Fishers of Men

by Gerald N. Lund

  Aaron shook his head. “I already have the answer to that.” He offered a wry smile. “If he appeared to me, I would probably demand some proof that he was real.”

  Simeon laughed aloud. It wasn’t often that Aaron surprised him, but he did with that.

  “Does it really matter?” Miriam mused aloud.

  Everyone turned to her in surprise.

  “Well,” she said, a little defensively. “Of course I am thrilled beyond words to think that I was one of the first to see him. It was the most glorious experience imaginable. But my belief in the living Jesus doesn’t rest on that.” She stole a glance at Aaron. “Leah wasn’t there, and yet she believes.”

  Aaron’s color darkened. There was nothing he could say to that except “Guilty as charged.”

  “Will Jesus have to go around and appear to every person he wants in his kingdom?” she continued. “I can’t imagine that will be the case. What about when we return home? Aren’t we going to tell others about this? Can they believe on our words alone, or will Jesus have to appear to them too?”

  “Miriam’s right,” Deborah said. “What matters is not what you see, but what you believe.”

  “I agree,” Aaron finally said. He spoke slowly and with deliberation. “And you are right, of course, Miriam.” He blew out his breath, searching for the right words. But he didn’t have a chance to find them because Peter was on his feet again.

  The conversations quickly died away. As the room quieted, Peter motioned for Luke and Cleopas to come forward.

  “I know you’re still eating, some of you, but I’d like you to hear what these two have to say. I am tempted to say some things in introduction, but I think it will mean more if they just tell you what they told me when they first arrived here.” He stepped back and went over to sit beside Anna.

  Luke looked at Cleopas, who was several years younger than the physician, but Cleopas nodded for him to go ahead. Luke cleared his throat and began.

  “As some of you know, the two of us left early this afternoon to make the short trip to Emmaus. Cleopas had some business, and I went to help him. As we walked along, you can imagine what the main topic of our conversation was. We talked solely of the events of the past few days, and especially what happened this morning.”

  “Without us really noticing,” Cleopas came in, “a fellow traveler joined us. He listened for a time; then, suddenly, he asked us a question. ‘What are these things you talk about with one another as you walk?’ he said.

  “I could hardly believe it,” Cleopas continued. “I asked, ‘Have you been here in Jerusalem and yet know nothing of the things that have come to pass these last few days?’ He looked at us both, completely unruffled by my question and asked again of what things we spoke.”

  Luke took up the story again. “So we told him about Jesus, how he was a prophet, mighty in word and deed before God and all the people. We explained how the chief priests and elders had him arrested and then delivered him up to be condemned to death and crucified.”

  “He didn’t say anything to that,” Cleopas said. “So we began telling him about what happened this morning.” His eyes sought out Mary Magdalene from the rest of the crowd, and he smiled at her, but surprisingly, at the same time, he looked a little sheepish. “We told him about how some of our women had gone to the tomb, then had come back with a report that angels had told them that Jesus was alive.”

  “Didn’t you tell him that we had actually seen Jesus?” Mary asked.

  He dropped his head and looked away.

  Luke winced but met her gaze. “We did not. We were not sure he would believe us.” He gave a short, self-deprecating laugh. “We were not even sure what we believed at that point. We did tell him about Peter and John going to the tomb and finding it just as the women said, which only deepened the mystery.”

  Peter leaned forward. “Go on, Luke. Tell them all of it.”

  Luke straightened. “Well, it was about then that the man began to upbraid us a little. He spoke very plainly. ‘O foolish men,’ he said, ‘and slow of heart to believe in all the prophets have spoken. Know you not that it behooved Christ to suffer these things and enter into his glory?’”

  Cleopas’s eyes were bright with excitement. “What happened next was astounding. Starting with Moses, and then from the prophets and the Psalms, he opened the scriptures to us concerning the Messiah.”

  “Such as?” Aaron called out.

  They looked at each other; then Luke took the question. “There were many. They just came rolling out one after another.”

