Fishers of Men

by Gerald N. Lund

  “Never mind,” Simeon said, watching without triumph the reaction and the resulting dismay on Miriam’s face. “Don’t answer.”

  Miriam’s head had dropped too, and she was staring at her hands. Leah wasn’t sure what to say. The exchange had shocked her.

  “Now,” Simeon went on quickly, “I want to say something else, in answer to your very thoughtful and fair question.”

  Miriam’s eyes lifted to see if he was being sarcastic, but there was no mockery in his eyes. “Back when I said all that, I thought Miriam, daughter of Mordechai, was a pampered, egotistical, self-centered, aristocratic snob who desperately needed to be taken down a notch or two for her own good.”

  She gave him a wan smile. “So I made a good impression on you?”

  He ignored her question and continued. “I also learned that she had a tongue that could take off your hide as effectively as a Roman scourge.”

  “You should talk!” she cried.

  Leah clapped her hands at that. “Amen!”

  Simeon went right on, not meeting her eyes now. “I have since learned that I was far too hasty in my judgment.” He grinned momentarily. “Well, not about the part about her being rich and having a tongue of fire. But in the rest I was wrong.”

  She had started to react to his first comment, but then sat back. “You were?”

  “Yes. I learned that Miriam, daughter of Mordechai of Jerusalem, was a woman of courage. I learned that she cared so deeply for her servant that she was willing to risk her life for her. I also came to see that she and her servant girl, Livia of Alexandria, were so filled with integrity and honor that they left that comfortable and pampered existence to come north to try to save the life of the very man who had treated them with such shameful contempt.”

  Leah reached out and took Simeon’s hand and squeezed it hard. Miriam was speechless.

  Now Simeon looked at Miriam directly. “In the wild melee of that night at the Joknean Pass, I only thanked the two of you briefly for what you did for me. You both have put yourselves in grave danger. I am greatly relieved that you are going to Rome, much as you hate the idea. I am also grateful that you were allowed to come here first so that one very humbled and penitent Simeon ben David could offer both his thanks and his apology. It is long overdue.”

  III

  On the shores of the Sea of Galilee, near Capernaum 1 July, a.d. 30

  The group waiting near the boat of Peter and Andrew was small, and Simeon was grateful for that. Peter had brought his family, as did Andrew. James and John were there, but alone. Mary Magdalene had come with Jesus and his mother. Luke and his wife were there too. That surprised Simeon a little until his mother whispered to him that she had seen Luke and Livia conversing in Greek the night before while waiting for the men to clean up after supper.

  At the sight of Jesus, both Esther and Boaz broke free from their parents and ran to see him. Jesus was delighted, tossing Boaz up until he shrieked with joy; then Jesus gravely introduced the two children to his mother.

  “Shalom,” Peter said as he came over to join the family. “Are we ready?”

  Ezra spoke for all of them. “We are ready.”

  He nodded and led them over to Jesus. As they approached, Esther took Jesus by the hand and pulled him down. “Do you know Miriam?” she asked in a half-whisper.

  “Yes, I do,” Jesus answered, smiling at her seriousness.

  “She’s beautiful. I like her.”

  Miriam blushed, touched by the simple innocence of the statement. “And I like you too, Esther. Very much.”

  Again Esther tugged. Jesus bent down again. “And this is Livia, Miriam’s friend. She’s going to be baptized too.”

  “Yes, I know. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  Esther cupped a hand to her mouth and spoke into his ear, thinking that would prevent the others from hearing. “I wish my hair was like Livia’s.”

  Jesus chuckled richly, seeing Livia color now as well. “It is very pretty, isn’t it.”

  Rachel just shook her head, smiling at this little imp with the face of a sphinx. Lilly leaned over beside her. “How did you ever get one as absolutely priceless as she is?”

  “She is a gift from heaven,” Rachel said.

  To Lilly’s surprise, Jesus walked over to her and took her hand. “Shalom, Lilly of Joppa.”

  “Shalom, Master.”

