Fishers of Men

by Gerald N. Lund

  “Master!” It was Peter who spoke. “Master, look. The tree.”

  Jesus turned and let his eyes run up the height of the fig tree, then turned to his chief apostle. “Yes?”

  “This is the tree you cursed just yesterday,” Peter said. “Look how quickly it has withered away, even down to its roots.”

  Jesus nodded, not at all surprised by this phenomenon. For a moment it seemed as if he was going to say nothing more. Then he turned and looked around at the circle of his disciples. “Have faith in God. Truly I say unto you, if you have faith, and doubt not in your heart, and believe those things which you say shall come to pass, you shall not only do this which is done to this fig tree, but also if you should say unto this mountain, ‘Be thou removed, and be thou cast into the sea,’ behold, it too shall be done.”

  He looked around at his dumbfounded followers, then nodded thoughtfully. “Therefore I say this unto you. Whatsoever things you desire, when you pray, believe that you shall receive them, and you shall receive.”

  With that, he lifted an arm and motioned for them to proceed. They did so, but one by one, as each man passed, they paused for a moment before the tree, deeply sobered. Time after time they had seen Jesus’ power used for good—to still the storm, heal the sick, bless the infirm. The skeletal form that loomed above them showed them something else entirely. For the first time in their experience with Jesus, his power had been turned against something.

  No one spoke as they made their way slowly up and over the Mount of Olives toward Jerusalem.

  Chapter Notes

  Since Jesus spoke in Aramaic, it is unlikely he would have used the Greek word kathedra, which is translated as “seat” in Matthew 23:2. But since the New Testament was written in Greek, and kathedra is the word used in the Greek, this device was used by the author to explain the significance of what Jesus was actually saying (see Thayer, p. 312). Interestingly, those buildings that housed the highest officers of a religion came to be known as cathedrals, or the place of the kathedra.

  The fullest account of the Savior’s denunciation of the Pharisees is given by Matthew, which is the version used here (Matthew 23:1–39). Knowing the tremendous pride the Pharisees took in their commitment and almost obsessive obedience to the Law, is it any wonder that as Jesus criticized them again and again their leaders were eventually willing to join in the conspiracy to put Jesus to death?

  However, it must be remembered that the condemnation was not a universal one. It was aimed at those who were hypocrites, those who did pose as the pious and spiritually superior, but who in actuality used their religiosity as a cloak for deep wickedness and spiritual corruption. Such was not the case with all the Jewish religious leaders. We are told, for example, that Nicodemus was a Pharisee (John 3:1). Mark calls Joseph of Arimathea an “honourable counsellor” (Mark 15:43), suggesting he was a member of the Sanhedrin. And John says, “Nevertheless among the chief rulers also many believed on him; but because of the Pharisees they did not confess him, lest they should be put out of the synagogue” (John 12:42; emphasis added). After Christ’s death, we are told a “great company of the priests were obedient to the faith” (Acts 6:7) and that there were “certain of the sect of the Pharisees which believed” (Acts 15:5).

  In Matthew’s account, it says that the fig tree withered and died “presently” (Matthew 21:19), making it sound as if the cursing and the resulting death of the tree happened all at once. But in Mark’s account, he explains that it was the next day when they came upon the tree again (Mark 11:12–14, 20).

  This miracle does seem somewhat strange at first, for it seems to be a use of Christ’s power not to heal or lift, but to destroy. However, knowing that Jesus never misused his power or did anything without specific purpose, one has to ask about the significance of this event. One commentator suggests that the miracle provided a unique teaching opportunity directly related to his teachings about the Jewish leadership at that time.