  “Give us one example,” Aaron demanded.

  Luke thought for a moment, then nodded. He found John in the crowd and motioned for him to stand. “John, you heard a report on Judas and his betrayal from a source you have at the palace of Caiaphas. Would you tell us what price the Sanhedrin paid Judas for turning over Jesus to them?”

  “Thirty pieces of silver,” John called out.

  Aaron went rigid, his face draining of color. “Thirty pieces of silver?” he echoed hoarsely.

  “Yes, Aaron. Would you please tell us why that is so significant to you?”

  Aaron got to his feet; then, with his voice tinged with wonder, he began. “The following is written in the words of Zechariah: ‘And I said unto them, If ye think good, give me my price; and if not, forbear. So they weighed for my price thirty pieces of silver.’”

  “Thank you,” Luke murmured. He took a deep breath and straightened. “Hearing him expound the scriptures to us was marvelous. He must have talked with us for an hour.”

  “Who was this man?” Aaron muttered. “Is he a disciple?”

  Luke ignored the question. “By this time, we had reached Emmaus, and it was late in the afternoon. When we told him we were going to stop there for the night, he made as if he had to continue on. But we entreated him to abide with us. It had been such a wonderful experience. Our hearts had burned as he communed with us, and we didn’t want that to end. And so he agreed.”

  He started to go on but suddenly couldn’t continue. He motioned for Cleopas to take over. He did so in hushed tones. “It was when we were about to break bread. The stranger took the loaf and broke it for us.” His voice caught. “That’s when we saw his hands.”

  Several people around the room audibly gasped.

  “It was the Master?” Aaron exclaimed.

  “Yes,” Luke said. “It was. For some reason, a veil had been drawn over our eyes up to that moment, and we had not recognized him. But all that time, we had been speaking with Jesus.”

  “As quickly as we recognized him,” Cleopas concluded, “he vanished. Just like that, disappeared from the room, and we were all alone.”

  Luke shook his head, his eyes filled with tears. “That’s when Cleopas and I decided to hurry back here as quickly as we could to tell you.”

  Peter stood again. He embraced both men, then looked around. “Thank you. Now I, too, have something to tell you.”

  Chapter Notes

  There are ten or eleven recorded appearances of Jesus to his disciples following his resurrection from the dead. These took place over a forty-day period (see Acts 1:3) known as the post-resurrection ministry. They are: (1) to Mary Magdalene at the tomb (John 20:11–18); (2) to other women after they had seen the angels and were hurrying back to tell the disciples (Matthew 28:9–10); (3) to Peter (Luke 24:34; see also 1 Corinthians 15:5); (4) to Cleopas and an unnamed disciple on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:13–32); (5) to a group of disciples on the evening of that first Sunday (Luke 24:36–43; John 20:19–25); (6) to a group of disciples the following Sunday when Thomas was present and was allowed to see the Savior for himself (John 20:26–31); (7) to seven apostles—Peter, James, John, Andrew, Nathanael, and two others not named—on the shores of the Sea of Galilee (John 21:1–25); (8) to the eleven apostles on a mountain in Galilee (Matthew 28:16–20); (9) to five hundred brethren at once (1 Corinthians 15:6); (10) to James, mentioned only once by Paul (1 Corinthians 15:7); (11
) at his ascension from the Mount of Olives (Acts 1:3–12). The first five, and possibly number ten, all took place on the day of the resurrection itself. Some believe the final ascension and the appearance to the five hundred may be the same. If so, this would be ten appearances.

  Because all these appearances are not cited in the novel, some parts of what the resurrected Christ said on later occasions are placed on that first night in the upper room.

  Luke is the only writer who includes the story of the two disciples meeting Jesus on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:13–32), though Mark makes brief mention of it as well (Mark 16:12–13). Luke names Cleopas but not the second man. Some believe that this was Luke’s way of not taking glory to himself, he likely being the second disciple (see Edersheim, Life and Times, p. 912). This would explain why he could give such a detailed account.