  “You are here to become one of us.” It was a simple statement, not a question.

  “Yes, Master.”

  He was looking at her closely. “Deborah tells me that you are as Sarah and Hannah of old. Your marriage as yet has not been blessed with children.”

  Lilly’s eyes widened. She wasn’t sure what to say.

  “Both were choice daughters of God,” he said gently, “and women of faith. Eventually, both received the desire of their hearts.”

  “Yes, Lord.” Her heart had leaped within her. Though promised that she would be the mother of countless children, Sarah had gone childless until she was ninety years old. Then she had borne Isaac and became the great matriarch of the House of Israel. Hannah likewise had been barren and prayed year after year for a son. When the Lord finally opened her womb, she mothered the prophet Samuel. Was he saying . . . ?

  Before she could finish that thought, Jesus turned and took Ezra’s hand, but he continued to look at Lilly. “Does this man treat you well?”

  Lilly’s smile went suddenly misty. “Far better than I deserve.”

  Jesus nodded, obviously pleased. “That is as it should be.”

  He turned to Livia. As he took her hand, he glanced at Esther, who was watching all of this with her characteristic gravity. “I fear that you have created a touch of covetousness in our little queen,” he said, teasing Livia just a little.

  Livia started to answer, but he went on before she could. “I perceive that your heart is pure, Livia of Alexandria, as pure as that of this child.” He squeezed her hand momentarily. “It is not by mere chance that you are here this day.”

  Like Lilly, Livia was left speechless. His words had come as a total surprise.

  Next he turned to Miriam. “Peter and Anna have told me that your father is a member of the Great Council in Jerusalem.”

  “Yes,” Miriam murmured.

  “And what would he say if he knew you were here with me this morning?”

  Miriam was astounded. How much had David and Deborah told him? But the kindness in his eyes engulfed her, and she could not but answer him in complete honesty. “He would likely disown me and send me from his bosom. He says that you must be destroyed.”

  Jesus only nodded. “Remember this, which I have said to others before.” His voice had become like a touch on her cheek. “In the Law, Moses commanded us to honor father and mother. And rightly so. That is an obligation of great importance. But there are times when a man’s foes may be they of his own household.”

  Her head pulled back as she stared at him.

  “This is a hard saying, Miriam, but know this. If a person loves his father or mother more than me, he is not worthy of me. He that takes not his cross to follow after me, is not worthy of me.”

  Simeon was staring. Those were exactly the same words that Jesus had taught him several days before when he had asked Jesus about discipleship.

  Without even realizing it, tears had come to Miriam’s eyes. She was only aware of it when she felt the wetness start down her cheeks. “I know, Master,” she whispered.

  “Be of good cheer,” he said. “You have chosen the better part.”

  “Thank you.” She stepped back, embarrassed that her emotions had spilled over so easily.

  Simeon wondered if Jesus had deliberately waited to speak to him last. He tensed slightly as Jesus finally turned to him. “Shalom, Simeon.”

  “Shalom, Master.”

  “Last night, at supper, you seemed at peace.”

  “Yes, Lord. I am much more at peace since you spoke to me that day about being a disciple.”

&nbs
p; “You have not given up on your friends from Beth Neelah?”

  “No. I have what I hope is a better way to try to help them.”

  Jesus gave an approving nod. “Greater love has no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.”

  Simeon’s mouth opened slightly. Lay down his life? Was he suggesting—?

  But Jesus went on. “And what did you learn from what I said?”

  “I learned that no man, having once put his hand to the plow, can turn back and still hope to enter the kingdom of God. I learned that if we lack faith, we can sink into the waters of despair. I learned that, as the prophet Jeremiah says, man should never trust in the arm of flesh, even if that arm is his own.”

  “That is good, Simeon ben David.”

  Simeon turned to look at Miriam. “And I have learned that when you ask us to take up our cross and follow you, that may require very different sacrifices from each of us.”

  “Yes, very different,” Jesus responded.

