The Fisherman (24 page)

For a few minutes I just stood there alone with Jesus on the shore, huffing and puffing and dripping. At first he didn't say anything, and neither did I. I felt like such a fool, but he did nothing to intensify my sense of foolishness. He could so easily have lashed out at me, asking me if I really wanted to return to my fishing, asking if I had some complaint with the way he was handling my life. But, of course, that was not his way. He never condemned. He never asked questions for which I already knew the answers. He never spoke either more or less than needed to be said. And at this moment his presence with me here on this beach, following this night, communicated everything I needed to hear. His eyes twinkled, and a smile crossed his lips. Daddy cared enough to come find me behind the house.

I shivered a little in my early morning wetness, and Jesus nodded toward the warmth of a fire kindled on the shore. The aroma of several sizzling fish cooking on the coals mingled with the wood smoke to fill the air with the most wonderful scent. I crouched by the fire with Jesus sitting across from me, and we waited until the others arrived. James and Andrew tied the net onto the side of the boat, and then everyone came ashore. As soon as the boat was beached, Jesus suggested I grab a few more fish from the net so we could all have breakfast together.

The breakfast the seven of us shared on the beach that day was perhaps as close to perfection as I will ever know on this earth. We talked and laughed about the ridiculous fishing venture of the previous night, with lots of comments about whose idea it had been. Then Andrew got going with a vivid reenactment of my frantic net-flinging marathon, capturing my antics and utter stupidity in a way that got us all howling until I thought I was going to be sick. We ate until we were stuffed, and when the food and conversation finally ran out, we stretched out in the warmth of the midmorning sun.

Of course, it wasn't the food or the warmth or the laughter that made it so intensely, painfully good. It was just being there with him. He stayed with us longer that morning than at any other time between his resurrection and his final departure. He wanted us to know that though many things were now radically different than they were prior to his resurrection, one thing remained the same. His being with us was still his greatest joy and highest priority.

I want so much for you to understand what it was like. He wasn't just stopping by to check up on us. He wasn't policing the troops to make sure we were ready for battle. He wasn't there primarily to communicate some profound new truth. He wasn't laying out battle strategies for conquering the world. He was simply doing the one thing he wanted to do most of all. He was being with us. Every one of us there that morning felt it. His sharing in our silly little jokes and joining in our laughter and conversation, poking at fish still too hot to eat and stretching out next to us in the morning sun, was as important to him as anything else we would ever share together. In a thousand quiet ways, he told us again and again that it wasn't what we were doing that brought him joy; it was just us.

I must have dozed off for a few minutes as I let my soggy clothing bake in the sun, because I remember suddenly opening my eyes and looking up at the Master sitting next to me on the beach. I sat up, and for a few seconds we looked out across the Sea of Galilee. Then he turned to me and spoke.

“Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” As he spoke, he motioned toward my boat and the net still bulging with fish.

Hearing him ask the question flooded me with a tremendous sense of relief. He knew the answer to his question already, but he also knew I needed to say it.

“Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.”

Then he said, “Tend my lambs.”

He stood, and I stood with him. Together we walked along the shore in silence. Then he said a second time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?”

It surprised me a little to hear him ask the question again, but I responded immediately, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.”

And he said, “Shepherd my sheep.”

Only a few seconds passed before he questioned me a third time. “Simon, son of John, do you love me?”

At first his words brought me pain. Why, three times, would he ask me this same question? Could it be he didn't believe my words? I felt an agonized tear tumble down my cheek. Then I remembered that awful night and my three vehement denials of my Lord. He was offering me this opportunity to replace each of those lies with the truth.

“Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you.”

And Jesus said, “Tend my sheep.”

Then the Master continued to speak. “When you were younger, you used to dress yourself, and walk wherever you wished; but when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you, and bring you where you don't wish to go.”

I knew what he was saying. The time would come when my allegiance to him would bring about my own execution. But if you think the prophecy he offered that morning created fear within me, you are wrong. On the contrary, it filled me with hope and with assurance that I would never again deny my Lord, even to the point of death. The great fear of my life was put to rest. Both my calling and my faithfulness in that calling were assured. He knew I understood. He smiled and spoke once again the two words I'd heard him speak to me three years earlier, by this same boat and these same nets. “Follow me!”

I heard the sound of someone approaching from behind and turned to see John coming our way. Because Jesus was offering glimpses into the future, I couldn't resist the urge to ask, “Lord, and what about this man?”

The Master's gentle rebuke brought with it two truths that have served me well ever since. “If I want him to remain until I come, what is that to you? You follow me!”

First of all, Jesus wanted me to know that no man ever has either the right or the ability to understand God's dealings with anyone but himself. No man is ever told another man's story. No man can ever have the faith to live another man's calling. The implications of Jesus' words were obvious. He would lead John in the path that fit him perfectly, just as he would me. But the only path I am qualified to live, and the only one I can relate to with trust and understanding, is my own.

In the years since I heard the Master speak those words, I have seen countless men and women living and dying in circumstances that would have shaken my faith to the core. Yet I have seen them face their callings with boldness and confident assurance in the love and living reality of their Lord. And each time, when I have found myself tempted to question the Lord's dealings with others, I have heard his words once again in my mind: “What is that to you? You follow me!” He provides each of us with the faith we need for just one calling in life—the calling he has given to us alone.