  “In order to understand the case of the fig-tree, the first thing to attend to is the fig-tree’s law of growth and fruit-bearing. What is it? It is that leaves and fruit appear together and disappear together. As soon as the leaves begin to bud the figs begin to form. . . . But with regard to the tree on the Mount of Olives, we are told that it was not yet the time of figs (Mark xi.13). This fact, which seems at first to excuse the tree, was what really led to its condemnation. If it was not the time of figs, it was not the time of foliage. The tree was in advance of its companions as to leaves, and by its own law of life, that is, the custom of having foliage and figs at the same time, such leadership in outward show should have been accompanied by a similar forwardness in fruit bearing. But ‘he found nothing thereon, but leaves only.’ It was a vegetable Sanhedrin. It seemed to be possessed by the spirit that created the long robe and the large phylactery-box. Sins against God were bad enough, but Pharisaism claimed to be for God. Pharisee and fig-tree were alike as to profession without practice. It was the only thing which called forth the stern indignation of Christ. ‘Scribes, Pharisees’—and this unnatural fig-tree—‘hypocrites!’” (Mackie, pp. 52–53; emphasis added).

  Chapter 25

  Then shall the kingdom of heaven be likened unto . . .

  —Matthew 25:1

  I

  Jerusalem, the Temple Mount 2 April, a.d. 33

  Peter was in turmoil. Every day seemed to bring a new clash, seemed to heighten the tensions, seemed to create greater danger. As he and the other apostles followed Jesus around the great openness of the Court of the Gentiles, his eyes darted here and there, watchful for trouble. And each time they stopped on the east end of the Royal Portico, home to the council chambers of the Great Sanhedrin, he felt a disturbing tightness in his chest. And yet Jesus had more than once made it very clear that he was not going to walk away from all of this.

  From the time he had become a disciple, Peter had seen Jesus criticize the pomposity of the Pharisees, condemning their hypocrisy. But what had happened yesterday in the Court of the Women was like nothing he had ever seen before. It was the first time he had witnessed such a vitriolic attack. The Master’s words had been scalding, enough to blister the flesh. What he had said was more than criticism; it was confrontation. It was an open declaration of war. And Peter could just imagine the reaction when Caleb and Menachem had returned to the Sanhedrin with their report.

  He suddenly felt very old. Jesus kept talking about the possibility of his coming death. Now for the first time, Peter understood how that might happen. He had seen hatred in its purest form, and he knew it was deep enough to lead to murder.

  And yet, Jesus was the Messiah. He had to keep reminding himself of that. Jesus was the Son of God. He could still a storm with a word, cleanse a leper with a touch, give sight to the blind who had never before seen, and beckon the dead forth from the tomb. That was the only thing that gave the fisherman any hope. The Great Sanhedrin wielded enormous power, but compared to the power Jesus controlled? His breath leaked out in a long, drawn-out sigh. Compared to the Son of God, the Great Council was no more than the seed of the thistle being carried along in the breeze. No power on earth could take Jesus’ life from him.

  “Master?”

  The voice of Simon Zelotes brought Peter out of his thoughts. He turned to watch.

  “Yes?” Jesus said.

  “The temple and all of its buildings are indeed wondrous, are they not?”

  Like Peter, everyone in the group, including Jesus, seemed to have been lost in his own thoughts as they walked slowly along. They had not said anything for several minutes. Now Jesus nodded, almost absently.

  Guessing what his fellow apostle was trying to do, Peter was glad. They needed to get their minds off this looming sense of disaster, move away from this deep foreboding they were all feeling. If some light conversation would help them do that, all the better.

  “It is no surprise that it has taken forty-six years to build it, and it’s still not finished,” Peter chimed in
. “Think how many stones had to be cut and placed just for the surrounding walls. And some of those stones are absolutely massive.”

  Jesus was giving them his full attention. He let his eyes take in the mass of the temple with its walled courts and inner sanctums. “You see all these things?” he said thoughtfully. “Well, truly I say unto you, soon there shall not be left one stone upon another here that shall not be thrown down.”

  The Twelve stopped walking, almost as one. Jesus smiled sadly, looking from face to face, then turned and started walking again, his hands behind his back. They fell in behind him, looking at each other in complete perplexity. Not one stone upon the other? That was like saying that tomorrow there would be no sunrise, no wind, no flowers. It had taken more than four decades with thousands of workers to create this complex. Surely he couldn’t be speaking literally.