  “It isn’t always easy, is it?” Simeon asked quietly.

  The brown eyes widened slightly. “Easy? Did you think it would be?”

  Simeon couldn’t meet that penetrating gaze. “No, I suppose not.”

  “I would that you should remember this, Simeon ben David. If you come to a time when you feel as though you can bear things no longer, when you feel as if you will be overcome with the weight you carry, remember this one thing.”

  His eyes peered deeply into Simeon’s, and it was as though they were the only two people in the world at that moment. His voice was softer, more filled with gentleness and love than Simeon had ever heard before. It offered an invitation that could not be ignored. “Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest unto your souls, for my yoke is easy,” he concluded softly, “and my burden is light.”

  “Yes, Lord,” Simeon murmured, barely able to speak. Jesus had seen into his soul.

  Jesus stepped back. “Peter, we have five people here who wish to enter the kingdom of God. Let us proceed.”

  IV

  Simeon fully expected to be disappointed. He had watched Miriam and then Livia and then Lilly come out of the water radiant with joy. As they wiped the water from their eyes and pulled back the wet hair from their faces, it was as though something in their very countenances had changed. Peace and serenity and fulfillment shone from their eyes.

  Ezra had been much more subdued in his reaction when James drew him out of the water, but Simeon had seen something in his eyes as well, something that Simeon couldn’t define.

  Now as he stood here, waist deep in the water, and listened to Peter’s brief prayer, Simeon was suddenly afraid he wouldn’t feel anything. And if he didn’t, what did that mean? Was he not ready after all?

  “Amen,” Peter said.

  “Amen,” Simeon murmured, realizing he hadn’t heard a word that Peter had said.

  Peter laid one hand firmly on Simeon’s back and another on his chest, then smiling broadly, he pushed him backwards.

  Simeon almost gasped as the cold water enveloped him, but clamped his mouth shut in time. He felt the pressure of Peter’s large hands for a moment, then was suddenly lifted up again. As his head broke the surface and he released his breath, Peter let go. Simeon tossed his head, flinging the dripping hair backwards, then wiped the water from his eyes.

  “Welcome to the kingdom, Brother,” Peter said, his voice filled with emotion. “Thank you for letting me be the one to bring you in.”

  “Thank you, Peter.” He turned, aware of hands clapping and cries of approval from the shore.

  Smiling, he moved forward even as he searched himself inwardly. There was nothing unusual. Nothing out of the ordinary. He felt gladness, satisfaction. He had wanted to do this for some time. But there was nothing like what he had seen on Miriam’s face or in Ezra’s eyes. Trying to hide his disappointment, he reached the shore and was swept up in his mother’s embrace. “You did it, Simeon.”

  “I did, Mother. Thank you for not giving up on me.”

  He shook hands with his father, who said nothing. He didn’t have to. His eyes shone with pride. Ephraim, Rachel, Leah, John, Anna, James—one by one he accepted their congratulations, murmuring the right responses, nodding at the right places. Esther let him touch her cheek but refused to hug him because he was all wet. Boaz seemed content to watch it all.

  Finally Simeon turned to Jesus, who waited quietly a step or two behind the others. He dreaded this moment. What if Jesus could see into his heart and sense that nothing had really changed?

  Then without a word, Jesus extended his hand and gripped Simeon’s firmly.

  “Master, I—Thank you.”

  And at that instant, as if they had been formed in letters of brilliant white, the following words came into his mind. Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and ye shall find rest unto your souls.

  He let go of Jesus’ hand, staring at him in wonder. Now he understood. It wasn’t joy, though joy was there. It wasn’t serenity, though he felt calmer than he could ever remember feeling. It was peace. A deep, abiding peace had flooded into his soul and he was . . . he searched for the word, then realized it was already there. He was at rest. At long last, his soul was at rest.

  He lowered his head, acknowledging the presence of the one who stood before him. “Truly, Master,” he whispered, “truly thou art the Son of God.”

