The Fisherman (17 page)

There was so much in those few words he spoke that morning. It was the first time we ever heard him speak of his church. At the time we had no idea what it was. The nation of Israel we understood. His kingdom we thought we understood. But what was his church? Was it us—the special group of his faithful ones within the Jewish people? Or was it something else? At the time we had no idea. But one thing we did understand: a dramatic transformation was taking place in the Master's teaching.

We were hearing words we'd never heard before. We were being given concepts we couldn't even begin to grasp: “I will build my church . . . the gates of Hades shall not overpower it . . . I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven . . . whatever you shall bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you shall loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.” This was not Jesus the wise teacher sharing important principles for successful living. This was not even Jesus the great prophet drawing people to God. This was Jesus the Messiah, the Son of God, boldly proclaiming a mighty new work of God among men. He was imparting to us, his disciples, an authority that would be affirmed and secured by God himself. It was the first of many church principles Jesus would share with us throughout his final few months prior to his crucifixion. We did not understand them at the time, but following his departure, his Spirit brought them all flooding back to us, providing us with tools with which he built his church through us.

It was a remarkable experience. I had been used by the Spirit of God to speak the truth. I didn't know what to do next. True, the Spirit had been able to briefly speak to me and through me, just as he had once spoken through Balaam's ass. But I was still fundamentally a creature of the flesh, and having ventured briefly into this strange new land, I quickly retreated once again into my familiar, ego-driven world of self-glorification and selfish goals for the Son of God.

My affirmation of the Master's true identity provided Jesus with the opportunity for which he had been waiting. He immediately began to prepare us for the final phase of his earthly visit. He wanted us to know exactly what was going to happen to him. He wanted us to know that
he
knew exactly what was going to happen to him. He wanted us to know that his approaching death would not be the result of bad timing or bad luck or bad choices. It would be the crowning culmination of his brief visit among us, a visit in which everything, including his death, would be accomplished by his choice, in his way, in his time. He told us he was going to return to Jerusalem. He told us he would be subjected to great suffering at the hands of the elders and the chief priests and the scribes. He then told us this suffering would culminate with his own death, but three days following his death he would rise again.

His words brought a sudden surge within me. Bolstered by the memory of my recent glowing success, I once again felt strange forces within me prompting me to speak. And speak I did! I stood up, placed my two huge hands on the Master's shoulders, and with all the boldness and confidence within me, I bellowed, “God forbid it, Lord! This shall never happen to you.”

His condemnation of my lie came as quickly as had his confirmation of my truth. “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; for you are not setting your mind on God's interests, but man's.”

Do you think his words to me were harsh? I want you to know that what happened at that moment in my life was among the greatest expressions of kindness and love the Master ever showed me during his time among us. In those few minutes that morning, he provided me with a truth I never would have believed had I not experienced it myself, a truth that has delivered me from disaster more times than I can count in the years since the Living Word walked among us. The truth is not complicated. It is simply this: Apart from the Word of God, it is impossible for a human being to distinguish between the voice of the Holy Spirit and the voice of Satan. Twice that morning I had experienced a strong prompting from the spirit world causing me to speak. The first time that prompting had been from God himself. The second time it was from Satan. Both were real. Both had the appearance of truth to my mind. But one was consistent with the living Word of God. The other was not. One was from heaven; the other from the pit of hell.

Human flesh is so arrogant. We think because we sense the presence of the spirit world, because we know it is real, because it touches our minds and emotions, we can then distinguish between the Spirit of God and the spirits of the Evil One. The truth is, only the Word of God can give us the ability to tell the difference. My Lord gave me a precious gift that day. He freed me forever from my arrogant assumption that I can accurately discern between the multitude of voices in the spirit world seeking access to my mind and my emotions. It does not matter how good it feels, how right it seems. If the voice I hear deviates in any way, at any point, from the revealed truth of my God, I know I am being deceived.

From that day forward the Master's teaching changed dramatically not only in his private communication with us but also in his public teaching. Later that afternoon he gathered together the whole group of us who were traveling with him. He talked with us about “taking up our cross every day and following him.” It was another first, this reference to the cross, a reference that made no sense to us at the time. He told us if a person was determined to save his life, he would lose it, but if he was to lose his life for Jesus' sake, he would save it. He talked about a time when he would come in the glory of his Father, with his angels, and render judgment upon the whole world.