  “Did I hear what I thought I just heard?” Matthew said in a low voice, looking at Peter.

  Bartholomew was nodding, his eyes wide. “Not one stone upon the other? That’s what he said.”

  “I think the sun has . . .” It was Judas speaking, and he caught himself quickly. He had been about to say, “left him somewhat addled,” but decided it was imprudent to complete his thought.

  “Surely he wasn’t speaking of these stones,” John ventured. “Maybe he misunderstood what we were talking about.”

  Andrew shook his head. “Don’t you remember what he said the other day?”

  “When?” Simon Zelotes asked. He was the most troubled. It had been his comment that had brought forth the stunning response.

  “The day of his triumphal entry, just after we crossed the top of the Mount of Olives.”

  John began to nod. “When he wept for Jerusalem.”

  “That’s right,” Andrew said in a low voice. Jesus was a good twenty-five or thirty paces away from them and hadn’t noticed that all of his disciples were not right behind him, so Andrew hurried on. “He said that the days were coming when our enemies would cast a trench about us and compass us round about.”

  “That sounds like the Romans,” James ventured. “That’s how they lay siege to a city.”

  “And then,” Andrew went on, “if you remember, he said something like this: ‘And they’—our enemies—‘shall lay you even with the ground and will not leave one stone upon the other.’ I can remember feeling a chill come over me as he said it.”

  They all nodded soberly. Then Peter glanced up and saw that the Master had stopped and was watching them.

  “Come,” he said with a start. “He’s waiting for us.”

  As they hurried forward, looking somewhat embarrassed, Andrew sidled closer to his younger brother. “Ask him, Peter,” he said in a hushed tone. “Ask him what he meant.”

  Peter shook his head. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he whispered back. “At least, not now.”

  II

  Outside Jerusalem, the Mount of Olives

  They left the Temple Mount by the eastern gate, crossed the Kidron Valley, and started the long climb up the west-facing slope of the Mount of Olives. Jesus didn’t speak the whole way. He didn’t ask what they had been talking about or open an opportunity to ask him questions. He seemed far away, lost in his own thoughts.

  To Peter’s surprise, about three quarters of the way up the hill, Jesus turned off the main road, taking a narrow path that led past two or three small stone houses, then petered out into an olive grove. Though the air was still pleasant, the western sky was clearing, and the sun had come out. They were all perspiring from the steepness of the climb. Jesus stopped, looked around for a moment, then moved into the shade of one of the larger olive trees and sat down. As the apostles looked for places of their own, Peter realized that Jesus had chosen a spot where the hillside dropped away sharply enough that it left them a spectacular view of the city.

  In a moment, everyone was settled and silence fell over the group. Jesus leaned forward, his arms folded on his knees, and rested his chin on his arms. In that position, he gazed out directly on the temple. If they had expected him to speak, they were disappointed. Jesus still seemed distant and withdrawn. After almost five minutes, Andrew nudged Peter. “Ask him!” he mouthed. John and James nodded their encouragement.

  Still worried that he might be intruding when Jesus was looking for some peace, Peter shifted his weight uncomfortably. The sound brought Jesus’ head up. His expression was hard to read, but it seemed open and inviting. Peter swallowed quickly and plunged in. “Master, in the temple, you spoke of what sounded like great troubles for Jerusalem. Tell us. When shall these things be?” And then on impulse he added: “You have taught us previously that you will come again before the ending of the world. Tell us also, if you will, what shall be the sign of your coming and of the end of the world?”

  Andrew shot Peter an admiring and grateful look. Peter was far more daring than his brother had thought he would be.

  Jesus sat up straight, looking at these, his closest followers, one by one. Seeing that he was going to answer, Philip, Judas, and James changed positions so everyone was in a tighter circle, facing Jesus.

  “Take heed that no man deceive you about this matter,” Jesus began, “for many shall come in my name, saying, I am the Christ, or the Messiah. And they shall deceive many. And you shall hear of wars and rumors of wars. See that you are not troubled, for all these things must come to pass, but that does not mean the end is here.”

