The Fisherman (6 page)

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Authors: Larry Huntsperger

BOOK: The Fisherman
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With sundown and the end of the Sabbath, our community underwent a dramatic transformation. The rumors of Jesus' healing powers had been circulating throughout the region for weeks. But his dramatic public confrontation with the demon-possessed man in the synagogue that morning finally ignited the explosion. The strict restrictions on Sabbath travel kept the crowds contained throughout the afternoon. But the instant the sun dipped below the horizon, every human being in the city suffering from any form of physical need imaginable made for the Master as fast as they could move. Those at the synagogue saw Jesus leave with me that morning, and word of his whereabouts spread quickly.

It was the noise that first alerted us to what was happening outside our home. At first I thought a neighbor was at the door. But when I looked out, what I saw sent a shock through me. Several hundred people were packed around the front of our house, with many more coming behind them. As soon as they saw me at the door, someone called out, “Is he here?”

I didn't dare answer for fear they would storm the house. I just closed the door, walked back inside, and said, “Jesus, what are we going to do?” By “we” I of course meant “you,” and he responded immediately by opening the door and walking out into the middle of that mob. For the next five or six hours, Jesus touched, freed, healed, and released. James, John, Andrew, and I organized, directed, controlled, and reassured those waiting their turn. Finally, about one o' clock in the morning, the last suffering son of Abraham was sent home. We dragged ourselves inside and collapsed into bed. Jesus spent what was left of the night with us. I dozed off hoping for at least eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.

Less than four hours later the sound of voices outside our door jolted me out of a deep sleep. I've never been at my best when I first wake up and definitely not after half a night's sleep. I stumbled to the front door, peeked out, and saw a repeat of the night before. People! Hundreds and hundreds of people. Where were they all coming from? Now I knew what it felt like to be under siege.

I quickly closed the door and stumbled back into the house, looking for Jesus. It took only a few minutes to discover he wasn't there. Now what was I supposed to do? I got Andrew up and explained the situation to him. We both agreed we had to find the Master and find him fast. He couldn't have returned to his own place, or this mob would have already discovered it. We agreed to leave the house, head in separate directions so the crowd wouldn't think we were going to a rendezvous with Jesus, then meet at the boat and begin our search in earnest.

Our escape plan worked fine. When the people saw us leave without Jesus, they paid little attention and lost interest altogether when we split up. Once we regrouped on the beach, I suggested searching several secluded coves just outside of town.

He wasn't hard to find. He had been praying, and I felt embarrassed barging in, but I didn't know what else to do. When he looked up, I said simply, “All the people are looking for you.” Neither my arrival nor my words seemed to offend him. He joined me, and we met Andrew and then James and John on the beach.

After greeting them Jesus told us he wanted to go to the towns nearby so he could preach there too.

He wanted to go immediately. I told the group I would let Ruth know we were heading out of town and then catch up with them in a few minutes. My return home seemed to cause more interest with the crowd than had my departure, especially because I was obviously in a hurry. I gave Ruth a quick update on our plans, told her I had no idea when I would be back, and attempted once again to stroll casually out the door. This time it didn't work. I was hit with a sudden urge to run. I wasn't exactly built for speed, though, so most of the mob had no problem keeping up with me. We must have looked ridiculous—several hundred frantic people thundering through town after a huge, red-faced, puffing, panic-stricken man. When I finally made it back to Jesus, I blundered into his presence with the whole multitude at my heels. Stealth and subtlety have never been among my stronger qualities.

Jesus was not harsh with those who were determined to claim him as Capernaum's private prophet and healer, but he was firm and direct. He assured them he would be back but also made it clear that his message and his work belonged to the entire nation. They were not to follow him but to wait for his return.

His first extended trip through Galilee lasted nearly a month. Jesus went from village to village, town to town, teaching in the synagogues, proclaiming what he called “the good news of the kingdom of God.” He healed every sickness and infirmity among the people he met and cast out numerous demons. News of his works went before him, and it wasn't long before each new village greeted him with a tremendous sense of anticipation. It wasn't unusual for us to be met at the outskirts of a community by a pack of excited children, placed there on watch for our arrival. As soon as we came into view, they turned and ran through the village, calling out, “He's here! He's here!” Their cries brought people from every corner of the community, all wanting to meet the amazing prophet with hands that could heal.