His words were as thrilling to us as they were mysterious. The time of his departure was approaching rapidly. He was not rushed. But neither was he distracted from his purpose. There was an intensity to his preparations for the final events of his time with us, an intensity evident to all of us. There were things he wanted us to know. He knew we would not yet understand, but the knowledge must be communicated and confirmed. And a few days following my confession of his true identity, he arranged for James, John, and me to receive a confirmation so dramatic, it reduced me once again to a babbling fool.

“Wake up, you big lug! Jesus wants us to go with him.”

I opened my eyes to find John kneeling beside me. His pathetic attempt at a pleasant whisper was not my idea of the best way to greet a new day. The sun wasn't up yet, and I wasn't sure I wanted to be either. I could see Jesus and James moving around in the semidarkness. The rest of the camp was still sound asleep. I felt my strong natural aversion to morning wrestling with the exhilarating prospect of some new adventure with the Master. In just a few minutes the exhilaration won out, and soon Jesus, James, John, and I were walking out of the silent camp in the half-light of the early morning.

We walked along in silence for a while, bathing in the gentle splendor of a sunrise that promised a glorious day ahead. We had no idea where we were going. After three years with the Master, I knew he wouldn't tell us even if we asked. It wasn't his way. And I knew it didn't matter anyway. If I was going with him, I knew I was going where I wanted to go and would end up where I wanted to be.

It had been nearly a week since my identification of Jesus as the Messiah. We had been working our way farther north each day until our camp was now located at the base of Mount Hermon. The mountain was by far the highest peak in all of Palestine, towering more than nine thousand feet above the Sea of Galilee. The winter snows were now gone from its peak, but the sheer majesty of the massive mountain dominated the world in which we walked. It quickly became evident that Jesus intended to lead us at least part way up the mountain.

We hiked for several hours, picking our way upward through the dry, rocky terrain. As the sun grew warmer, beating down on my back, I found myself increasingly grateful for the early morning departure that now enabled us to climb for several hours in relative comfort. When we finally reached our destination, I was soaked with sweat, puffing, panting, and exhausted. The others seemed to have survived the climb in a little better shape than I did. I comforted myself with the thought that I had been carrying at least thirty or forty pounds more muscle up the side of that mountain than any of them. The view from our ridge made it more than worth the effort, though. James, John, and I plopped down on the ground and drank in the wonder of the world spread out before us. Jesus stood in silence at our side.

The warmth of the sun on my face felt good after the climb. I wasn't going to sleep, of course, but just a little rest in the warmth and the quiet seemed only natural. As I stretched out on my back, I noticed James and John following my lead.

I'm not sure what it was that woke us. It may have been the noise. It may have been the light. But whatever it was, I came out of a deep sleep knowing something was different. The sun was still shining, but the scene before us made our sunlit surroundings seem pale by comparison. Just a few feet away from us Jesus stood talking with two other men. The first and certainly the most dramatic aspect of the scene was Jesus' appearance. I can only describe him by saying that he was clothed in light. It wasn't just that he was glowing. It certainly wasn't as if a brilliant light was being pointed at him. It was more as if he had become light himself. We could still see his clothing, but his entire being was bathed in a radiance unlike anything I had ever seen before. I have seen the metal craftsmen heat iron and bronze until it glows white-hot. It was something like that without the heat or the fear of injury.

For several minutes we sat in silence listening to the conversation taking place before us. The two men were also clothed in light. Jesus addressed them by name as they talked—Moses and Elijah! They were talking about the preparations being made for what Jesus referred to as his “departure from Jerusalem” in the near future.

It was the strangest sensation, sitting there, listening to them talk. Have you ever seen a child attempt to converse with a group of adults, believing in his childish mind that he is communicating on their level, being accepted as an equal in their eyes? As I listened to Jesus speaking with Moses and Elijah, I suddenly felt like that child. For the past three years, I had been talking with Jesus, living with Jesus, offering him suggestions and advice. I knew we were not really equals, but I allowed myself to believe we were not far from it. Had he not chosen me to be with him? Had he not equipped me with the ability to do some of his works? Did he not genuinely delight in my friendship? And yet now, watching Jesus engaged in conversation with these two supernatural personalities, discussing issues I could not even begin to grasp, cloaked in some sort of heavenly brilliance, I suddenly saw my own infinitesimal stature next to the Master.