And there was a second treasure for me in the words he spoke, one that now forms the deepest foundation of my life. It came in his repetition of those words, “You follow me.” You see, he wanted me to know that the fundamentals of my discipleship were never going to change. Three years earlier my life with the King began by my response to those same words, “Follow me!” At the time it was an obvious, logical request that I physically walk with him, eat with him, listen to him, learn from him, and be with him on a daily basis. But here is the amazing thing, the thing I never could have anticipated had he not revealed it to me. Even though he now lives in his resurrected glory, even though his physical presence would soon be removed from this world, even though I would no longer be able to see him with my eyes or touch him with my hands, the basics of my life with him were never going to change. Through the gift of his Spirit, I would continue to live in the reality of his constant presence with me. My calling now is identical to the calling he first offered me on that beach so many years ago—“Follow me!” And now, each day I continue to live in his presence and hear his voice and follow his leadership one day, one step at a time.

I will tell you something now that I don't think you will believe unless you have known it yourself. You would, perhaps, think that once the Master was physically removed from this world, it would leave a huge, aching void in my life. The truth is, life has been so much better now that he is gone. Before I experienced this, I could not have believed it either. Before he left, he told us himself, “I tell you the truth, it is to your advantage that I go away; for if I do not go away, the helper shall not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you.” I know now what he meant. When he was still with us in the flesh, he was limited to the physical body in which he dwelt. He could talk with only one person at a time. He could focus on only one individual need at a time. If he was talking with John, or with Andrew, or with James, then he could not be talking with me.

But now, through his Holy Spirit, I live in the living reality of his presence every second of every hour of every day of my life. Do I value the days I spent with him in the flesh? More than life itself. Would I trade what I have now for what I had then? Never! There are no deep secrets to my walk with the King. The walk began with his words, “Follow me!” The walk now continues on exactly the same basis.

I began this account by reminding you of my words to you in my second open letter to the churches: you have received a faith of the same kind as ours. I hope now you can understand why I made that statement. Each true child of God lives in the reality of the presence of Christ in exactly the same way as I do. And each of us shares his same simple calling to “Follow me!” He will not lead you where he has led me, but he will lead you just the same, in the path that fits perfectly with his life within you and his purposes for you.

Though I saw the Master one more time, on the day of his departure, that day on the beach was my final personal audience with the King. It was an audience carefully designed by him to provide me with everything I needed to know most about the road that lay ahead.

Epilogue

I did not expect them to come for me so quickly. Even now I can hear the sound of their boots outside my cell. There is so much more I wanted to tell you about him and about my life in his love since his departure. But it is clear my King knows I have said enough. What you need to understand of the weeks and months following my encounter with the Master on that beach you can easily learn from Dr. Luke's excellent account now circulating among the churches.

It is best this way. I doubt I could find the words to explain it to you. If you already know him, then you too know what it is to live each day, each moment in his presence. If you have not yet met him, then I think you would not believe me anyway.

There have been those within the church who have sought to elevate me to some high and lofty status. I suppose there will always be some who will seek to do so. When I have seen this in the attitudes of those around me, I have known they simply do not understand. I am in no way unique. I am just a man, like any other man. I brought nothing to my walk with the Master that in any way qualified me for his life within me or for the work he has chosen to do through me. He sought me out when I thought I wanted nothing to do with him. He drew me to himself when I fought with all my strength to get away. He called me into his love and then held me close to himself in the almighty grip of that love, held me through all my fear, and all my failures, and all my ignorance, and all my arrogant pride.

If you can hear only one thing through all of these words, I pray it will be this: what my Lord has done for me he eagerly seeks to do for you as well. You see, as I look back over my brief time upon this earth, I see now with absolute clarity that from the very beginning there has really been only one thing he has done, one thing from which everything else has flowed—he loved me. And if you ever again think of me after my release from this body, do not credit to me those things he chose to do through me. That was his doing, his choice, his decisions, all of it. If you credit me with anything, let it be this—that in the end I chose to let him love me and then chose to trust that love. If there is any difference between me and any other man, it is certainly not that he loved me more than any other. Perfect love has no degree. If there is any difference, it is only in this—that in the end I chose to receive the love he offered. I urge you, my friend, to do the same.

The key is now in the lock. The time of my coronation is at hand. This day will not end before I once again see my Master, my Lord, my King, my God, and my Friend face-to-face. And even now, at the end, I have been highly honored. I will depart this world in the same way as did my Lord Jesus Christ. And, as if that were not enough, my final request has also been granted. My cross will not stand upright as did his. Mine will stand upside down so that no one will ever confuse me and my King.

The grace and love of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ be with you always. To him be the glory, both now and to the day of eternity. Amen.

Larry Huntsperger
and his wife, Sandee, live in Soldotna, Alaska, where he writes and pastors at Peninsula Bible Fellowship. He is a graduate of Seattle Pacific University and studied with Francis A. Schaeffer at the L'Abri Fellowship in Switzerland. Huntsperger is the author of the nonfiction book
The Grace Exchange.
Contact him at
[email protected]
.

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