  Chapter Notes

  There is no specific description in the four Gospels of a baptismal experience where newly converted followers of Christ were brought into the Church. However, we know that such baptisms did happen. Jesus taught Nicodemus that one could not enter into the kingdom of heaven without being born of the water and the Spirit (see John 3:5), and his final commandment to the Twelve was to go unto all the world and preach the gospel, promising that “he that believeth and is baptized shall be saved” (Mark 16:16; see also Matthew 28:19).

  There is one specific reference in John that tells us that Jesus and the apostles baptized (see John 3:22). After Jesus’ resurrection, we see numerous references to baptism as the mode of entry into the kingdom of heaven (see, for example, Acts 3:38; 8:36–39; 10:47–48; 16:33).

  Christ’s teachings about one’s foes being from one’s own household is found in Matthew 10:34–38. The statement about showing love by laying down one’s own life for one’s friends is based on John 15:13. The beautiful passage about taking the Savior’s yoke upon us is found in Matthew 11:28–30.

  Chapter 10

  For thou hast power over life and death; thou dost lead men down to the gates of Hades and back again.

  —Wisdom of Solomon 16:13

  I

  Capernaum 2 July, a.d. 30

  Deborah clung to Simeon, holding on to him fiercely. “Can’t you stay just one more day?” Seeing the answer forming in his eyes, she shook him roughly. “You were just baptized yesterday, Simeon. A mother has a right to savor some happiness before she has to start worrying again, doesn’t she?”

  He put his arms around her, pressing his cheek against her hair. “If Pilate were to change his mind and move up the date of the execution, I would never forgive myself.”

  “It’s going to take him several days,” David said, “maybe a week, to convert our assets to gold. You don’t just walk in and raise three talents of gold overnight.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “I know.”

  They were in a small corral behind the warehouse where the incoming wheat crop was currently being stored. Simeon’s horse was saddled and ready. At Simeon’s insistence, only his mother and father had come to see him off. He had said his farewells to the family and their guests from Joppa the night before. He wanted to be off. He had never liked saying good-bye.

  “Are you sure I shouldn’t come with you, Son?” David asked Simeon. “Two of us
can get more accomplished in less time.”

  He shook his head. “I feel bad enough leaving you at the height of the harvest season, Father. I’ll be fine.”

  “Did you know that Miriam volunteered to help?” Deborah said.

  “Help? How?”

  “By raising one of those talents herself.”

  “Oh, Mordechai would love that,” Simeon retorted.

  “Miriam told me that several years ago, her father gave her part of her inheritance and taught her how to invest it. Where she is his only child and he has no male heir, I suppose he wants her to be ready to inherit everything when he dies. As bright as she is, she has done very well for herself. She says she can get to that money without her father’s permission.”

  “Maybe so, but I’ll wager she can’t do it without his knowledge, and that would be the final blow for him. No, Miriam has more than done enough. I hope you told her no.”

  “We did,” David answered. “But she meant it. She wants to help.”

  Simeon nodded. It was an impressive offer, and he would have to remember to thank her for that as well on his return. “Are they still planning to leave for Gaulanitis later today?”

  “That’s what Ezra said. They’ll be gone two or three days. Leah tried to talk the women into staying here while Ezra goes so they can spend more time with Jesus, but Miriam promised her father that she would stay with Ezra. She won’t break that promise.”

  “That’s wise. Mordechai will question her about it when she sees him again.”

  “That will still give them about a week to listen to the Master before they have to travel to Caesarea.”

  “Speaking of Caesarea,” Simeon said, “once I have the money, I’ll probably go straight there. I don’t like the idea of wandering around with three talents of gold in my bags.”

  “Oh, Simeon be careful.”

  “I will, Mother. I promise.”

  “So many things could go wrong. Are you sure you shouldn’t go back to Beth Neelah? Issachar and the others want to free Yehuda almost as much as you do.”

  He was shaking his head before she finished.

  “Even half a dozen men, Simeon. You are so vulnerable if you go in all by yourself.”