We listened to Jesus' conversation with his visitors until it ended and Moses and Elijah departed. The silence following their departure was more than I could take. I don't do well with silence. Jesus said nothing. James and John just sat there in silence. It was up to me to fill the void.

I sprang to my feet and babbled, “Master, this is great! If you want, we can make three tabernacles here: one for you, and one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”

Even as I was speaking, a sort of radiant cloud suddenly appeared just above our heads, blocking the sun while at the same time filling our world with light. It dropped over our heads, swallowing us instantly in its heavy, glowing interior. Though we were only a few feet apart, I could no longer see Jesus, James, or John. We each found ourselves in total isolation, and yet I had never felt less isolated in my life, for the cloud itself contained a presence that somehow communicated itself to every sense and sensation of my being. It was at the same time terrifying and thrilling, as if I was somehow being immersed in an endless sea of liquid
life
. I dropped to the ground and buried my face in the dirt.

Then a voice came from the midst of the cloud. Have you ever heard thunder? I mean really heard it—heard it explode just above your head, causing the ground to shake under your feet, obliterating all other sounds and senses? Now can you imagine what it would be like for that thunder to suddenly form itself into words and speak? If so, then you have some sense of what we heard.

The words and their meaning were unmistakable. “This is my Son, my chosen one; listen to him!”

Then, as quickly as it had come, the cloud departed, leaving us in absolute silence. This time, though, I had no desire to speak. Everything that needed to be said had just been said by God himself. For several minutes we continued to lie there, our faces to the ground. When we finally looked up, we saw only Jesus standing next to us, looking as human and safe and wonderful as we'd ever seen him.

It changed me, of course, that morning on the mountain, but not in the way you might think. When it was all over, I was still just “Simon Peter,” the man. In fact, even more so, if you know what I mean. Having entered into the very presence of God himself, and having heard him speak to me in audible words, with a voice that could create or destroy anything, everything at will, I came away profoundly aware of my own finite humanity. Until that day I had spent my life comparing myself to others, using what I chose to see in them to feed my own pride and arrogance. Look at my strength! Look at my skill! Listen to my bellowing voice! I am great among men!

But those few seconds in the presence of God provided me with a mirror in which I caught a fleeting glimpse of my real self. For the first time I understood Isaiah's agonized cry when he too entered into the presence of God. “Woe is me, for I am ruined! Because I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts.” Isaiah came away overwhelmed with his sinfulness. I came away overwhelmed with my arrogance. It wasn't that I saw myself as having no value. Indeed, it was exactly the opposite. Everything that happened that day between myself and my Creator confirmed my incredible value to him. But it was a value absolutely unrelated to anything I had ever done or ever could do. I had value to him simply because I had value to him, and nothing I could ever do or not do would alter that reality. I left the mountain that morning knowing I was a tiny speck of God's infinite creation yet a speck who had incomprehensible value to him.

Those few minutes in the presence of God provided me with another gift as well. Having seen the real thing, I can now so easily recognize the counterfeits. There are so many games used by Satan to cheat and rob the people of God. One of his most effective seems to be inviting God's people into a kind of spirit-world communication that plays on their egos and bolsters their pride. He feeds them messages and offers them experiences that seem to confirm for them an elevated status in the family of God. They come away feeling as though they have become skilled in the ways of the spirit world, qualified to interact with the presence of God at will.

To those who have been so deceived, let me speak the truth. Entrance into the presence of the real God, the living God, is the most humbling of all human experiences. If you find yourself coming away from spirit-world exploration focused on yourself and what you've learned and what you've experienced, seeing yourself as a select member of a privileged few within the family of God, then you have simply been deceived into playing ego games with the devil. For, you see, when we enter into the real thing, with the real God, we do not come away focused on ourselves. We come away overwhelmed with
him,
and with his Son, Jesus Christ. And if we see ourselves at all, we see only our unworthiness and the inexplicable wonder that he loves us as he does.

The three of us bombarded Jesus with questions all the way down the mountainside that day. What did this mean? What did that mean? What did he want us to do with what we had just experienced?

Many of his answers made no sense to us at the time. Until we finally were able to understand his departure, none of the other pieces seemed to fit. One thing we did understand, however. For now he wanted us to keep silent about what we had seen. He told us we were to say nothing to anyone until after he rose from the dead. When we pressed him further about what he meant by “rising from the dead,” he simply assured us that when we saw it, we would know.