  No specific scriptures are listed by Luke as being those quoted by the Savior in his discourse to them on the prophecies of his death and resurrection. (The reference in Zechariah is 11:12–13.) Here is a possible list of other references he may have cited, especially focusing on the Psalms, since those are specifically named (see Luke 24:44):

  Psalm 22:1. My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?

  Psalm 22:7–8. All they that see me laugh me to scorn: they shoot out the lip [an idiom for mockery], they shake the head, saying, He trusted on the Lord that he would deliver him: let him deliver him, seeing he delighted in him.

  Psalm 22:16. The assembly of the wicked have inclosed me: they pierced my hands and my feet.

  Psalm 22:18. They part my garments among them, and cast lots upon my vesture.

  Psalm 41:9. Yea, mine own familiar friend, in whom I trusted, which did eat of my bread, hath lifted up his heel against me.

  Psalm 69:21. They gave me also gall for my meat; and in my thirst they gave me vinegar to drink.

  Isaiah 53:3–5. He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.

  Isaiah 53:9. And he made his grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his death.

  Zechariah 9:9. 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.

  Chapter 40

  And there are also many other things which Jesus did, the which, if they should be written every one, I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books that should be written.

  —John 21:25

  Jerusalem, Upper City, House of Jephunah ben Asa 6 April, a.d. 33

  By the time Peter finished his account of seeing Jesus, there was so much excitement in the room that he decided to let it run itself out before trying to conduct any further business. Aaron looked around, then got to his feet, plate in hand. He looked down at his wife. “I’m going to get some more almonds. Would you like anything else?”

  Hava retrieved her empty plate and handed it up to him. “No, I’m fine, thank you.”

  “Anyone else?”

  Ephraim got to his feet. “I want some more cheese, but I’ll come get it.”

  “I’ll come too,” said Leah. The others all shook their heads.

  Aaron led out, threading his way around the small groups seated on the floor. The serving tables had been set up near the door, which was barred and locked for security. When the guests had seated themselves, they had left a wide space around the tables to allow others easy access to the food. As Aaron moved into the open space, his eyes were focused on the dish of almonds, noting that there were still plenty of the nuts left.

  Suddenly, directly in his line of sight, a figure materialized out of thin air, cutting off his view of the table. Aaron jumped back, screaming aloud. The plates went flying and hit the wall with a shattering crash. Eyes bulging, he started backpedaling and backed straight into Ephraim, who was frozen in place, staring at the personage before them. The figure was dressed in a full, dazzling white robe, with sleeves to the wrists. He wore no sandals on his feet and had no covering on his head.

  “Shalom,” the figure said in a low, rich voice. “Peace be unto you.”

  Aaron thought his heart was going to burst inside his chest. He could feel the veins hammering in his throat. Dimly, he was aware of women screaming, men shouting and scrambling to get out of the way. All around him, people were falling to the ground, throwing their arms across their faces. Aaron was rooted to the spot, his eyes riveted to the face of the man before him. It was Jesus. Unquestionably. He was only three or four steps away from Aaron. It was him!

  And then Aaron realized something else with shocking clarity. The door was still barred. The windows were still heavily shuttered. Jesus had come from nowhere to stand before them.

  “Be not frightened,” Jesus said, raising his voice enough to be heard by all, but still speaking with great gentleness and perfect calm.

  “It’s a spirit!” a woman gasped. “A specter!”

  “No, it’s him!” cried another. “It’s Jesus.”

  Jesus took a step forward. In spite of feeling as if every ounce of his strength had drained away, Aaron stumbled backwards, trying to get out of the way.

  “Why are you troubled?” Jesus asked. “Did not the others tell you that I was risen? Why then do you doubt?”

  He looked around at the circle of ashen faces, slack jaws, and wide, astonished eyes. “Why do you reason thus in your hearts about whether I am a spirit or not?”

  He took another step forward, extending his hands towards them, palms up.

