yawing of the craft. He had quickly learned that trying to brace himself too stiffly only made things worse. He thought he had been out enough with the fishermen over his lifetime that his stomach could take anything, but he was growing close to being sick. He looked up and saw Peter grinning at him in the yellow light of the lamp that bobbed and danced from the long pole at the bow. James and Andrew were at the center of the boat, swinging the long oars up and forward, then dropping them into the water and pulling back with all their strength. In the light of the lamp, Simeon could see that their faces were streaked with sweat in spite of the stiff wind that had turned almost cold now. Behind Simeon, John manned the rudder. He peered through the darkness to where there was supposed to be a shoreline.
“Is this as bad as that night when Jesus stilled the storm?” Simeon called.
Peter threw back his head and laughed. “About half as bad, I would say.”
“Not even that,” James amended.
Simeon groaned. What must that night have been like? Tonight, the boat would lift as each wave passed beneath it, rising higher and higher. Then it would plunge downward, sending Simeon’s stomach into his throat. The waves were high enough that some were cresting into whitecaps. When they did, the wind caught the spray and flung it against their faces. Simeon was soaked, cold, and very, very tired.
Simeon had long ago given up trying to tell if they were making progress. As Peter had so casually described it, the wind “was contrary.” They had to ke
ep the bow at an angle to the wind, and even then it would have blown them back if it weren’t for the rowing. He wasn’t sure how long it would be before dawn came, but there was no hint of it yet. He was certain that they were well into the fourth watch of the night, so they had been at this grueling battle now for six or seven hours.
For a time, just after they had put out, he had watched a solitary light—probably from a fisherman’s hut—slide slowly past them, barely a speck in the darkness. It was greatly disheartening to see how slowly it fell away. Now there was nothing. The moon was up, but it offered little illumination. Simeon just hoped John could make out the darker shape of land, because he certainly couldn’t. Bethsaida was supposedly just five or six miles from Gergesa. So why couldn’t they see any lights?
Despairing, he tapped James on the shoulder. “My turn.”
James nodded, lifted the oar and slid out from beneath it. Simeon slipped into his place. “Jesus has probably given up on us by now,” he said to Andrew, who sat beside him now.
Andrew gave a quick, emphatic shake of his head. “He’ll see our light.”
“But what if we don’t hear him when he shouts?”
John leaned forward. “Peter’s got the ears of a rabbit,” he said. “He can tell down to half a dozen cubits how close we are to shore.”
That was comforting. But Simeon was still worried. It was so black. With no lights to serve as a reference point, what if they ran aground?
Andrew nudged Simeon mischievously. “That’s why we let Peter stand up there while the rest of us do all the work.”
“I heard that,” Peter growled.
Simeon chuckled. It built his confidence to know that while they were all working very hard to keep the boat moving forward, none of these men, who made their living from the sea, seemed overly anxious about the situation. Simeon remembered that on the night when Jesus had stilled the storm, Peter had admitted they had all been terrified and despaired of their lives.
“My turn at the oars, Andrew,” John said.
They too changed places, and Andrew moved back to take the rudder.
As the two settled into their new positions, Peter gave a low cry. He wrapped one arm around the lamp pole and leaned forward, wiping the spray from his eyes. “Something ahead,” he shouted, pointing with the other arm.
Fishers of Men Page 74