  He paused. He seemed pleased by their attentiveness and went on more slowly. “For nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There shall be famines and pestilence and earthquakes in divers places. All of these are but the beginning of sorrows.”

  His voice became low and heavy. “Then shall they deliver you up to be afflicted. And you shall be betrayed by parents, brethren, kinsfolk, and friends. And some of you shall they cause to be put to death.”

  Peter looked at Andrew in open dismay. This was not what he had expected.

  “And you shall be hated of all men for my name’s sake, but there shall not perish even one hair of your head. So in patience possess your souls.” He drew in a deep breath. “At that time, many false prophets shall rise, and shall deceive many. And because iniquity shall abound, the love of many shall wax cold. But he that shall endure faithful unto the end, the same shall be saved.”

  His eyes closed momentarily, as if there had been a sudden pain. When they opened again, they were dark and gloomy. “When you shall see Jerusalem compassed with armies, then know that the desolation thereof is nigh. Then let them which be in Judea flee into the mountains. Let him which is on the housetop not come down to take anything out of his house, neither let him which is in the field return back to take his clothes. Wo unto them that day that are with child, and to them that give suck, for these be the days of vengeance, that all things which are written may be fulfilled.

  “Then shall be great tribulation, such as was not since the beginning of the world to this time, no, nor ever shall be again. There shall be great distress in the land, and wrath upon this people. They shall fall by the edge of the sword, and shall be led away captive into all nations. And Jerusalem shall be trodden down of the Gentiles until the times of the Gentiles be fulfilled. Except those days should be shortened, there should no flesh be saved. But for the elect’s sake, those days shall be shortened.” He looked up, letting his eyes move from face to face.

  Peter knew his own face must mirror the pain on Jesus’ face. His heart clenched with horror at the imagery of Jesus’ words. There before him lay the Holy City in all its glory. What Jesus had just described was almost impossible for Peter to even imagine.

  Peter cleared his throat, a dozen questions tumbling in his mind. But before he could speak, Jesus continued. His voice was so low they had to lean forward to hear him. “Immediately after the tribulation of those days shall the sun be darkened, and the moon shall not give her light. The stars shall fall from heaven, and the powers of the heavens sh
all be shaken. Then shall appear the sign of the Son of man in heaven. Then shall all the tribes of the earth mourn, for they shall see the Son of man coming in the clouds of heaven with power and great glory. And he shall send his angels with a great sound of a trumpet, and they shall gather together his elect from the four winds, from one end of heaven to the other.”

  Peter broke in, unable to stop himself. “How shall we know when these things shall be?”

  Jesus turned and looked at this apostle he loved so deeply, nodding at the appropriateness of the question. “I would have you learn a parable of the fig tree. When its branch is yet tender and puts forth leaves, you say that summer is nigh.”

  Peter nodded. The fig tree, of all trees in their country, was the last to come into full leaf. Somehow it always knew if there was one more cold snap yet to come and waited until it had passed. It was a common saying among the people that if the fig tree was in leaf, then you knew that summer had come.

  “So likewise shall you,” Jesus continued, “when you shall see all these things, know that the time is near, even at the doors. But of the day and the hour, no man knows, no, not even the angels of heaven, but my Father only. Watch, therefore, for you know not what hour your Lord doth come.”

  “Lord?” It was John, who sat just to the left of the Master.

  “Yes?”

  “How then shall we prepare ourselves for these tribulations?”

  The silence stretched on for a very long time as Jesus looked first at John, then at Peter, then at Judas and the others, and finally out on the city and the temple.

  Jesus nodded gravely. John’s was perhaps the best question of all. “At that time,” he began, “when I shall come in my glory, then shall the kingdom of heaven be likened unto ten virgins, which took their lamps and went forth to meet the bridegroom. And five of them were wise, and five were foolish. They that were foolish took their lamps and took no oil with them.”