  Aaron gasped. The flesh of the palms was torn and scarred. The sleeves of his robe pulled back slightly, revealing the terrible wounds in the wrists, as jarring and vivid and real as those in his hands.

  “See my hands and my feet,” Jesus said, his voice softer now. The screaming and shouting had stopped, and a great hush came over the room. “It is I myself. Touch me and see, for a spirit hath not flesh and bones as ye see me have.”

  Jesus turned to one side. Leah had dropped to her knees, her hands over her eyes. He bent down and touched her on the shoulder. “See for yourself,” he said, and held out his hands to her.

  Slowly she raised herself, staring first at the hands, then up into Jesus’ smiling face. He nodded his encouragement. Gingerly, as if she were about to touch a hot coal, she reached out and touched the center of his palm. A sob was torn from inside her and tears burst forth. Clutching blindly with her other hand, the young woman grasped both of the Master’s hands and laid them against her cheek. “Oh, Master!” she cried.

  Jesus straightened. He looked directly at Aaron, who was right in front of him. Slowly, his eyes never leaving him, he reached up and pulled back the fold in his robe that angled across his chest. Now Aaron dropped to his knees as well. There, just below the rib cage, was a three-inch scar, with the edges of the flesh pulled back a little from the wound, evidence of the reverse force of the spear being withdrawn.

  Aaron buried his face in his hands and began to sob. But he couldn’t bear to miss seeing what was happening. Through the blur of tears, he saw Ephraim on one knee beside him. He had both of Jesus’ hands in his and was tracing the wounds in the wrists with his fingertip. His eyes were huge. His mouth was open in unabashed astonishment.

  Did you touch him? Suddenly the question that had been Aaron’s obsession flashed into his mind. He had asked it of Mary Magdalene. He had asked it of Miriam and Deborah. He looked up into the eyes of the Master. Jesus gave another radiant smile and then a nod of encouragement. Trembling so violently he could hardly stand, Aaron leaned forward on his knees, reaching out to touch Jesus.

  The warmth shock
ed him. He had expected the flesh to be cold and hard. But the hands were warm and soft. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision. He could feel the roughness of the wounds beneath his own hands. The scarred flesh scraped against his own. In great wonder, he thrust his finger against the wrist and felt the depression there, now healed, but still grim evidence of the driving force of the great nails.

  He jerked his hands away, suddenly feeling unworthy and ashamed. “O, Master,” he cried. “Forgive me.”

  For a moment, he felt the gentle pressure of Jesus’ hand on his shoulder; then Jesus moved away.

  Ten feet away, Livia had to prop herself against the wall to stop from collapsing. It was as though every muscle and sinew and bone in her body had turned to water. Waves of joy washed through her, strengthening and draining her at the same time. She watched with wide eyes as Jesus moved slowly around the room, stopping to let each person touch his hands, or press their hands against his side. Peter cried out in joy and fell at his feet and embraced his ankles, tears streaming down his face and into his beard. James, John, Andrew, Matthew—one by one the apostles dropped to their knees in adoration. Mary Magdalene, who had been forbidden to touch him that morning in the garden, now bathed his hands with her tears. Martha, Mary, and Lazarus, who himself had come forth from the tomb—one by one, with no rush, no sense of urgency, Jesus let each person come to know for themselves.

  Livia’s heart began to pound ever faster as he came closer. David was drawn to the Master in a long embrace. Simeon bowed his head, sure that he was unworthy to touch the hands, and was pulled to his feet. Jesus drew him and Miriam to him and let them touch his hands at the same time. Ephraim and Rachel knelt together, and Jesus touched them both on the shoulder. Deborah, who had already experienced this once, quietly knelt when Jesus finally reached her. She murmured something to him, and Jesus laughed softly.

  Even as he moved in front of her, Livia was afraid that he would look into her eyes, see the weakness that was there, and move away. “Master,” she whispered, lowering her head. “I would be a worthy disciple, Lord.”