Though I didn't realize it at the time, Jesus used our early travels together to show us by example how we were to present him to the world in the years ahead. From the first moment I met Jesus, I knew he was unlike any other leader I had ever met before. You see, Jesus never attempted to win people to himself. Unlike all the other leaders I'd known, Jesus never attempted to create a following.

His approach to Israel was simple: He stepped into the center of our world. Through his words and his actions he enabled everyone to see exactly who he was and what he was like. Then he allowed us to decide for ourselves what we would do about it.

His use of his healing abilities is a good example. During the time of his public ministry, Jesus healed thousands of people. But not once did he use his healing powers as a hook with which to hold another human being. Never did he say, “If you follow me, I will heal you,” or “Because I have healed you, I now expect you to follow me.” He didn't “buy” people with his power. He didn't manipulate people with his persuasive abilities. He just stepped into their lives, allowed them to see him as he was, and then gave them the freedom to decide what they would do with what they had seen.

Most people were well pleased to take whatever they could get from the Master and then walk away. If they wanted healing, they would take healing. If they wanted entertainment, they would join the crowd, watch the show, and listen to the Master teach. Then, when the party was over, they walked away unchanged. My brother Matthew liked to call those people “the multitudes.” It was a good name for them—an unthinking mass of humanity taking what came without charge, closing their eyes to the reality of what they were seeing and hearing.

Then there were some who hated Jesus from the moment he entered town because he threatened their power and control in the community. They challenged him whenever they could, they raised questions about the source of his power, they attacked and undermined his work whenever they had the chance, and they rejoiced when he walked out of town.

And finally, there were those of us who . . . well, those who entered into his love. There was only one requirement for this—we had to want him more than we wanted anything else. There were thousands and thousands who wanted what he could give. There were not many who wanted him. But something amazing took place in our lives when we reached that point. I can describe it only by saying he gave us himself. He allowed us to see his heart, and in so doing he created between himself and each of us a depth of intimacy unlike anything else we'd ever known before. He ceased to be just the Prophet or the Healer or the Great Teacher and became our friend. He listened to us. He laughed with us. He lived with us. He opened his heart and his mind to us, and what we saw there changed everything forever because what we saw there was ourselves.
We
were in his heart, in his mind. Having seen that, life could never be the same again. Most of those we encountered, however, were never able to see his heart because they were never willing to give him theirs.

During the years since his departure, I have tried hard to duplicate the pattern Jesus modeled for us when he was here. It is not my responsibility to attempt to sell Jesus to the world or rally the masses to follow his teachings. It is my responsibility to present him as simply and accurately as possible and let people decide for themselves what they will do with the Master. The few who submit to him on his terms will know his heart and his love as I have known it. The rest will walk away. Or worse, they will attempt to use him for their own ends.

Already our Christian world is filled with those who are busy building their little empires in the name of Jesus. Brother Paul made a comment in one of the letters he wrote to the Christians in Corinth. He said, “We are not like many, peddling the word of God.” And there
are
many. I can hear them now: “Who wants salvation? Who wants healing? Who wants peace? Step right up! Jesus can give you what you want.” The focus, of course, is always on what
we
want, not on what
he
wants. And the result is an endless river of religious sewage, flowing out of the septic system of our own selfish pride.

That first teaching tour with the Master was a wonderful experience for me, with one significant exception. My anxiety over how I was going to provide for my family increased with every additional day I was away from home. My grand plan for night fishing was being postponed far longer than I had anticipated, and though I didn't dare discuss the subject with Jesus, I was a mess by the time we finally returned home.

We arrived back in Bethsaida in the early afternoon, exactly four weeks from the day we left. In some ways it seemed as if I had been gone a year. So much had happened since that morning when I peeked out on a sea of damaged humanity in front of our house. It was wonderful seeing Ruth again and telling her all about our trip. I was relieved to find out that friends and family who knew I was traveling with Jesus had met her needs during my absence. But it was also good to know I could once again take over that responsibility.

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